behold

The word ‘behold’ connotes action. It means to see or gaze upon. For my kindred etymology geeks, it comes from the Old English word bihaldan, from bi-‘thoroughly’ + haldan ‘to hold.’ Words are cool.

So why did I name the journal ‘beheld’?

As I reflected on the past decade, I realized the root of my struggles, insecurities, and fears, mostly, boil down to a matter of perception. For many years, I subconsciously deemed myself not-good-enough, measuring up only a little, but not to the magnitude I wanted or needed in order to merit a stamp of approval. The “good, but not enough” narrative became my primary belief system around the age of thirteen.

What we perceive, about ourselves and how we fit into the world around us, influences how and what we think, what we interpret, and ultimately, what we believe. Oswald Chambers says, “Seeing is never believing: we interpret what we see in the light of what we believe.” Word, Chambers, word.

I repeatedly heard and experienced people affirming my talents and achievements, my beauty and worth; yet it would not, it felt as if it could not, ever declare victory over the conflicting, condemning messages antagonizing my brain- and I mean antagonizing- at rapid speed. I desperately wanted to believe I was enough, but I felt chained, silenced, unable. I wanted to accept myself, perhaps even like myself, though love was too far a stretch. I wanted to silence the chronic, habitual nagging. I wanted to raise a white flag and call a freakin’ TRUCE.

I often wondered if and when and how the ping-pong match would cease, or at minimum, just lower its volume or hibernate for the winter. One day, it finally dawned on me. This truth stopped me in my tracks completely, and has since, changed everything.

These berating self-perceptions, perpetuated by a ruthless enemy, have caused me to see myself through a distorted, untrue lense of unlovable and to disregard my God-given identity as one chosen and beloved and lovely. I had to change my vision so I could change my beliefs.

(God bless you Brene Brown and the other brilliant counselors and authors and friends that have equipped me to connect these dots)

Over the past few years, I have cultivated new habits to help retrain not only my thoughts, but my sight. This daily redirection of sight is how I began to see myself as God does, abating the deceit of the enemy. Sure he lingers in the peripheral (he’s such a stinker, and might I add, “stinker” is a very generous term). Yet, when God’s truth comes more clearly into focus, the enemy's lies dissolve in the peripheral. Hence, the name of this journal: beheld.

The word ‘behold’ is used over 1,200 times in the original King James version of the Bible. It is used to call attention to something important, to cause readers to stop, pause, and meditate on the thought or idea succeeding the word. “Behold, I am with you always” (Matthew 28:20); “Behold, I am doing a new thing” (Isaiah 43:19); “Behold, I give you power (Luke 10:19); “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29); “Woman, behold your son...and he said to the disciple, behold your mother” (John 19:26-27).

Behold, I am desperate for you to understand- to truly know and believe- how beautiful and fabulous I made you to be.

Every day is a new day. Cue- eye roll- because we have all heard that one a zillion, million times. Still, every morning, every minute, we awake to an invitation- an invitation to gaze upon the ways God has provided for us and to thank Him for it and to believe what He says about us is, in fact, the card that conquers. When you have ceaseless crazy brain like me, however, it can feel almost impossible to gaze upon God (or anything) for longer than two minutes. I’m distracted by to-do lists, social media scrolling, the plants on the porch that need water, that text message I forgot to send, the enemies predictable, yet powerful lies that won’t stop berating me, the gift I need to send, that thing from teachers pay teachers that I really need to print, cut, and laminate, that meal I need to prep, the water I need to drink, the hug I should give my husband, that hangnail I’ve gotta stop picking at and just freakin’ clip, the chocolate chips in the pantry that are yelling “eat me”, the vacuum that’s begging to go for a quick spin around the apartment, and the workout that I should probably do. Crazy. Brain. It is real. My poor husband...I digress.

The truth of the gospel beckons us to exhale, to relax into His gracious, forgiving, always-present hands. It beckons us to put on the glasses of grace; for when we do, we are equipped to see ourselves in the same clarity and focus that our Father does. We are allowed. We are allowed to see ourselves in this light. My identity, your identity, is beloved, chosen, held-together, and secure. We must re-remember and remind ourselves and each other without ceasing. It does not make us proud; it just makes us brave. Needing reminders does not make us weak; it just makes us wise.

Over the past few years, I have seen His glory and witnessed His healing. Without Him, I’d be a slave to my addictions and fears and an eating disorder that almost conquered my life completely. Old habits die hard, but man, they’ve got to die, for death always precedes new life.

I am still learning to part completely with perfection, to allow intimacy, and to believe that I belong. I am learning to be held, as a new mother swaddles her fragile babe, as a friend holds a friend who is grieving, as a husband embraces his fearful, anxious wife. Somewhere along the way, I learned to diminish any desire I might have felt, or dared want, to be held. If I did not have any sort of need, or desire, then- I had convinced myself- I could avoid pain when the need was not met. The irony? I was deeply hurt, lonely, and ashamed. I felt, perhaps even more deeply, all the things I was afraid of feeling all along.

I am still learning to allow God to adjust, to re-direct my vision. I am learning how to be held by and relax into my Creator, who unlike humans, promises to never let us down. If He did not forsake us on the Cross, I am completely convinced He never will. His grace is both sufficient and powerful enough to claim us, call us, and perhaps- what I believe we need most- to hold us. He cradles us.

My body needs holding as surely, and as often, as my gaze needs refining.

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus / Look full in His wonderful face / And the things of earth will grow strangely dim / In the light of His glory and grace.”- Helen Howarth Lemmel