I knew I had denied the healing
it would take to shake off fear.
If the fear stayed, I stayed.
So I let go
and let in
grace and confidence
to find out
there was nothing be to afraid of
and I was not lost
and I had not made the wrong decision.
As often I wanted to hold on, there was something within me that faltered in that grip. The transition happening before me was futile in stalling, I knew it would come. When it did, it came in like a tidal wave and I was still, until I wasn’t.
When I regained my confidence, it took all that was within me to rest in knowing that what I knew was true is still true. The sand doesn’t change because the water laps it. The sand is sand, and when dries back out it becomes what it was once again. It allows its environment to create impact, ultimately cycling through changes until it becomes what it was meant to be. Sand is still the rocks and shells it was before it was sand. It’s just softer now.
I thought I had surrendered, but discovered that I had exchanged brokenness for rules, and it was rules that disappointed me and kept me locked away. There is a difference between barriers and boundaries, and it was not until that moment that I saw the contrast between the two.
Where God had asked me to write boundaries, I cemented barriers. The barriers became rules, and the rules nudged my heart toward fear. There has never been a time where rules have led us to love. Love is encouraged by freedom, and as much ability as we have to hurt, rules will never heal the broken.
I saw in my life that the barriers were torn down, but the foundations of the barriers were still very present. In times I felt afraid, my response was to rebuild the barriers, but the stones were heavier this time and I could no longer rebuild the barriers I once had kept. My mind began to fill the gap with words that had never been my own, words that filled in blanks and empty spaces in my heart that I knew God was on the verge of breaking and healing instead. As I sorted my mind, the words that were not my own collapsed and dissolved in front of me, leaving me with what He had planned for me in the first place.
I knew in that moment that guarding my heart wasn’t sealing my heart, and that in order to guard it with a boundary instead of a barrier, I had to rip out the foundation I had built so long ago.
I began to dig in my heart, tearing out the busted up concrete and exchanging it for lines of chalk in the places the stubborn foundation had been.
The difference in the chalk is that the boundary will move — no hard lines of walls and defenses involved. And because of this, I can pull the line in when I need my space, and expand it when I’m ready to share.
I didn’t know it before, but my heart disguised the barriers to look like healing when all I was teaching myself was to hide. Before I knew it, the Father was enlarging my heart so much that I could not hold the peace inside of me. As my heart enlarged, my boundary expanded.
As my boundary expanded, it became easier for me to run, just as He had said.
This is what it means for me to heal by love.
“I will run in the way of your commandments
when you enlarge my heart”
– Psalm 119