Tears are diamonds
“Autch!” I
quickly withdraw my hands as the hot stove leaves a mark on them. As cold water
tries to cool down the burning, I wonder about how my fingers would look if my
natural response to pain wouldn’t be to withdraw. Luckily my body reacts faster
than my conscious mind does in those situations. I’ve learned my lesson, oven
gloves are not just a nice accessory, but rather really necessary. Pain has
taught me well.
Just as
your body, your heart’s response to pain is withdrawal. When you are hurt by
someone, your first reaction is to withdraw. Pain cries out for protection and
restoration and it won’t stop crying until it’s satisfied. You can put it in a
locked, soundproof room of your heart, but that won’t make Pain stop crying,
you just won’t hear it anymore. It’s cry for protection will make you shut
yourself off. Pain never wants to be repeated, no matter the cost. But what
pain doesn’t make you realize is that when you respond out of hurt, the only
result is more pain. By protecting yourself you miss out on the most important
things you need for restoration.
To some
degree, we all are afraid of pain. Some people already start crying when
someone steps on their toe, while others only say “that’s unfortunate!” when a
nail pierces their two fingers. But even you have such a high pain tolerance as
the man in the last situation (it’s a true story), you will always try to
prevent pain. Pain’s purpose is to become more careful so it can be prevented.
Next time I’ll take lasagna out of the oven, I will first make sure I’m wearing
my oven gloves! The more afraid you are for pain, the more careful you’re
living in order to prevent it.
Pain has a
very clear message and the difficult thing is that the message is true. You
need to be protected and sometimes you need to be careful because the pain is
an indication for real danger. But the message pain gives is not the full
truth, it’s influenced by fear. Especially when pain is locked up in the
soundproof room, it screams louder and louder in order to be heard, until the point
that it’s message is taken into extremes. Unprocessed pain can destroy your
heart once it breaks loose and the fear for more pain can wreck your life. Pain
itself is not wrong, but the way we deal with it is the problem.
Pain is not
bad, we’ve attached way more fear to it than necessary. We have become
afraid to let people come close to us, because of the fear of being hurt
(again). But only when you let people come close enough to hurt you, they are
close enough to love you. I smile when a stranger says I’m beautiful, but after
10 minutes I already forgot about it. But if my best friend or my mentor points
out an aspect of my identity which is admirable, I feel truly loved. The love of the ones who
are closer to you is more valuable than the love of the ones who are at a
distance. That’s why you can only receive love to the extend you’ve allowed
people to come close you. That’s also why you are always hurt the most by the
ones you love the most. They know your weaknesses, most vulnerable parts, insecurities and secrets. Just touching one
of your wounds can be more hurtful than a stab of a knife at a healthy spot.
Every time you share you heart, you’re taking a risk. You’re giving people an
opportunity to hurt your inner core, but you’re also giving them an opportunity
to get to know you better. To know you is to love you, so the more people know
you, the more they love you.
God once
told me: “You are fighting the arms that are meant to hold you.” As I started
thinking about this, I saw what He meant. For years I’ve been trying to be as
independent and self-sufficient as possible, until I found out this year that
those were not virtues but hindrances for growth. I started to learn to express
my needs and let others help me. In that process I felt incredibly vulnerable.
It was scary to see how much closer people could come. Luckily I’m in a very
safe environment, surrounded by people who want the best for me. But I wasn’t
used to having people come so close, so I found myself withdrawing from those
relationships or fighting their attempts to help me. I was so afraid of pain,
that I tried to protect myself while I actually was withholding myself from the
things I needed the most: love, support, understanding and protection.
Even with
God this is true. We are afraid to let Him come too close, because His love
opens up the doors of our heart, especially the locked ones with screaming pain
behind them. But He will always give us the love and the strength to be able to
process the pain. I’ve had some pretty tough weeks this month because of this
very reason, but I can truly say it’s all worth it. Because of some emotional
healing, I now experience deeper levels
of love for God, from God, from people and for people. I could have shut off
and stopped the processes that we were working through, because it was too
painful. But I learned to hold on the hands with holes who were healing the
holes in my heart. I discovered that the most valuable treasures are often
found in dark corners of fear and in deep rivers of tears. You can’t heal the
wounds you don’t know you have and you can’t receive the things you don’t know
you need. Discovering your wounds and needs can be extremely painful, but it’s
the only way to healing and full wholeness.
So take the
risk. Accept Daddy God’s love. Let people come close. Process the pain. Let
them love you. Listen to your pain, but let Love’s message be the only one that
remains. Let love come, even if the measure of love is bigger than the measure
of what you think are worth. Go deep. Share your heart. Feel. Cry. Live.
Because tears caught in the light of the Sun
are always transformed into diamonds.
Thanks darling, for your beautiful, vulnerable, but also very strong words. HUG!
BeantwoordenVerwijderen