Honesty is the Best Policy

After writing that last blog entry, I hesitated a lot before publishing it. Then, I almost took it all back once I did make it public. Thanks to those who responded, either publicly or privately, with such love and understanding... your words have helped more than you know. I feel a mixture of embarrassment, shame, and guilt for the feelings that I've felt, only some of which I've shared here. But, they are real and as much as I hate feeling these very ugly feelings, it has been a huge relief to admit to having them and start to be healed from them. I'm just sorry to give a glimpse for everyone to see such an ugly side of my heart. Even so, I feel like it was incredibly liberating.

Before I left to live in Italy for a year and a half, I went through two months of intense language training. The six years before that were spent learning Spanish, which was my declared focus of study at the time. I was so afraid of forgetting the Spanish I had worked so hard to learn, that every time I learned something new in Italian, I would automatically translate it back into Spanish, hoping that I could somehow hang onto my Spanish language skills and learn this new language at the same time.

Well, it was not easy. In fact, it was terribly difficult... and the more time passed the more overwhelming it became. But, I would not admit that to anyone. I was afraid that I would be looked down on, I was afraid that I would be a big disappointment to those I loved the most, I was afraid of admitting that I wasn't smart enough or strong enough. Everyone else seemed to be doing just fine... what was wrong with me?

Then, one night I found myself laying in my bottom bunkbed, sharing a room with three other girls, and very quietly having a little breakdown. I couldn't sleep. The stress of the situation had gotten to be too heavy. Three weeks of faking it to everyone, three weeks of pretending that I was understanding everything, three weeks of speaking "Span-talian"... saying things like "muy bene." I was making a total fool of myself, all because I was too proud to ask for help, too proud to even admit that I was struggling.

That dark night, with silent tears wetting my cheeks, I had reached my limit. Somehow I found the courage to entrust my fears and my failures with God. I admitted that I was struggling, I acknowledged the overwhelming situation I found myself in. I told Him I was having a hard time and I pleaded for His help. It was so hard to express those feelings... I didn't want to disappoint Him. That was my biggest fear. If I admitted it was hard, then maybe He would regret having confidence in me.

But, that lonely dark night ended up being a turning point. The hardest part - admitting it was hard - was out of the way. From that point on, the language seemed to come easier, partly because I was honest with myself and with others about a burden that had become too heavy. 

As simple as that experience was, it has helped me to remember the important lesson I learned - that being true to the feelings I feel and honest with where I need help, only puts me in a position to receive the help that I need. It is a huge relief to be reassured in those painfully honest moments that I am not a disappointment. And, if I'm not yet a disappointment to God, then maybe I'm still doing okay. 

He has not abandoned me, even in my most ugly and awfully embarrassing moments. I've made sure to let Him know how deeply sorry I am for the feelings I've been having, and I can feel Him helping me through them in a healthy way. I'm being honest with my feelings and in response, He is blessing me with healing. He truly "healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds." (Psalms 147:3)

So, maybe that phrase "honesty is the best policy" even - and, maybe especially - applies to our prayers.