"A Calloused Heart"

When I have something to say that is longer than a Facebook status, I usually just make a blog post. Because of length, yes, but also because I know that people who truly want to read deeper will click away from Facebook for a moment, and those who are just there for pictures of puppies and memes about "Can I get an AMEN?" will skip over it.

Now--

You know those stories where a person has been hopelessly lost and confused, or is wounded over something that happened years ago, and then a particular person comes along, says one sentence to them, and it's like a light is thrown upon the darkness and all is made clear? That happened to me this week. A friend said to me:

"You were a burden only for those who didn't make time for you."

To that friend, thank you. You may never know or understand the profound healing that statement had after years of crippling confusion and sadness. I mean it. You unlocked something that I didn't think I would ever be able to make sense of, and you did it with one sentence. Thank you, my friend. ...

(I cried when you said it.)

Anyway...on to the second part of this.

Today in church we sang a praise song than contained in it's lyrics something akin to "Don't let my heart become a calloused heart." I don't remember all the words, because at that moment it was like a little light flickered on. 

I need to say a few things, here. Without being flowery with my words, I'm going to tell you a list of facts about me.

1. My heart is calloused. It just is. I've made it that way over time, not because of wanting it to be, but because I've been blindsided so many times that it's easier to not let people in.

2. If you lock people out, you lock God out also. I've done a pretty good job of that. I love God. I love Jesus. I love serving, but my favorite areas of service have become more "guarded" now to the point that they don't carry the same joy I always had in them.

3. Every Sunday, and many nights in prayer I hit my heart's knees and beg God to break me. Break me from this. Make my heart able to sing again. I want it so desperately, but when I finish praying, I know nothing has changed. My wall is still up.

4. There have been VERY SPECIAL people along the way who have been able to kick a brick loose from that wall at their eye-level, and reach a hand in long enough to give me the hope I need to know that healing is there. My heart is not hardened so much that it can't be helped....because I have felt it "give" a little, here and there.

5. I know that three years ago was where it began. I built myself a wall at that moment. My first wall. Then, a little more than a year ago, I threw up another one. Six months ago, I threw up a third. (And it only takes three walls to box someone in.)

6. My heart is so tired. I have so much more to do in this life, and I am ready for all of it to begin...but my heart is so tired. I used to give it away freely, because as an INFP, I am literally either "all in", or "all out" when it comes to sharing my heart. That part sucks. (And in case you aren't aware, it's not OK for a man to be this type of person...not in the world's eyes. That's not a sexist observation, it's an observation about sexism.)

7. And finally, this: The other day, I was shooting kids' soccer pictures. It was raining that day, off and on. I was under a tent with my camera catching all the action. I saw the kids on the field slipping and sliding on the wet ground as they enjoyed their first game of the season. Coaches were encouraging them. Parents were cheering them on. The ball was being traded back and forth between wet sets of soccer cleats....

..and then, suddenly there was this one little kid who forgot all about the game for a few seconds and reveled in something that truly mattered to her.

I know what I want.

I want to be that kid.

Can I be that kid, please?

<><

**By the way, if you are the parent of that child, please message me. I want to thank you AND her for that moment of clarity.**