If these bathtub walls could talk… Well. They would probably tell you I am a bit of a crybaby in the bathtub.
Maybe I’m alone in this, but I don’t think there is a better place for a good, sobby cry. Sinking neck deep into sudsy, hot water is emotionally-cleansing to me, and it melts the dam that holds back my emotions during the day. The sooty sadness of this world is no match against lavender-scented steam and my salty tears.
Tonight’s cry felt different, though. Tonight’s cry was the cry born of bone-deep sorrow and weariness. The dam didn’t just melt; it crumbled beneath the weight of my grief, liberating what felt like a lifetime of heartache.
My emotions had run close to the surface all day, so I knew a breakdown was coming. My every action felt forced, my every decision one of momentous weight. I walked through the day as though I was trudging through knee-deep mud, struggling just to put one foot in front of the other. Yet, as I stepped into the steaming water, there wasn’t anything to show for my forced efforts. I was exhausted, but nothing had been checked off the ever-growing list of responsibilities.
Then came the straw that broke the camel’s back… or the straw that broke the dam in this scenario. It seems silly in retrospect. A basic task, one I have done thousands of times. All I needed to do was shampoo my hair, the last proverbial wall separating me from comfy pajamas and blissful sleep.
I might as well have asked my body to run a marathon or crush an iron man competition. Both would have been met with the same response from my body. Quite simply, I did not have the energy needed for this most basic of tasks, and that realization released a tsunami of tears.
I had nothing left in the tank.
Maybe you have been there, too? Maybe you have spent the day chipping away at the ol’ to-do list, just to finish the day – or the week, or the year – deeper in the hole than when you started. Maybe you have fought a battle with everything you’ve had, but in the end, your efforts fell short. Maybe you’ve sat in the bathtub and cried to God to pull you out of that dark place, too.
For those of us who thrive on productivity, days like today are devastating to our sense of worth. To be honest, the connection between productivity and worth has been an albatross around my neck for many years. Somehow, I learned at a young age that if I am productive – if I am busy, busy, busy – then I have value. I am contributing; therefore, I am worthy.
On days like today, when I stare at the bathroom ceiling and cry over my “failure to accomplish,” I feel no value, no worth. And that’s a dangerous place for my mind to be.
You have no reason to be tired! You have achieved nothing today.
Do you even see the list of things that need to be done? Who is going to take care of these things if you don’t push through this?
Dig deeper – and deeper still – didn’t God say He would be your strength?
Pull up your big girl panties and get busy. Seriously, you’re falling behind.
On days like today, these are the voices that I hear. If I am being honest, I have heard these voices most of my life. I have always been an incessant people pleaser. One who said “yes” when I meant “no;” one who violated her own body’s boundaries because more work meant more worth. Less idleness, more value.
But tonight, as I sunk deeper into my watery grave, I didn’t hear the usual litany of criticisms. Instead, by the grace of God, I heard the faintest of broken whispers:
Who told you that?
Who told you that your worth was based on your busyness?
Who told you that your value is tied to your accomplishments?
Who told you that My love for you was based on what you’ve done?
Who told you?
Who told me, indeed? To whom does that loud, obnoxious voice belong? On whose sinister voice have I been building my worth?
Like a bullet from a gun, I shot up out of the water, sloshing water over the side of the bathtub. I didn’t like the answers to those questions.
See, I know that I am a child of the King, and I know that I cannot be defeated. I know this, but believe me, the enemy of my soul knows it, too. He knows that in Jesus, my victory is secure. He knows that death holds no sway over my eternity.
But, he also knows that I can be distracted. Boy, can I ever be distracted! Vacuuming, mopping, laundry? Dishes, bathrooms, laundry? Balancing the checkbook, a clogged sink, a messy garage, a weedy lawn and have I mentioned… laundry? And that’s just on the home front.
Normally, that is how I spend my Saturdays. The sick part of it is, I can crawl into bed on Saturday night completely exhausted, and yet so pleased with my efforts. I have value, and I have worth, all because I have accomplished what I set out to accomplish. I just never realized that Satan, too, is pleased with my efforts. He probably squeals with glee when another day passes during which I have valued my efforts more than I saw my value through the eyes of my Father.
Oof.
Today, though, my efforts were not there. I simply did not have it in me, and since he could not distract me, Satan whipped out his second favorite weapon: discouragement. That weapon hits its target every single time. He definitely hit a bullseye today, and if it weren’t for the broken whisper, I might have wallowed in sadness for longer than I did.
As I donned the long-awaited pajamas and crawled into bed, my thoughts turned to Adam and Eve in the Garden with God. Despite the perfection surrounding them, the serpent still managed to distract Adam and Eve from the beauty of their sanctuary. He masterfully bred discouragement in their hearts for what was being withheld from them – the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Distraction and discouragement took them further than they ever imagined they could go. In a blink, they realized they were naked and ashamed. The broken whisper came to them, too.
Who told you?
Who told you that you were naked?
Who told you that you were shameful?
I grew up hearing the story of Adam and Eve, but I always pictured this scene much differently. In the “Garden of My Childhood Imagination,” the voice of God bellowed like thunder, shattering the peaceful silence. Flocks of birds took flight. Lions tucked their tails and ran. There was anger and punishment. Tension and fear.
But that’s not how I see it now. In this “Garden of My Adult Imagination,” God is not vengeful and full of spite. Flames are not shooting out of his fingertips as he thrusts an accusing finger at Adam and Eve. He is a loving Father whose heart is broken for his creation – not just for Adam and Eve, his heart is broken for all of humanity. His head shakes with sadness as He whispers, “Who told you?”
That’s the voice I heard today, and that was His question for me. It’s His question for you, too:
Who told you that you were unworthy?
Who told you that you were unvalued? Unwelcome? Unloved?
Who told you?
Please, hear the sadness in His voice as He asks you to truthfully consider – who told you? If you’re hearing a voice that bellows criticisms, that’s the voice of our accuser, the master of distraction and discouragement. Satan shouts, he condemns, and he has been playing this game for thousands of years.
The words of God always declare His victory that is ours in Christ. The blood of God covered our sin and made us worthy, welcome, valued and so very loved. The voice of God only speaks of His love for us.
Friends, the time has come to rise up, dry those tears and silence every voice that doesn’t align with truth: You are worthy and you are loved. Not because of what you have accomplished; Jesus finished the work two thousand years ago. You are loved simply because you exist.
On whose voice are you building your life?
“For if you embrace the truth, it will release true freedom into your lives.” John 8:32 TPT
Now the snake was the most cunning of all living beings that YAHWEH-God had made. He deviously asked the woman, “Did God really tell you, ‘You must not eat fruit from any tree of the garden—?’ ” But the woman interrupted, “—We may eat the fruit of any tree in the garden, except the tree in the center of the garden. God told us, ‘Don’t eat its fruit, or even touch it, or you’ll die.’ ” But the snake said to her, “You certainly won’t die. God knows that the moment you eat it, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing both good and evil.” When the woman saw that the tree produced delicious fruit, delightful to look upon, and desirable to give one insight, she took its fruit and ate it. She gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he also ate it. Immediately, their eyes were opened, and they realized they were naked, vulnerable, and ashamed; so they sewed fig leaves together for coverings. Then Adam and his wife heard the sound of YAHWEH-God passing through the garden in the breeze of the day. So, they hid among the trees concealing themselves from the face of YAHWEH-God. Then YAHWEH-God called Adam’s name and asked, “Where are you?” Adam answered, “I heard your powerful presence moving in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.” “Who told you that you were naked?” God said. “Did you eat the fruit of the tree that I commanded you not to eat?” Genesis 3:1-11 TPT
