I’ve learned something this year. How to lean into the pain. This lesson came when I fell apart and met the wounded woman inside me. That woman I had buried. Deep. So deep I forgot she was there. Doing everything I could to make it all okay. For myself. For others. Because Christians love and forgive. Until a spiritual storm amidst a physical breakdown raised that wounded woman from a pit of wrath. And she roared:

Is the church really supposed to be this way? 

Christian brothers and sisters are breaking my heart. 

I’m spiritually pissed. I hate that word “pissed,” but it fits, and I’m exhausted by it all.

Exhausted.

In an ambulance headed to the hospital while the unsaved girl I used to be, and the Christian woman I’d become screamed out of me, I’ve had it with sinful men! They use and abuse their power, blinded by their own pride and passions. And I’ve never felt so broken because the church where I sought refuge failed me.

The church failed me because use and abuse of power happened there. And I took it up with God for letting  it be. Talk about a spiritual shipwreck.

Maybe you have felt shipwrecked too. Perhaps by people. Perhaps by the church. Put a bunch of Christians together and what do you get? Sinners. Forgiven sinners, but still sinners. I’ve discovered the biggest battles are inside.

Inside the church.

Inside of Christians.

It’s all an inside job.

And after last spring I had a choice, to stuff down that wounded woman again, burying her along with the pain, or just accept God’s grace. For myself. For others. For the knotted up woman securing all the ropes. The ties that bind me as a mother. The ties that bind me as a daughter. And the ties that bind me as a believer.

There’s grace for that.

Did you get that?

Let me say it again, louder, there’s grace for that. 

Grace for me. Grace for you. Grace for the broken church.

Grace for faith tested by fire.

Now I limp along hungry for grace. Nursing off God’s word. This truth has pulled me back together, “Neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” Romans 8:39.

I can’t say all the pain inside of me is gone, but I’m leaning in now. If truth is a sword, let me fall upon it. And the truth is, there’s grace for that. The double edged sword of God’s word that cuts away the pain, and my sin, and the sin of those who’ve hurt me. Is followed by quiet grace. So give me grace because I’m leaning in. Not only into the pain, but into Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.