I stood in the back of the room listening as my friend taught about shame--that stubborn and pervasive belief that I am worthless, unwanted, beyond hope or help.
When my friend finished, a lady named Rae* spoke, "I want to say something. I'm going to try not to cry. My childhood was horrible. My parents were extremely abusive and should have been jailed for the things they did to me. But, I am sensing that I am about to be free because of what you just taught. I am understanding for the first time that it was not me; it was not my fault that I was abused. I can tell that God is setting me free from this lie that I have believed all my life."
A holy hush fell upon the room as Rae shared with vulnerability the hope that God was revealing to her. The gentle cleansing of tears flowed from person to person. In moments like these, we perceive Him. Jesus. He has been there all along, but our eyes now behold reality. The scales fall away. We are reminded this material world is not all there is. Jesus is not just a historical figure for us to study. He lives. He moves. He frees us.
A question pierces my own heart. Why do I resist the idea that I am broken and need help? Pride slipped in undetected again. Why would I let my self-sufficiency keep me from further hope, healing, and liberty? I feel warmth grow through my neck and shoulders as the Spirit touches the tightness seemed to live there. Stiffness built through the fear that I had to make things happen or get things done, forgetting His promise, "Without Me, you can do nothing." God's Spirit wasn't just speaking to Rae about her freedom. He was speaking to me.
As we were dismissing, I said to Rae, "Thank you for sharing that. I could hear God speaking." Rae replied, "I felt I needed to say it out loud. I wanted the enemy to hear it."
Amen. The Spirit moves. Eyes are opened. Freedom is granted. The enemy quakes.
*name changed for privacy purposes