STARVEDنموونە

Starved by Shame

Shame. No one wants to talk about it. At least not in a personal way. We can easily talk about shame in a clinical way, detached from our own story. But our own stories and our own shades of shame? We would prefer to graciously decline.

I wish vulnerability—bringing shame to light—wasn’t so critical. But you know who hates light? The enemy. He loves the dark. He loves to keep us in the dark. He hates to see anything brought into the light because he knows that in the light, we’ll find the freedom, the joy, and the healing we so desperately want.

In the dark, there is starvation. But in the light, there is nourishment.

Is there something in your life that you feel ashamed to share, to let the light shine upon? Here’s what I know about sharing the thing that brings you shame: God’s compassion comes before our confession.

Before the Prodigal Son was able to get one word out to his father, he was met with compassion. Before the son who heaped shame on his family name by spending every dollar of his inheritance could tell his dad what he did, he was met with compassion. Before the son had a chance to tell him everything he ran after out there, his dad was running after him with compassionate arms and kisses of reconciliation.

Friend, whether something has been done to you or you have done something to cause shame, God is ready with compassionate arms. He doesn’t stand in judgment and darkness. He runs in broad daylight toward you, His beloved son or daughter.

Today, simply receive His compassion, first.

Let’s close with this breath prayer:

Exhale: God’s compassion . . .

Inhale: . . . is coming for me.