Tell Them I Was Near
My friend Katie asked me to share my testimony with a group of women online. This post is what was shared with them.
Hi! My name is Mackenzie. I'm 24 (and a half) years old. I live in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. I'm an ER Nurse. I'm also a daughter, sister, friend, and aunt. I love double-stuffed Oreos and books and lipstick and running and writing. And Jesus. I hate sloths and balloons (weird, I know). I don't really know what else to say in an introduction other than those things. I hope you feel like you know me a little. Those are the basics and the most important. I realize this isn't a bio for an online dating site, so I'll tell you why I'm writing.
Katie and I were college roommates our Freshman year, and we haven't stopped being best friends since. I'm really proud of Katie for starting this group. I know one of her biggest passions is to help women, whether that be helping them take care of their bodies or take care of their hearts, and I admire her relentless pursuit of that tugging on her heart. Katie asked me if I would share my testimony.
"I need you to share your testimony on video," is actually what the text said a couple of weeks ago after she texted me saying she needed a favor. I agreed to do it, because when the Lord has done something in your life and someone asks you to share it, who are you to say no? But the video part is where my hands get sweaty and chest gets tight. I'm not good in front of a camera, not comfortable with public speaking or standing in front of crowds (or even videoing myself talking, apparently!). But writing…that's my thing. It's one of my favorite things and most intricate ways I can create something, one of the most holy things for me to do with this brain and these hands. Give me a keyboard and 2AM and I'll make it happen. So I asked Katie if I could write it instead, and thankfully she said yes. So here we are.
I feel like I should thank you in advance for reading these words. They might be a little messy or morbid, but I hope they find you right where you're at and leave you feeling less alone and more hopeful in a way. I hope you somehow find Jesus here in whatever ways you're needing him.
I wasn't sure where to start, honestly. When Katie said the word "testimony" I automatically froze. Writer's block, I guess. What do I say? What part of my life do I talk about?
Do I talk about the way I grew up in the Church and how I've always known Jesus? How I was raised in the rhythm of Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights, youth group games, week-long mission trips. I used to never cuss and I brought my Bible to school. I've always known Him, always knew He was laced in the foundation of my life. He was (and is) the breath and bones of me. But should I talk about how I found Him the most outside of the Church walls?
Do I talk about the time I lost someone I loved in a fiery helicopter crash in Afghanistan? A man I thought I would marry someday. And how when we buried him I felt like I was burying part of my forever. How Grief became a close friend of mine the last 4 years. How I made some of the best and worst choices because of that August night. How it made my faith my own when I was at my lowest point, and knew I could either keep choosing Jesus or I could do it all alone.
Do I tell them about how I used to cut myself in high school? Because I didn't know how else to make myself feel something, or not feel something. How I didn't know how to handle emotions, so I made physical pain to focus on. How I promised a close friend I'd stop cutting, so when I got to college, I started drinking. How I did anything possible to forget or not feel (or sometimes feel what I couldn't feel sober). Or do I talk about what I remembered all those nights I spent trying to forget? That I wasn't enough for myself and I knew I needed Jesus. Still. Always.
Do I talk about how I started going to counseling last year because I still wasn't enough for myself and didn't have coping skills that didn't involve self-destructing like I always did. How I wasn't very good at counseling so I quit it and had a quarter-life crisis and took a 3 month job 1200 miles away to get away from it all, only to get 1200 miles away and realize I still wasn't enough for myself. How even in my running He cared for me and orchestrated a safe place to live with safe people who loved Jesus in a safe little town in North Carolina. How I was trying to move away and forget everything I couldn't handle, but Jesus remembered every detail and gently reminded me He was ready to handle it all when I was. So after 3 months I moved back to Oklahoma and started doing the work that healing takes. How the sweet counselor woman hasn't given up on me and unbuilt me slowly, brick by brick, taking out all the shame and guilt and rebuilding me with the truth that Jesus wasn't angry with me for the things I did when I was hurting and that He loved me intimately and personally.
Do I tell them about my job and how I think I was born to be an ER Nurse? How it is one of the most holy platforms for me to love "the least of these," and care for people's broken and sick bodies and move them towards health and healing. How it makes me come alive and makes me lean on Jesus more than myself.
Do I talk about now, how I'm warring with wanting to be a wife and a mom but trying to steward my singleness since I'm not yet. And how no matter how much I am stewarding the best I can there's a part of me that is aching to keep up the pace in life with my friends who are wives and moms. How I'm learning so much about Jesus right now while I'm learning to live with those desires but not be consumed by them.
I was sitting here tonight staring at my keyboard, wondering which part to write about in the most detail. I started praying.
Lord, what part do I tell them?
And without a second going by I felt Him say, Tell them I was near.
So with tears in my eyes I thought about all the parts of my story these 24 years have held, and the thread holding them all was the truth that He was and is near. I could tell you a million little details in a million little ways about what He has done in my life, but I think what I need to tell you the most is that He was there, and He's here.
When I was battered, bruised, and broken with grief, I believe He was too, because I believe He loves me intimately and what hurts my heart hurts His. The moments I felt so full of life that I could burst, where joy was bone-deep, I believe He smiled when I smiled. When I was the loneliest I've ever felt, He was just as near as the times I felt the most rooted in community and least alone. Every time I sit nervously on a counselor's couch, He's near. When I thought shame would swallow me up, His Grace got me first and has kept me since. He's been near when I've been broken hearted and hurting, and near when I've felt the most alive and most whole. The worst and the best and everything in between have been tied together by Him.
And I believe He's near with you, too. Whether you're on the mountain top or in the mess, He's there. It's my testimony, but I think it's yours too just as much as it is mine. Because when you know Jesus (or whether you don't know Him) He's near. Still. Always. And He's good and faithful. Still. Always.
I think maybe that's the one thing I hope I never stop saying with this life. He was near. He's here. Still. Always.
Katie and I were college roommates our Freshman year, and we haven't stopped being best friends since. I'm really proud of Katie for starting this group. I know one of her biggest passions is to help women, whether that be helping them take care of their bodies or take care of their hearts, and I admire her relentless pursuit of that tugging on her heart. Katie asked me if I would share my testimony.
"I need you to share your testimony on video," is actually what the text said a couple of weeks ago after she texted me saying she needed a favor. I agreed to do it, because when the Lord has done something in your life and someone asks you to share it, who are you to say no? But the video part is where my hands get sweaty and chest gets tight. I'm not good in front of a camera, not comfortable with public speaking or standing in front of crowds (or even videoing myself talking, apparently!). But writing…that's my thing. It's one of my favorite things and most intricate ways I can create something, one of the most holy things for me to do with this brain and these hands. Give me a keyboard and 2AM and I'll make it happen. So I asked Katie if I could write it instead, and thankfully she said yes. So here we are.
I feel like I should thank you in advance for reading these words. They might be a little messy or morbid, but I hope they find you right where you're at and leave you feeling less alone and more hopeful in a way. I hope you somehow find Jesus here in whatever ways you're needing him.
I wasn't sure where to start, honestly. When Katie said the word "testimony" I automatically froze. Writer's block, I guess. What do I say? What part of my life do I talk about?
Do I talk about the way I grew up in the Church and how I've always known Jesus? How I was raised in the rhythm of Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights, youth group games, week-long mission trips. I used to never cuss and I brought my Bible to school. I've always known Him, always knew He was laced in the foundation of my life. He was (and is) the breath and bones of me. But should I talk about how I found Him the most outside of the Church walls?
Do I talk about the time I lost someone I loved in a fiery helicopter crash in Afghanistan? A man I thought I would marry someday. And how when we buried him I felt like I was burying part of my forever. How Grief became a close friend of mine the last 4 years. How I made some of the best and worst choices because of that August night. How it made my faith my own when I was at my lowest point, and knew I could either keep choosing Jesus or I could do it all alone.
Do I tell them about how I used to cut myself in high school? Because I didn't know how else to make myself feel something, or not feel something. How I didn't know how to handle emotions, so I made physical pain to focus on. How I promised a close friend I'd stop cutting, so when I got to college, I started drinking. How I did anything possible to forget or not feel (or sometimes feel what I couldn't feel sober). Or do I talk about what I remembered all those nights I spent trying to forget? That I wasn't enough for myself and I knew I needed Jesus. Still. Always.
Do I talk about how I started going to counseling last year because I still wasn't enough for myself and didn't have coping skills that didn't involve self-destructing like I always did. How I wasn't very good at counseling so I quit it and had a quarter-life crisis and took a 3 month job 1200 miles away to get away from it all, only to get 1200 miles away and realize I still wasn't enough for myself. How even in my running He cared for me and orchestrated a safe place to live with safe people who loved Jesus in a safe little town in North Carolina. How I was trying to move away and forget everything I couldn't handle, but Jesus remembered every detail and gently reminded me He was ready to handle it all when I was. So after 3 months I moved back to Oklahoma and started doing the work that healing takes. How the sweet counselor woman hasn't given up on me and unbuilt me slowly, brick by brick, taking out all the shame and guilt and rebuilding me with the truth that Jesus wasn't angry with me for the things I did when I was hurting and that He loved me intimately and personally.
Do I tell them about my job and how I think I was born to be an ER Nurse? How it is one of the most holy platforms for me to love "the least of these," and care for people's broken and sick bodies and move them towards health and healing. How it makes me come alive and makes me lean on Jesus more than myself.
Do I talk about now, how I'm warring with wanting to be a wife and a mom but trying to steward my singleness since I'm not yet. And how no matter how much I am stewarding the best I can there's a part of me that is aching to keep up the pace in life with my friends who are wives and moms. How I'm learning so much about Jesus right now while I'm learning to live with those desires but not be consumed by them.
I was sitting here tonight staring at my keyboard, wondering which part to write about in the most detail. I started praying.
Lord, what part do I tell them?
And without a second going by I felt Him say, Tell them I was near.
So with tears in my eyes I thought about all the parts of my story these 24 years have held, and the thread holding them all was the truth that He was and is near. I could tell you a million little details in a million little ways about what He has done in my life, but I think what I need to tell you the most is that He was there, and He's here.
When I was battered, bruised, and broken with grief, I believe He was too, because I believe He loves me intimately and what hurts my heart hurts His. The moments I felt so full of life that I could burst, where joy was bone-deep, I believe He smiled when I smiled. When I was the loneliest I've ever felt, He was just as near as the times I felt the most rooted in community and least alone. Every time I sit nervously on a counselor's couch, He's near. When I thought shame would swallow me up, His Grace got me first and has kept me since. He's been near when I've been broken hearted and hurting, and near when I've felt the most alive and most whole. The worst and the best and everything in between have been tied together by Him.
And I believe He's near with you, too. Whether you're on the mountain top or in the mess, He's there. It's my testimony, but I think it's yours too just as much as it is mine. Because when you know Jesus (or whether you don't know Him) He's near. Still. Always. And He's good and faithful. Still. Always.
I think maybe that's the one thing I hope I never stop saying with this life. He was near. He's here. Still. Always.
I really enjoyed this. Thanks for sharing!!
ReplyDeleteYou have a gift to write and express what others are feeling. God is using you in a great way through your writing. Although, not many people comment on what they read in your posts, they are still reading. I have a blog and only two or three people have ever commented, but I still think they are reading. Most people just don't like to take the time to comment. Sad, I think; because bloggers need encouragement, too.
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