Keeping Secrets

Psalm 118:24 - "This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."

In one of my church small groups this quarter, we talked about "keeping secrets" from God. I thought this was an absurd concept. How can I keep a secret from God if He knows everything about me--more than I know about myself!?

But then it started to make a little sense to me. I started to see how there are parts of my heart that I would rather not say out loud. That I don't want to share with God in case He sees how happy I am and decides to take it away. Or sees how scared I am of something so makes me face it. I have all these things that are buried like a treasure chest at the bottom of the ocean, filled with glamorous dreams and hopeless fears. Locked tight away for my own safe keeping so that I can protect them. Somewhere in me, I don't believe He will.

As much as I hate to admit it, a part of me believes in 'jinxing' myself. If I say it, then I'll ruin it. It's been a challenge for me to enjoy the enjoyable moments in life because of a paralyzing fear of the unknown future. But, I know that a bigger part of me believes in a God who is good and who is for me and who will defend me and most importantly who loves ME. Yes, this Gospel thing isn't just for everyone else, it's apparently for me, too. And He delights in my joy. He isn't sitting on a cloud somewhere waiting to strike me down. He wants to dance with me. 

I've seen a lot of pain in my life. I had awful friendships early in my school years, making me insecure in many of my relationships for most of my life. I've had friends betray me and abandon me. I've had my heart broken too many times. At the ripe old age of 27, I've seen about 13 friends or acquaintances under the age of 30 die-- ranging from a motorcycle accident on the way home from a bible study to overdosing on drugs. I've experienced the ripping of someone from your life with no going back. During my pregnancy, though much worse things could have happened, I agonized over the thought that my baby wasn't whole. That he was missing an organ that every other baby seemed to have. That this would be his life. It wrecked me. I've seen families ruined. I've seen friends experience outrageous emotional wounds. I've seen powerful people misuse that power.  I've chosen to see the world through pessimistic eyes most of my life.

So it scares me when life is wonderful. When my husband is my best friend and we get to live in the same house together and raise the same amazing baby together. When that amazing baby fills my heart with so much joy I don't know what to do with all the overflow and just want to drench it on everyone I see. When those cries of losing friends or being abandoned by them are answered with new, amazing friendships that make me feel secure and puts fun and wholeness and relationship back into my life. When the house that took a miracle to be ours isn't taken for granted and I remember how blessed I am to have it. When the Christmas Tree is up and the lights are twinkling and the smells of holidays linger. When we prepare to host parties this season as it fills with family and friends, just what this house was made for.

I feel like I'm in a period of fulfillment right now. Like I'm sitting in a moment of answered prayers and joy. And yet, I've been afraid if I claim it, it will all be taken away. So it's best I bury my joy in a cave. And keep it as a secret of my own.

Today I don't feel like taking the time to dig the hole that contains all that I delight in. I want to let it boil over the surface and flood my world. I want people to see it and  know that it's from a good God who is with us on the mountaintops and in the valleys. I want to acknowledge the goodness in my life so that when trouble does come, I will remember that this life is so worth living. And I want to be okay with living in happiness. I don't want to feel guilty or scared of these moments. But I want to embrace them because they are treasures meant for sharing, not burying.

My heart is in a season of inexpressible gratitude.

And this time, I'm choosing to dance with Him. As long as He takes the lead.