the first thing i think of with that word is my experience with the Catholic church—going to reconciliation, confession in a strange booth with a priest behind a screen, telling him i stole barbie clothes from my friend when i was like five years old.
i don’t think that’s real reconciliation. that’s being guilted into admitting something. reconciliation is me, coming before God, being completely aware and open with my brokenness, my sinfulness, all my inadequacies, bringing them before God and giving them to Him. And feeling His love for me. Knowing that I will mess up, over and over, but God is working to free me from the chains of slavery to sin, that I am being grown and led into a more and more beautiful creation for God. To bring Him glory. To live for Him rather than for myself, rather than for others.
Last week I realized God loved me. I don’t know why I hadn’t realized it before—such a central thing! How could I not know? I knew, intellectually…but I hadn’t ever really believed it. I was praying before I fell asleep, wondering about everything that was going on in my life, and all I heard was, ‘My child, I love you.’ I’m lying on my stomach, my head on my pillow, and I can feel the love of God pushing down on me. It was heavy on my back—a physical force. ‘You are so loved, child.’ I started crying. I started accepting it. I started reconciling myself to God, fully admitting and facing my inadequacies. How terrifying, and how beautiful that God made His love so real to me.
-Emily/shiningdefiance
