The invisible exhibitionist

One of my passions, is Christ centered recovery work.

For the past four years, I've facilitated small groups of women who desire to heal, and to recover the broken pieces of their lives. Over the years, I've been continually amazed by the resiliency of the human spirit. It has been my sincere privilege to explore a variety of topics and to share the recovery lives of so many wonderful women.

This year however, I've stepped completely outside that area of passion and service. I miss the work, the people, the excitement of having a new group. I miss the challenges. I miss it all; but I don't regret the decision to temporarily withdraw from service.

Yesterday, a friend asked me why I have decided to leave an area of ministry, in which I am so passionately invested. My response was simple: "Because I no longer fear being invisible."

You see, when I was a child I learned that the best way to survive my family of origin was to become invisible. In my family, visible people were targets of rage, of bitterness, sometimes even targets of violence. If I had any hope of preserving any part of my true self, I had to become invisible...and I did.

Of course, once I reached my teenage years, I no longer needed to remain invisible. I was old enough, and savvy enough to protect myself. I didn't need my invisibility cloak to dodge the brutality of ugly half truths and lies that were always flying within my childhood home. I was able to protect myself.

Instead of invisibility, I experienced a need to be seen. Predictably, I acted out in all the standard teenage ways. Like so many others, this was my way of saying "Hey world, here I am. Take a long look at me. I dare ya!"

By the time I had reached my mid-30's I was already the mother of three. I'd been married for over 15 years and I was absolutely, abjectly miserable. My means of self preservation then was to slip into the invisibility of addiction, and despair.

When I recognized my own pattern of addiction for what it was, I sought help immediatedly and I found recovery in a traditional, secular 12 step program. That was when both my recovery journey, and my spiritual journey began.

One of the things I've realized recently, is that somehow my childhood need to become invisible has been transformed into a deep and pervading belief that I actually am invisible. I exist, but I do not. No one, not even God, sees me... not really. I am nothing. I am invisible.

On some level, all the ways I have been serving within the church and within my community, have really been my adult way of saying to myself, to God and to others, "Hey! Look at me! I am not invisible. I am important. I am here."

Several weeks ago, I was enjoying a coffee date with Christ, which is something I try to do at least once a week. I was rambling on about my many trials, when Christ quietly took my hand and whispered into my hair, "Come to me!".

Strange things like this often happen when I meet with Christ, but this moment seemed so peculiar that it caused me to pause in puzzlement; and then, as if the moment had never even happened, I continued to ramble on.

It wasn't until much later that I truly understood what had happened. That morning when Christ leaned in and beckoned, "Come to me.", it was actually God himself whispering, "Jerri, my beloved child, I see you. I've seen you all along and none of this is necessary. Come to me and allow me to share who I am with you."

What I experienced in that moment, was my own personal invitation to move into deeper relationship with the creator of our universe and I almost missed it.....almost. I wonder how many other invitations I've missed over the years. How many other times has this vulnerable and loving God beckoned, "Come to me."?

Well to make a long story somewhat shorter, I no longer fear being invisible. I have finally touched upon the truth that all along my life's journey, I've been seen, and held, and loved by the One who made me.

It is a daily choosing to believe this, and for now, it requires both enormous discipline and effort for me to explore and to understand this new way of seeing, and believing, and being in the world.

This is why I've stepped back from all of my service work. I need the time, and the space to claim my place and to discover who I am through God's eyes.

I am grateful that God has used me all these years, in spite of my own impure motives and failings; but right now, I am most grateful for the gift which God gives in sharing himself.

How can I ever I thank God for that precious moment when I finally heard Him as He whispered into my hair, into my life, and into my very soul, "Come to me."?

I don't know; but it is both my hope and my prayer that I will live my way into the answer.