I am Yours

As a woman, I've constantly had to ward off feelings of insignificance; a nagging feeling that constantly has me asking the question, "Just who am I?"

I must admit that I've taken pride in certain labels: wife, mother, daughter, career woman, entrepreneur, woman of God... But what happens when the very labels that seem to define you are stripped off you? Where can you hide when the labels used to define you are words that fill you with guilt or shame? Hurtful, hateful words that your friends will whisper behind your back and your enemies shout from the rooftop?

Barren. Divorcee. Prostitute. Widow. Sickly...

Indeed, there's nothing new under the sun, as most of these words were at one time used to describe a woman in the Bible. Women whose mishaps God used to bring Him glory. Think of the barren Hannah, a woman whose heartfelt prayer to God made even Eli the priest mistake her for a drunk! From her womb, came Samuel - the prophet who anointed two of Israel's greatest kings Saul & David, and the last of Israel's judges.

The unnamed Samaritan woman who looked Jesus straight in the eye, and claimed to have no husband. I mean, where do you even start when you've had not just one failed marriage, but five, and the sixth one is no longer 'it'? And yet, even though Jesus knew everything about her, He did not treat her like a pariah but  offered her eternal life! (John 4:14)

Rahab the prostitute (Josh 2), Ruth the widow (Ruth 1-4), the sickly woman who had bled for twelve years with no cure found (Luke 8:43-47)... Read their stories of shame and eventual redemption, and keep this one truth in mind; that the names God calls you are not dependent on circumstances. The names that He calls you are not even dependent on your performance, or lack of it. Look up with confidence and joy knowing that He has labeled  you thus: Daughter, Friend, Beloved, Chosen, Blessed, Saint, His.

When it's not the toddler with the tantrum!

I've been having a tough week: a throat infection, poor sales at my business, not to mention past insecurities that seem to have chosen to resurface at this time. I have taken it all to God in prayer, but to be honest, I've still been feeling antsy about it all. That being the case, I've not been a very pleasant person to be around. I've morphed into this creature with a myopic sense of self, such that the world could just as well be blown into smithereens & all I'd be thinking about is 'poor ol' me'.

It's only yesterday that the Holy Spirit led me to do some serious introspection, particularly after I'd spoken ill of someone. No sooner had I tried painting the person in a negative light,did I really start listening to myself, and what I heard wasn't orchestral. I heard the strains of bitterness that seemed to be taking root in me. There was a broken record of 'if only's' that had made me miss out on the simple joys of relating with others; enjoying friendship and fellowship while accepting that perfection is God and God alone. I heard chords of guilt and shame, about a past that refused to accept that God's grace was more than a soothing balm; it was also a healing balm.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6

I believed that I had been praying my worry away, until God's spirit showed me what my prayers had really been: demands and threats. I, Muhito, demanded that the God of the universe attend to my needs immediately, in a manner that I deemed fit. I read my Bible (more like skimmed and schemed through it), all the while twiddling my thumbs awaiting the opportunity to present my list to God. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with presenting your list of requests to God, but the attitude really matters. You see, my heart wasn't in thanksgiving mode at any one point. Instead of praising while waiting, I was busy pouting & throwing myself a pity party. I even  went as far as mentally listing all the bad things that had happened in my life & trying to arm-twist God into making things easier for me henceforth.The result? peace eluded me and my nights were spent soaking up my pillow with tears. 

Our God is indeed a merciful God, and even after I'd thrown what could only be compared to a ginormous toddler tantrum at a candy aisle,He reached down and picked me off the floor.  Just like a toddler, I resisted. My arms were flailing about in anything but worship. I was screaming inwardly and tears blurred my vision - but Father continued to hold me. And when the tears had dried up and the fight in me had taken flight, I looked up and saw a face that loved me, in spite of everything. That for me, is the definition of grace.