Part 2- Tearing Down the Walls.
I've shared before (this post) that I'm a perfectionist. In addition to that I struggle with feelings of inadequacy. I have a drive to do things perfectly, and yet I know that I can never live up to my own standard of perfection, much less anyone else's. It's part of the dichotomy of me that makes me ineffective. There is also a sense in which this need to control and make things perfect has contributed to the situation that I now find myself in. In essence, I created the circumstance which allowed the actions and choices of others to become that destructive F5 that has spun my life out of my control.
But why?
That's exactly what my Bulldozer(aka:counselor) and I have been discovering. We've been taking things apart, looking at my behaviors, taking stock of my life, tearing down the walls in chunks. Then a few weeks ago it happened. We hit the main support of my crooked house and it all came tumbling down. Neither the house, nor the bulldozer expected this, but I'm sure that the project Foreman knew it all along.
Boom.
So deep. So raw. I couldn't even speak the words to my bulldozer and it took me a full 10 minutes of sobbing to be able to tell my dearest husband what God revealed to me, what was happening inside me. I'm not sure I can even share it here, but I want to, maybe another day.
And now... it's time to start rebuilding!
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Extreme Home Make-over, Karina Edition.
For many years I have known that there are things in my life that aren't right. Things that are hard to show other people. Things that I try to hide, brush aside, and pretend don't exist, because, well, they're just not quite right. Like the walls of a house that are so rotten they're about to fall down, but instead of fixing what's wrong, I just slap a fresh coat of paint on it, hang a pretty picture and call it good.
For the last two years it's been really bad, it's caused some very deep depression. My dear husband has tried to get me to go to counseling, and I have adamantly refused. We can handle this. We're committed. We love God. We'll get through this. Wax the floors. Throw down a rug. Add a lamp in the corner. Better.
Then a few months ago the storm hit. Not just a little thunderstorm, we're talking an F-5 tornado. I'm in counseling. For this I need counseling. No. Doubt. About. It. When I started counseling, I thought we were going to deal with the aftermath of the storm. Patch up some holes. Fix the roof. Good to go.
Not so much.
My counselor is going deep. She's like the bulldozer that God is driving to tear it all down. All the rot. All the decayed. All the crooked. All the bent. It's all coming down. What does that mean? Pain. We are taking a painful look at who I am and why I am the way that I am. It's tough. It's more than uncomfortable. It's all my bad habits. All the ways in which I seek to be filled outside of God. It's my relationships. It's my parenting. It's even my housework. We're not just patching up this mess, we're tearing it down to rebuild it.
But. There's a plan. There's a builder. This old bent house was falling apart, and the inhabitants need it fixed to better suit their needs. Think about it....
God and I live here, inside me.
God is using this storm to tear down the walls, to rebuild a home that will better suit His purpose, for both him and me! The foundation is still established in His Truth, faith in Jesus Christ, love for God and others. But the old habits, thought processes, relationship patterns, parenting, conflict resolution, speech patterns, it's all going. I am being made new in a whole new way. It's painful in ways I never imagined. But I'm so SO looking forward to what God will build in it's place. The new me will be better suited to God's purpose, stronger, able withstand storms better, more pleasant to inhabit, more beautiful.
It's not going to happen in a week. But one day God is going to turn me around and say, "Move the bus!" And when that bus rolls out of the way, I'm going to rejoice in every detail of what He has done from the inside out.
For the last two years it's been really bad, it's caused some very deep depression. My dear husband has tried to get me to go to counseling, and I have adamantly refused. We can handle this. We're committed. We love God. We'll get through this. Wax the floors. Throw down a rug. Add a lamp in the corner. Better.
Then a few months ago the storm hit. Not just a little thunderstorm, we're talking an F-5 tornado. I'm in counseling. For this I need counseling. No. Doubt. About. It. When I started counseling, I thought we were going to deal with the aftermath of the storm. Patch up some holes. Fix the roof. Good to go.
Not so much.
My counselor is going deep. She's like the bulldozer that God is driving to tear it all down. All the rot. All the decayed. All the crooked. All the bent. It's all coming down. What does that mean? Pain. We are taking a painful look at who I am and why I am the way that I am. It's tough. It's more than uncomfortable. It's all my bad habits. All the ways in which I seek to be filled outside of God. It's my relationships. It's my parenting. It's even my housework. We're not just patching up this mess, we're tearing it down to rebuild it.
But. There's a plan. There's a builder. This old bent house was falling apart, and the inhabitants need it fixed to better suit their needs. Think about it....
God and I live here, inside me.
God is using this storm to tear down the walls, to rebuild a home that will better suit His purpose, for both him and me! The foundation is still established in His Truth, faith in Jesus Christ, love for God and others. But the old habits, thought processes, relationship patterns, parenting, conflict resolution, speech patterns, it's all going. I am being made new in a whole new way. It's painful in ways I never imagined. But I'm so SO looking forward to what God will build in it's place. The new me will be better suited to God's purpose, stronger, able withstand storms better, more pleasant to inhabit, more beautiful.
It's not going to happen in a week. But one day God is going to turn me around and say, "Move the bus!" And when that bus rolls out of the way, I'm going to rejoice in every detail of what He has done from the inside out.
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