The Hidden Places of the Soul ©

It's been 2 months since I have written a post. I've ached for words to fill my mind and spill out onto the page, yet none have come. I have to admit I've wondered if the season of writing has moved on in my life. Though I don't know why anyone would want to read these musings of my heart, I love putting them down on the page. It's like walking into my garden and seeing a seed come to life.

The absence of words have been a result of this season I am walking in. Endurance has been a frequent visitor here where I dwell. I live in a broken world. Sin broke God's perfect order. I feel it as broken places are being made known.

As I try to put into words what is being experienced in my life I once again remember when my mother, sister and I cleaned out the attic in my grandmother's house. In order to find the treasures that lay hidden inside, the remains had to be sifted through. As we made our way through the layers of artifacts from years of life, there was much to be discarded. There was much that had no value.

So it has been with our little family. God has been shaking all that could be shakened so that only that which is lasting will remain, (Hebrews 12:). I have felt the shaking of the sieve that contains my life. Though I know the hands have been gentle as they have held me, the sifting has at times been vigorous. It's what has been needful to remove the affects sin has left on me and mine. Sins I have done; sins that have been done against me have left their messes. Lies about who I am have lain hidden in the crevices of my mind.

Hiddenness seems to be a safe place to be, yet it's not. For in the concealed places of the mind, the pain is there even though no one really knows. Hidden away hurts are never gone. It's only as I allow the Spirit of God to bring them into light that they can be exposed for what they are. It was made to happen best in the context of relationship.

It's much easier to hide than to let others know what's real inside of me. Shame blankets the mind convincing me that if anyone knew they'd run. It doesn't help that a few people who I've opened up to have appeared to run. It's hard to let people get close enough to see. It feels as if I'm standing out on a street corner naked while others stand there fully clothed gazing at me. What will they do with what I share? Is it safe to tell? When I share my life with someone and they withhold themselves I feel the stark nakedness.

Stepping out into the light, allowing another to know me, exposes the dark things hidden inside that continue to hold me captive. It exposes the voices in my head. It opens the doorway for love to have it's way. It gives another the opportunity to tell me what is real and true.

That is where David and I have been walking these last few months. We are stepping out of our hidden places into the light. We are exposing the dark places of our soul. We are risking, trusting that in the process we will be found. As a result we are finding a touch unlike any other.

Too many years of wearing our masks, trying to be who we thought we were supposed to be has kept us from the freedom to be who we really are. The guilt and shame of sin had told us a story that was far from true. Hidden away underneath all the rubble lies the beautiful identity bestowed on us. Slowly but surely the messes in our lives are being discarded and treasures are being found.

The Rescuer is coming for us, just as the team went for the miners of Chile. He knows we are hidden away and need to come out. So He drills down deep, one layer at a time, to find us. Some days the road feels arduous. Some days we want to give up. Some days we feel that we will never get out of this dark cave.

But just as the darkest hour of night is right before dawn so it is with the pitch black hours of the soul. At just the right moment a shaft in the mine opens, the Rescuer reaches down and brings me out to the brilliant light of a fresh new day. I am found.

What about you. Are you allowing yourself to come out of hiding to be known?

©copyrighted: 2010; Julie L. Todd