Don't Go in There!

It's how we feel sometimes. And everything in our human nature says, "You wanna stay safe? Then don't go in there!" But we have to. Even if it turns our stomachs or makes our skin crawl. (and it will) Still, we have to. Because "in there" is where the change is. The change that we keep talking about; the change that we are dying for.

What's in there is not as bad as it seems. Oh, it's completely undoing, frightening, awful, and overwhelming, yes. But "in there"... there's a way out.

Insecure people don't typically know they are insecure until they are ready to do something about it. They walk around saying things like, "I'm not insecure - I don't care what anyone thinks about me!" Sometimes they convince us; sometimes they even convince themselves. But the truth is, they care what EVERYONE thinks about them. And once they admit it; "I am insecure!" they find themselves, not yet in the room, but at least aware of the room; glancing into it each time they pass. Wondering if they'll ever have the courage to go in there; hoping, in time, that they will.

So there are many rooms in our hearts...many. But there's that one; the one we keeping walking past, peering into, trying to see what's in it, that we can't seem to find the strength to go into. So we stand in the hall, or in the next room and squint and lean in, trying to see what's in there; trying to see what's in the corners. "Probably not something good," we tell ourselves. "Probably something real messed up." Probably. But also, probably something WE didn't put there. Sure, we may have left it in there, but that's altogether different than being the one to carry it up the stairs, mark up the doorway trying to sqeeze it in, and leaving it there to collect dust and haunt us for years to come.

Thing is, whoever put it there had an extra one in one of their rooms, so they took that the extra one and put it in our room. But they weren't even the one who initially put theirs in their room. Someone else did, and they've just been keeping it. So another generation back, and another, until we lock eyes with the original culprit; the one who put in it in there. The one who shamed our grandfather's grandfather's grandfather's grandfather.

Hmmm...

Like the monster under our bed, he was there from the beginning, sticking something potentially life threatening into a room that we would be too afraid to go into; too afraid to retrieve and save our life.

But we have to go in there. Or else we will always live with the monster under our bed.

So take a deep breath, grab hold of His hand...

and go in there.