Writing

Last night, my son and I were playing on his Magnadoodle.

"Draw a cement truck, momma!" As quickly as my pen finished the final detail, swoosh, my preschooler had erased what I'd created.

"Now draw a tow tuck!" Draw, swoosh, erase. "Now make all the stars." Draw, swoosh, erase. "And a heart for how much you love me." Draw, swoosh, erase. "And now letters..." Draw, swoosh, erase.

As I grew mildly frustrated by how quickly he swooshed away my creations, this hit me: Life is constantly hitting us with words, constantly bombarding us with messages about ourselves and about the world around us. Sometimes those words are written on a Magnadoodle; they present themselves for a fleeting moment and then, swoosh, are wiped away without a second thought. Sometimes those words have a bit longer presence, perhaps like pencil on paper; they aren't wiped away with a simple slide of the hand, but with the handy work of a rubber eraser, they too can be rubbed out. Yet other words feel more permanent, like words chiseled into stone. Try as you might, no amount of rubbing or swiping or pounding or paint will cover up what's carved so deeply.

Sometimes, have messages engraved that deeply is a gift. When those messages speak of how dearly loved we are, how valuable we are, and how much purpose we posses, those chiseled words act as a breastplate protecting from the attacks of shallow lies that threaten our identity. However, when those messages are reversed, the protective breastplate turns into a drowning millstones. When, because of abuse or other traumas, we identify etch into our identity stones lies of insufficiency, disdain, and hatred, we struggle to believe any other words spoken, even those written in the Bible.

I challenge you to take a few moments and see what's etched in the stone of your heart. Are these words uplifting truths, the names that God calls you? Or are they debilitating taunts that pull you down no matter how good life gets? If it's the later, find someone you trust: a friend, church leader, or professional counselor, and share the ugly marks that have been written on your heart. Find someone who will commit to helping you sand and chip and pound away what's sat so long. While I promise that it'll be a lot of work, I also promise that those words, as deeply embedded as they are, don't have to be permanent. God's greater, and through His truth and the loving community that He's placed in your life (even if that community is hard to find), is possible to write a new story, even when it's been etched in stone.