Confidence, a healthy confidence, is a wonderful thing. Well loved children from stable homes usually have it unless someone on the outside has corrupted it with bullying and/or public humiliation. There are precious few who are not afraid to answer questions in a class. The rest think twice before raising their hand. Introverts really struggle with it but so do many extroverts. Why? Because of the risk of embarrassment and humiliation.
What was your most humiliating incident? You probably don’t have to think too hard. The memory of it is always readily there to replay. The enemy makes sure of that. For me, it was a moment in the recording studio. For one project, I had a coveted producer in Christian circles. I was excited when he asked to be involved in one of my later albums. He was exceptionally gifted and the good news is that when you pleased him with a performance, you felt the light of his favor. When he wasn’t happy, you felt like a worthless musician. On one particular day in the studio, I had sung a verse to a song over 50 times. He had asked for a certain interpretation that I just wasn’t feeling. Finally, exasperated, he pushed the intercom button and said for all to hear. “She’s never going to get it. I give up. Let’s go have lunch!” I’m not sure he was ever really happy with the song, or with me. Every time I hear that CD and the song comes up, the memory is vivid.
Confident adults have a firm sense of who they are. They were probably defined well by the people who raised them; their heart was affirmed, their personality accepted, their gifts discussed and defined. But without such a home, in a family where conversation and engagement were absent, identity is one huge void waiting to be shaped by anyone powerful. Humiliation feels like it’s a threat on every corner.
One of the scriptures God used mightily to call me out of hiding was this one from the Psalms.
He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.Psalm 18:19 Shy. Retreating. Slow to speak. Finding safety in mainstream thinking. Afraid of creativity. Condemning self-talk. These were the places from which Jesus called me one day in prayer. I saw Him extend His hand down into the pit to give me a hand as I climbed out. The invitation was clear. “Come out and live with Me in spacious places. No barriers. No fear. All thoughts and ideas are welcome. No humiliation in My kingdom.” Before I could feel safe with people, I had to learn to feel safe with Jesus. Words became plentiful. Creativity was born. How well I remember the day I left the cave of wordlessness.
If you are one who fears embarrassment, start researching scriptures like Psalm 18:19. Live in them and be sure to engage the 2nd birth agent….the Holy Spirit. Ask the Spirit to breathe over you so that His invitation to spacious places can penetrate your heart.
For every daughter in the shadows, let her hear Your call to step into the light. Amen
I am made in God’s image, I have a knowledge of what it’s like to be loved perfectly. That’s the reason it hurts so much when I’m not loved like He loves. God created me for the garden, not for fallen earth. When I cry alone in my room as a little child and no one comes to comfort me, my heart knows that something is terribly wrong. Pain tells me that! My longing for someone’s arms to comfort me is so strong and the problem comes with what I conclude about myself when I continually cry alone. I believe something must be wrong with me, not them. I reason that if I were not flawed, I’d be lovable. I also might conclude that it will always end badly if I choose to be vulnerable. I will also assume that God won’t be available emotionally. either I will feel that I have to hide my pain from Him. Prayer will be uncomfortable. Developing a better prayer life will not be anywhere near the top of my priority list. And why would it if I feel I can’t be honest with God and count on a loving response?
Though the adults in my life as a child were wonderful people, they didn’t really engage children. I rarely remember anyone having a conversation with me. I was lonely and wondered what it would be like to feel valued. Did grownups really ask children why they were crying? Did they want to know what they were thinking and what they dreamt of becoming? This wasn’t the world I knew.
As you read the definition of a spiritual orphan and how that person forages off the land, does that describe your life?
These two change agents are what is necessary for my eyes to be opened to my need for a Savior. If I only read the Word, it is a strange language which seems to have no value. Think about your favorite scripture; the one you’ve cherished for years, the one you’ve typed out, written on a card to a friend, highlighted and dated in your Bible, and perhaps even taped to your bathroom mirror. You could write out that same verse for ten unbelievers and it would mean nothing. They would be puzzled by how life-giving it is to you. That’s because the wind of the Holy Spirit hasn’t opened their eyes.
To be born physically, the union of a man and a woman are necessary. Coming from them, I resemble them. I have their DNA in my bones. I have my grandmother’s nose, my aunt’s musical ability, my father’s gentle spirit, my mother’s gift of compassion, and a combination of their gestures and facial movements. That’s why Jesus said, ‘That which is born of the flesh is flesh.’
This scriptural truth needs to be the banner over my life. No one gets to define my worth except my Creator. Not a parent, not a caregiver, not a teacher, not a pastor, not a child or spouse. Only God’s opinion matters because His Word trumps all others as my Creator. He says I’m cherished and that must be lived out by daily acts of faith.