Let it Hurt

Hey girl! Happy Friday. I just love how concepts tend to show up as a theme each week in my world. I try to capture the themes in my journal, but this week, I want to share a little bit with y’all. 

The concept of being Genuine has come up so many times. I mean over and over again, and it has become quite clear to me that there is a battle between who we believe we are supposed to be and what it means to make room for what is actually genuine to who we are.

The rambunctious Christian contest against this would likely be that we are shedding our old selves to look more like Christ. Yes, friend, I know that. But let’s say the shedding took 60 seconds, and we stopped the clock on second 39 to check in with you to see how you are doing with that. The odds are not too well. Maybe you are struggling with releasing what’s old. Struggling to believe the transformation will end soon and battling with losing what you loved most about the old skin. The transformative process of shedding old skin and letting the old die in preparation for the new can be both exciting and arduous. Somehow, we’ve gotten so caught up in getting it right all the time and presenting perfectly that we easily forget that the shedding can hurt. 

If we are truly honest, by second 39, we check out, totally disconnected from the process of trying to put on the face of perfection and victory, knowing good and well that is not true. But it makes Jesus proud, right? Girl, bye. Jesus wants our heart, not our performance. 

I keep replaying in my head the kindness He showed to the disciples as they walked with him and got it wrong over and over again. I keep thinking about Jacob and his transformation to becoming Isreal, the father of the 12 tribes of Judah, the bloodline Christ descended from. Jacob went through a major identity shift, and can I tell you I’m tired of reading about it? Avoiding it, actually. Not because it’s not intriguing and beneficial but because it's entirely too personal. It pricks on the wounds of the shedding taking place in my own heart, and I just want to pretend for a moment that it’s not happening. No adjustments necessary — but I know that’s not true and that transformation is good. But in this moment, it hurts a little bit. Just enough for checking out to appear more appealing. 

In Genesis 35:10, we once again see God call Jacob Israel, and it says, “ Your name is Jacob, but you will no longer be called Jacob; your name will be Isreal.” Jacob did not change by his own fruition; he changed in response to God’s command. What’s even more interesting is that following God’s command to Isreal, his dad Issac and wife Rachel pass away. Jacob, now Isreal, has a mountaintop moment with God, names the place Bethel, and then loses two of the people he loves most. 

I don’t know about you, but this resembles my story more than I’d like, but God is faithful. Through the pain, we see the command of God on Israel unfold into the beautiful story of his beloved son, Joseph’s life. Pain often gives birth to triumph, but when it hurts, my friend, let it. What we read as brief verses detailing an old story was once a real moment filled with uncertainty, angst, agony, and calling. Our life often looks like Jacobs, called to be transformed but forced to face the pain of the shedding. Yet through it all, God remains faithful to His word. 

Until Next Time…