I am a
turtle. No matter what happens to this
shell (my body), it does NOT effect my spirit unless I allow it too. True, my wounds occurred as a child before I
had that realization. So for many years, I believed that I was irreparably
damaged. As the turtle, I didn’t realize
that I had pulled my vulnerable parts tightly inside my shell and continued to
live wounded. Long after the wounds
stopped, long into adulthood, I still lived wounded. To be within my shell, I was safe. I couldn’t be harmed. I was comfortable and happy there. I had survived my ordeal.
What I didn’t
realize, was that even as an adult, I was only surviving. I still allowed my wounds
to effect my spirit. By choosing to stay
inside my shell (walls or whatever other analogy used to describe protective
measures), I was still choosing to live wounded. As long as I continued in that choice, I’d
never heal or grow. After all, a turtle
tightly tucked in his shell, doesn’t move.
I wasn’t moving, spiritually, emotionally or physically until I decided
to brave the vulnerability of exposing my turtle legs…then my turtle arms and
eventually my turtle head.
With the
confidence of not having any appendages ravaged by a predator, I gained the
confidence to take a step, then two. And
just like the apprehensive turtle, at any sign of danger, I suck right back
into my shell. Having seen the world, I’m
no longer content to stay inside. So, I
venture out of the safety of my shell again and again, still retreating back in
at times but with growing courage and confidence to continue moving. Moving toward life. The life I want to live. A life of love and
trust instead of fear and suspicion. A
life of joy and hope instead of complacency and disappointment. A life of beauty and wonder instead of dark
clouds and pessimism. A life being lived
instead of survived.
I have
become very fond of the turtle as symbolic to my emotional healing. Truly, it is as slow as the turtle and really
does happen by building on one baby step at a time. But this journey all began with the
realization that I wasn’t living, I was still “surviving” and purposefully
choosing to muster the courage to be vulnerable so I could heal and grow and
live. One day this turtle will have the
confidence to cast off that shell, completely free of the damage that was
inflicted upon it. Showing the world my
spirit, my essence, the real me. But today
is not that day. Today, my head is
peeking out to see this beautiful world, wondering if it is indeed safe.
Excellent post!
ReplyDeleteThis is so great! As a mom to 3 adopted kids I can totally relate. As my kids heal it certainly feels like the slowest thing ever but it is happening! Keep writing and letting God use you.
ReplyDeleteMarty@Marty's Musings
Thank you, ladies, for your kind words. I hope it blessed you and encourages through the tough times.
ReplyDelete