You yourselves have seen what I did in Egypt, and how I carried you on eagles' wings and brought you to myself.~Exodus 19:4 (NIV)

Over this past year, I've had the privilege of connecting online with a fellow author and publisher, Ericka Clay. She created an ebook entitled Letters To Our Former Selves. She graciously accepted an essay from me to include in her publication.  You can find the ebook and all her books, poems and essays here. Ericka Clay

My essay:

LETTER TO MY FORMER SELF

Dear Former Self,

There was so much pain thrust upon you. Primarily because you were born into a world that is familiar with turmoil and despair, shame and sorrow.

You survived. I commend your resilience, especially since your mother frequently scolded that you were "too thin skinned and needed to toughen up." You lived with a red-welted glyph across your tender heart.

You didn't know then what you've learned by now. You didn't know that profligate grace would be the conduit to overthrowing guilt and sin. Would stand nonplussed in welcoming your sensitive nature.

You had to experience the prodigal years, too, to learn that all your efforts to fix and perform would only deplete your faith in God, would only drive you further away. Would create a gleam in the enemy's eye, make him clap his hands in glee that you fashioned a beaten-down dusty pathway to the canyon of legalism.

You hadn't bargained on the fact that the Savior followed your trail and waited for you in that rocky basin--waited until you consented to be carried out. Placed you upon His shoulders (that one lost sheep) and took you from that arid, pristine environment. You believed the topography was perfect, but then felt ambivalent because you couldn't keep it tidy, couldn't keep it shiny with all your human solutions and well-rehearsed formulas that could never be proved.

It felt too easy to give consent to be carried--to merely relax and luxuriate in the warmth of the Savior's embrace. To inhale the scent of His goodness, to hear the joy in His voice when he said, "I'm so glad to have you near."

Now I know. Repentance is not about being bullied into reformation. Now I understand that resurrection life is granting permission to be rescued from the hostile gorge, to allow holy forgiveness for all the ways I fall short and miss the mark. I am seen and accepted by a good God who finished all the work so that I don't have to earn salvation. To perform. He doesn't scold like my mother. He runs His finger across that pinkened glyph on my heart and reassures me that all that sensitivity is His gift, because He created me that way. There is even a Kingdom awaiting me. That perfect geopgraphy I long for. Because of Him.

Grace and peace to you my dear self,

Priscilla