• I Don’t Want This to be My Story

    This is post #14 . . . continued from post #13:  White Hair

    I don’t want this to be my story. It’s not supposed to be this way.

    Just like I want to cover up my white hairs with hair dye, I want to cover up my weakness and my difficulties so no one will see them. I don’t want them to be true. Maybe if I cover them, I won’t have to worry about them or announce to the world what I have lived through.

    Right before I started this blog series, I cried out to God and said, “Father! I don’t want this to be my story!” (Read more here about my childhood trauma.)

    I don’t want a story that has so much shame and fear and that makes me feel exposed. I want one that’s pleasant, cheerful, peaceful and sweet to hear. I want to look put-together, healthy, attractive—no “gray hairs” peeking through, poking out as constant reminders of all the things I can’t control.

    That night, I heard a Bible story that gave me some perspective. I had been reading to the kids from 2 Kings—the story about the ax head that miraculously floated to the surface of the water. So I opened my Bible app and continued listening to 2 Kings. The story that came soon after the ax head story was about what happened to a woman when famine hit Samaria.

    As the king of Israel was passing by on the wall, a woman cried to him, “Help me my lord the king . . . this woman said to me, ‘Give up your son so we may eat him today and tomorrow we will eat my son.’ So we cooked my son and ate him. The next day I said to her, ‘Give up your son so we may eat him,’ but she had hidden him.” 2 Kings 6:26-29. 

    I felt like God was telling me, “This woman’s story is bad.” She didn’t want that to be her story either, the one story published about her in the Bible, the best-selling book of all time . . . for thousands of years after her life was over.

    How sad for her! How sad that within 24 hours of her telling the king this story, the people had plenty of food to eat. How tragic! 

    OK, Lord. My story isn’t that bad.

    I hope I can choose to see my incoming gray hair as a symbol that God gave me long life and saved me from unforgiveness, saved me from the grip of death.

    It was God who saved me and brought me through all my trials. He spoke to me even in my most desperate moments and told me to forgive.

    I have lived long enough to see my hair begin to turn white.

    But I still must learn to raise my head high and have good posture as I wear the crown. 

    xo,

    Chelsea

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