Ex. 17:3-7, Psalm 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9, Rom. 5:1-2, 5-8,
John 4:5-4

Who am I?  
I am a beloved daughter of God, one in whom He delights. I am known by Him and loved by Him because of who He is. This love is unmerited on my part as it is a pure gift from my Father. He has never been disappointed in me because He loves me perfectly.  

These things I know on an intellectual level. They have been spoken over me and I read them in Scripture daily. They are Truth, but I don’t always believe them. Instead, I focus on what the world tells me. I swim in the lies that the enemy whispers at me day in and day out. He tells me that I am unloved; that I am not wanted unless I prove myself.  

So, I work. I work tirelessly. I work to do all the right things and say all the right prayers. I work to never disappoint my Father, who the deceiver has convinced me only cares about what I produce. He twists the words of my Father who delights in me as I am. I begin to hide the parts of me that I think my Father won’t like. I hide my imperfections. I even try to hide my humanity because it makes me weak. I do everything in my power to disguise the places that are not perfect.  

This mask of perfection that I put on works very well. It becomes rare that I make a mistake. It becomes even rarer that someone sees my mistakes. I continue to grow in my perfection, building up a large tower around my heart as I go, covering up my true self who is weak and unable to keep up with the demands of my new perfect self. When I make a mistake, it is devastating for me. I can’t let anyone see how very human I am in these moments.  

I am fed by the encouraging and well-meaning words of others. “You are such a gift.” “You do so much for others.” So, I keep building and striving and working to maintain my fortress of perfection and the walls that cover my humanity.  

But then I hear Jesus say, “Rest.” He says, “I see you, and I know you” as He says to the woman at the well. He sees me – the real me – at the very bottom of the tower of perfection that now surrounds me. He says He knows me and that He loves me. I realize it has been exhausting to keep up the work of this tower. It is so hard to be perfect all the time. So, I pause, and I let Him see me as I am. He peers through the cracks of the tower, and I have the courage to lift my human face to Him. I am met with eyes who delight in me, and I experience rest and relief. I allow Him to begin pulling down the stones of my tower, and I wait patiently, knowing that my true self will be seen, and that my former, perfect self is passing away. I drink in the promise of His eyes: that I am known and loved. My identity is as His beloved, and I am whole here.  

Christine and her husband, David, have three children and have been parishioners for 17 years. They can usually be found at a soccer game or hosting friends at their home.