THE WAITING- PART 6

The next few weeks I studied. I prayed. Day after day, I became more and more confident in His word and in my heart. I began to settle into the fact that removing my breast implants, with no plans of putting anything back in to fill that “void,” was going to happen. Luke 15—the story of the prodigal son (or daughter)—was jumping off the page and grabbing ahold of my soul in a new way. I had never heard the invitation to come home like this before. The invitation to come home to The Father was so real, beautiful, and appetizing. I wanted to go home. Home to my original me. Me, the daughter of the King, who used her freedom to destroy her freedom. His daughter who refused to know better. Oh, but because of his great love and mercy for us, we are not consumed. I crossed the line of my fear and stepped totally into His faith.

I was HUNGRY for more of God. I wanted more of His love. More of His truth. More of His presence. Which meant less of me. Less of my flesh and death to my fears.

My implants were crutches He had allowed me to use because I thought I needed them to find peace. The truth is I never really needed them at all. In my mind I could see myself running home to The Father, throwing down these “crutches,” that fear told me I needed.

On an early March morning, I wrote in my journal these words—a declaration of my own independence from the world: Today, I will call the doctor(s) and book my reservation to come home to you.

I want to make one thing very clear. At no time did I ever feel like I had to perform this act of obedience in order to stay in God’s grace and favor. This was never his “have to” for me. He was never shaming me or scolding me. He always seemed to be standing next to me, like a gallant gentleman, dressed the nines, with a gold leaf invitation in his hand. He was inviting me to go somewhere with Him. An open door to The Kingdom was being shown to me that I hadn’t seen before. And crossing that threshold would require my RSVP with a, “Yes. I will go.” He wasn’t telling me He would stop going with me or blessing me if I kept the implants and kept going in the direction I had been going. But I do think I would have been miserable because I knew He was asking me and showing me a new direction—an access into the Kingdom where few are willing to go.

My curious mind often gives Him the best of me. If He shows me something and says I can have it, you bet I’m going to take it.

I knew this invitation was first and foremost about me and Him falling deeper in love. I also knew this had something to do with answering all my prayers for personal sanctification and Christ-like transformation. This was about me, crying out in the night for Him to do whatever it took to pull up the roots of all the lies I had believed. This was not so much about me and the ministry, or my “work” for God, as much as it was about my being His. Saying yes was not His ultimatum for me, but it did mean more of Him in my life. And that is exactly what this curious mind needs to know…more of Him.

As I was becoming more and more aware that I originally “enhanced” my design because of my fears. And because fear is based on lies, it was not only time for the root of the lies to go, but also any false fruit that grew from those roots.

Once I gave God my yes to take the falsies out of me, I didn’t want them in one more day. Each day they felt more and more like foreign objects floating around inside of me. I had to fight off the enemy in a new way. On this side of my yes, the great discourager was trying to make me miserable in my own skin. I had to keep coming back to the voice of my Father who sees no flaw in me and knew my yes was locked in. I was already blameless before I was implant-less.

The enemy of my soul knew he was losing, and like any sore loser he was taking really cheap shots:
• “Everyone sees how fake your breasts are now.”
• “You look so fake.”
• “You are such a hypocrite.”

The enemy enjoyed kicking up a lot of crap in the waiting time. Accusations were getting louder. It was difficult being in my own skin. But God, in the waiting, continued to sing his deliverance song over me.

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