Mushy, Gushy, Ugh.

Feelings.

I have them... I think.

Okay, I really do.

But I don't really experience them all that often.

Because there's a difference in having feelings and experiencing them, at least in my book.

And really, I don't like this about me.

---------------------------------------------------

I can pinpoint the moment I finally shut down, almost permanently.

I was in seventh grade; it was a night in late fall. I had finally had enough. I broke down and cried the most heavy, heart-wrenching tears I had ever cried in my young life.

And then I shut down.

I didn't know it right then, but that would be last time I cried for nearly four years.

It would also be the last time I truly experienced my emotions in at least four years.

I shut down because back then, no one cared. I was put under more stress than many encounter in their entire life. And frankly, I was tired of feeling it. Because it hurt too badly, and all I knew was that hurt, that lonely worthlessness.

That night, I made a semi-conscious choice: I would no longer allow myself to need ANYone.

They couldn't be trusted, and I was just too much weight to carry.

I also decided that I would no longer feel.

(Though, I think this was more a defense mechanism to get through life.) 

I coasted on those decisions for the next four years...

Until I met Jesus.

-----------------------------------------------------

Little did I know it, but Jesus had been pursuing me for years.

I can only imagine how difficult I was to pursue. 

My heart was hard, totally convinced of my worthlessness and my need for NO ONE, it took me running myself into the dirt before I would even glance at Him.

Thankfully, He wasn't easily deterred.

Within weeks of allowing Jesus to enter the small opening I had given Him, He began the process of slowly peering into my darkest corners and sweeping out the dust.

That seemed painless enough; after all, brooms generally don't hurt too badly.

But once the dust was gone and Jesus' light started to illuminate the darkest corners of my chambers, revealing years of gunk built up on every surface of my innermost parts, He gently let me know it was time for cleaning. Deep cleaning.

When I agreed to let Him start the process, I knew it could prove to be pretty painful, and I knew that I could have to do some things I wasn't entirely comfortable with.

But His love made it worth it.

So I said yes.

-------------------------------------------------------

Well, since the night Jesus finally won my heart, I've only truly cried maybe a handful of times.

I've only really experienced my feelings approx. 30 times/situations (and that's being extra generous).

Sure, sometimes I felt things. But understanding that I felt them, processing that I felt them, knowing it was okay to feel them. Yeah, not so often.

It took two years before I wasn't totally numb anymore.

And it's taken almost another two for me to be soft enough to begin to experience the pain of others, again and not just recognize it.

Actually, I've felt others' feelings more than I've felt my own.

That night I decided not to feel anymore, I programmed my brain to tell my heart it thought differently than it did, and ever since, my brain and heart still operate by that philosophy.

But now it's time for that to change.

And I don't know if I can do it.

But I'm going to trust that I can, with my Jesus by my side.

This means allowing people in.

This means not freaking out too much when I start to experience all that encompasses what I'm feeling.

Because the feelings God gives are a gift; feeling what He feels for His people is a gift.

And in order for me to be able to truly treasure and know the strategies for pursuing His people, I must spend time in the weeping room, I must know their needs, I must stop acquainting myself with where they are and fully step into where they are. 

--------------------------------------------------------

For anyone who stuck it out this long: I applaud you. And I thank you for joining me for a bit of the beginning of this journey.

This long, slow, crazy journey.

It may hurt. But I know it's worth it.

It's worth it to love. It's worth it to feel. It's worth it to be more like Jesus.

Here we go.