My Wrestle with Shame

I wrote the following piece over ten years ago when I was wrestling with intense feelings of shame: shame about my body, about being a woman in a man’s world and about my sin.

We can express our deepest longings to God, you know? He is strong enough to handle our overwhelming emotions and our questions. He even offers to sit in them with us (if we let him).  What is it in you that cries out for answers?

Shame

She feels shame: an anchor tied to her ankle at the bottom of the ocean, connected to the weight of her body, her burden to bear.

She cries. The air bubbles pulse to the surface in mute agony, screaming to be free. The world is silent around the ocean and the woman trapped inside.

Her tears have filled that water mass one drop at a time. Her thighs carved the trenches. Her breasts volcanoes.

Her arms reach above the waters as trees
climbing to the sky, reaching for someone who can save her.

Her belly is a black hole light years away, swirling into nothingness and becoming nothing and everything.

Her hair the green grass that withers with the heat-dying and living, dying and living.

“We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time (Romans 8:22).”

Her body feels a tomb, not a temple, but it is a temple, not a tomb. She rots while
others look away, lonely in her isolation.

Then creation cries out, the volcano erupts and the trenches ignite. The trees reach higher, longer, into the sky and touch heaven.

She gives birth to a longing: a longing to be seen, a longing to be free, the guttural cry of her spirit- To return to the garden, naked before shame.

2 thoughts on “My Wrestle with Shame

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