Guard your Heart

That’s the scripture that God gave me at the beginning of this season.
This healing and unlearning process has brought me to my knees in more ways than I can count. Even as I write this, I must guard my heart from feeling the frailty of my own strength.

Spiritual growth is hard.

It’s hard not to hold tightly to unforgiveness when you’re sure of your innocence. It’s hard to grow in understanding of God and have to stand by and watch the ones you love stay stagnant. It’s hard to have the answer to all life’s problems and watch those whom God has entrusted to you reject it. It’s hard to experience the freedom in Christ and watch those around you remain in bondage. How can I rejoice in my freedom and, at the same time, not grieve someone else’s captivity?

Today was a huge day for me in terms of growth.

I felt all these things and did not try to suppress them, deny them, or flee from them. I didn’t plead for God to remove them. I just sat with them before God and thanked Him for His strength. I thanked Him for allowing me to see my past for the bondage it was and for the new heart He gave me that now desires that same freedom for others more than I wanted it for myself.

Today was the first time I understood what He was telling me about guarding my heart.

I didn’t realize that I was still trying to protect myself from others—being withdrawn or “selective” in my friendships because it’s easy to love those who love me, those who understand me. Being around those who don’t would actually require me to practice what I believe. I wasn’t guarding my heart; I was running.

I’ve been running away my whole life because I don’t want to be hurt anymore. I don’t want to be misunderstood. I don’t want to be deceived by people. Because all of those things result in me feeling weak. And I don’t want to be weak anymore.

I was listening to a song my sister in Christ, Erica, sent me a while ago, “Something Has to Break” by Red Rock Worship, and as I sat there in His presence, I told Him that I didn’t want to guard my heart from people. I wanted to be able to love them like He does. I don’t want to be scared of them. And I felt Him say that I wasn’t guarding my heart from people, but rather from the actions that come from them—the same actions I have committed against others, too. The same actions that nailed Him to that cross. He didn’t run from us, though. He loved us despite it.

It was like He was telling me that He never asked me to preserve what He did in me; that was His job. He was asking me not to run from people to avoid being hurt, but to guard my heart from the emotions those hurts bring. Those hurts cloud my judgment and hold captive the fruits of the Spirit. The hurt that disqualifies me from sharing about His freedom when acted upon.

Yes, people hurt people. I know because I have done it. But God’s not asking us to protect ourselves; that’s His job. Our job is to share that there is freedom in His name. It’s possible to love the way that God loves, but it’s going to require you to lay down your life—or in my case, past hurts—and focus on the bigger picture, which is salvation and freedom. Not mine, but theirs.