You don’t know why it hurts, but it does.
Like Eustace Scrubb from Narnia, when he becomes a dragon and must shed his skin. Must have the claws of Greater dug into him to remove the layer.
And it’s uncomfortable.
Maybe it’s not a whole layer of skin you have to lose. Maybe it’s just been the spirit of striving, spinning your heart, creating the illusion of distance between yourself and the King.
We can’t be in control and experience the power of the King.
This concept, of being totally seen, this reality of being totally, completely known, knowing it’s infinitely constant…what is this love He has for me?
Coming out of darkness and into light. The harshness of light on blinking, weak eyes, and yet– we were made for this.
It’s time to throw off the strangeness of intimacy– the strangeness of being held by the Father who delights in beholding us.
Sometimes, we avoid prayer and worship because it’s just uncomfortable to be seen. Sometimes, we reject peace, because it doesn’t make sense.
But He doesn’t care.
He’s constantly pouring into our world, pouring into all the cracks of our lives. His love doesn’t just hope that maybe, someday, we’ll stumble across His Presence by chance. No. His love is the kind that is singing all around us– under us, over us, behind us, before us. He’s pressing in, He’s pursuing with all that He is.
The strangeness of intimacy. This discomfort of encountering a love that crossed the whole universe, invaded time and space, before we could even do anything about it. Unearned, unjustifiable, and completely scandalous.
Our hearts are so used to being lost in the crowd. We’re used to the stiff-upper-lip routine, the whole “I don’t need anyone” attitude coupled with the “just good enough” standard. But the One who formed you says that’s not enough. I have more for you.
We’re made for this. We’re made to be seen.
Our brains don’t have to search for a place to rest anymore, forever spinning to make sense of what’s going on around us.
We can just exhale. We don’t need to be afraid of being without, because withholding is not in His nature.
We can be still, be seen, and trust that He’ll rush in. We don’t need to run from the silence, to fear the stillness. The responsibility of filling my soul is not on us. We don’t need to fear a silent mind and heart because He shows up every time.
And maybe– apprehension comes not because I believe that He won’t move.
Maybe it’s because I know that He will, and I’ve seen Him prove His reputation again and again.
Maybe it’s that He just keeps getting bigger than I thought He was.
May it’s that He’s filling my heart more than I realized He could.
And with that kind of love– with this kind of God– what has He created my life to be?
It’s not an option anymore for His love to be stagnant or passive. And I can’t turn back, can’t live my life without.
And even in the moments when it hurts to be seen, when it hurts to be led wherever it is that we’re going– He’s here.
It’s absolutely, completely, totally strange. But even stranger, it’s what we’re made for.
We’re made for intimacy with the King of it all.
It’s time to receive.