In The Middle Of The MessНамуна

Friends of mine have tried to silence me the way the people of Jesus’ day tried to silence Bartimaeus. Well-meaning folks have cautioned me: “Don’t ever tell people that you were in a mental hospital. It’ll ruin your ministry.” But I knew the truth and grew braver about proclaiming it over the years. “I’m not trying to save my ministry,” I’d say. “I’m trying to save my life.”

When people have told me that there’s no reason to be angry because joy comes in the morning. I’ve told them that it’s still the night, that I still need to sit in my anger and to ask Christ to visit me there and heal me from it. This is what it means for me to live a truthful, authentic life. Through the years I’ve found that God always meets me in my authenticity. Every time. Without fail.

How do you live an authentic life with God? It always starts with the truth. Telling the truth to Christ saves us, right there in the middle of our mess. It exposes who we really are and allows our authentic selves—our darkest secrets, shames, and shadows—to be redeemed. Tell Him the truth. Pour out your pain like Job. Call out to Him like Bartimaeus. Tell Him the whole truth as best you know it, regardless of what your friends or the crowd might say. That’s what I’m learning to do, and it’s changing my life. This crying out is bringing me healing and strength amid my brokenness. It’s bringing me into the realization of the truth—that Christ longs to love every part of me, even my ragged, raw, and emotional parts.

If you still have one breath and there’s not a white chalk mark around your body, it’s not too late to begin living and loving differently, authentically. Bartimaeus’s name meant “the blind one.” Meeting Jesus changed his very identity. It will change how we see ourselves too.

As I walk in honest confession, I find that I’m no longer the keep-it-together or stuff-the-emotions girl. Instead, I am a well-loved daughter, even when my emotions aren’t the picture of Christian perfection. And that’s who you are too—well loved. Don’t hide your pain. God welcomes you as you are. Cry out. The depth of your honesty invites the glory of God’s presence.