What voice am I believing? What voices am I sadly living as my own? Another’s opinion, another’s comments are not just heard but hit deep, and hit hard. It’s a pain so deep, so cruel.
In need of love and in need of acceptance, I sadly look at my own thoughts, at the passions of my heart, take a heavy breath, and once again push them aside. Here I am in the perverse act that my inner self has opted to. I willingly sacrifice myself in order to gain acceptance. To receive approval, to feel an ounce of that twisted thing I’ve believed to be love.
But what gain is there if I receive so-called love but I’m no longer me? What pleasure is there in having one’s approval if I can no longer receive it? I’ve given up myself, my desires and wishes, hopes and needs, and now here I stand, stripped of all that might be called by my name. My name. Such a deep pain stabs my heart to see my name. How little I’ve made myself become.
But there’s a greater force, a greater and mightier Voice that steadily calls out to my own. A constant breath speaks Truth over my heart.
Lovely. Married. Chosen. Redeemed. My Delight.
This is who you are. I call you by a new name. You are my glorious crown. I’m calling into existence what has been buried beneath pain and defenses. And I’m not letting up until you go forth as a flaming torch. You are worthy. You are chosen. You are My Delight.
This is who I’m calling you to be, for this is who you really are.