I want to get dirty for Jesus.

I want to throw everything away, couch surf, walk for miles exploring the world, and love every individual I meet along the way. It doesn’t matter if I’m weak, my back is broken, I don’t have the right clothes or shoes; I’ll walk through the trenches for Him.

Although I think we tend to forget it, Jesus said, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” [Matthew 10:34] So, I take that as if He’s trying to say – not everyone is going to understand and see what you do, so you’ll never make everyone happy… and well, He experienced that firsthand as He was sentenced to death for no good reason.

Adapting and molding myself to fit every corner of every person’s wants… I’ve been this shell of a person for so long, I hardly know who I am. It feels as if I’ve been in mental prison for most of my life. I’d lived in fear of the absolute worse because if I didn’t expect the worst I’d get hurt or I’d fail or I’d fall. Regardless, I didn’t always follow my intuition. Hindsight bias or not, I had given everyone the benefit of a doubt.

In retrospect, I realize it was more like self-sabotage than pure naivete. I saw the red flags. I wanted to be their savior. I thought I could save them. Instead, I gave everything I had enabling them to continue their journey’s through life in their own selfish mistakes.

There’s this all too familiar feeling that nags at me on a constant basis… this hateful, angry, confused, and scared little girl starts squirming and crying inside of me. Sometimes I can even feel her tiny little fists banging on the walls I’ve built, begging to be free. I stand on the other side of the wall, guarding it, but hardly caring anymore who gets out or in.

Numb. I feel numb.

The amount of excuses I have to hate the human population is overwhelming… So, how else do I cope? I know that it’s not their fault. When Jesus said, “forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do…” as His body was nailed up there bloody, numb, cold, and dying… I feel that. I get it. I know that feeling of just… bypassing all the crap and the pain and loving the true depths of a person even though they’ve done their best to destroy me. I know that feeling.

I’ve been beaten and abused and betrayed. But even in my own pain, it could never compare to His. Not just that gruesome death and a new level of betrayal… but the sheer concept of loving you and you won’t even look in His direction. He knows what it’s like to be unloved. He’s who I relate to.

So, when I read His story and I took in the emotions and realties of what was said and done… I fell in love. I learned more about life and how to live it by just giving Him a chance to show me. If He’s willing to suffer for me, I’m willing to walk through the trenches with nothing in my pockets for Him.