By Karen Ramsey
(Used with the author’s permission.)
“On the day you were born your umbilical cord was not cut, you weren't bathed and cleaned up, you weren't rubbed with salt, you weren't wrapped in a baby blanket. No one cared a fig for you. No one did one thing to care for you tenderly in these ways. You were thrown out into a vacant lot and left there, dirty and unwashed—a newborn nobody wanted. And then I came by. I saw you all miserable and bloody. Yes, I said to you, lying there helpless and filthy, "Live! Grow up like a plant in the field!" And you did. You grew up. You grew tall and matured as a woman, full-breasted, with flowing hair. But you were naked and vulnerable, fragile and exposed. I came by again and saw you, saw that you were ready for love and a lover. I took care of you, dressed you and protected you. I promised you my love and entered the covenant of marriage with you. I, God, the Master, gave my word. You became mine. I gave you a good bath, washing off all that old blood, and anointed you with aromatic oils. . .” (Ezekiel 16:4-9, MSG).
Recently I read two articles by Dr. David Ryser. The first was entitled “Lover or Prostitute?” The second was part 2 of the first article. In the first part, he discusses the journey from being a prostitute (one who has to be paid for his/her services) to being a lover of God (serving and loving God without conditions). In the second article, Dr. Ryser talks about how, after he’d wrestled through that conflict, God turned things around by stating, “I’m not a prostitute, either. (If you haven’t read either or both articles, they are the first two posts on this blog) I mention those articles because they were the precursor to how God next turned me upside down. I was chewing on the ideas Dr. Ryser presented, and trying to process the revelations they brought.
As I was praying and setting myself for real heart-searching and repentance, God stopped me short by saying, in a nutshell, “I’m not a rapist, either.”
I didn’t even have a response for that for several long moments. I was almost afraid to have one, because I knew Daddy was getting ready to deal with some deeply-rooted things.
Finally, I took a deep breath and set myself to open up to whatever He wanted to do. But when I looked up at Him, what I saw stopped me short once again. He was looking back at me with tears running down His face.
Suddenly I was seeing myself through His eyes, and we were watching vignettes from the past scroll by. I watched His heart break as He watched me try to relate to Him the same way I had learned to relate to others in my life.
A vicious incident from childhood involving a neighbor set my life on a destructive path that lasted long into my adulthood. Over and over again, from my teens into my 30s, I entered into relationships with people who were selfish at best and dangerous at worst.
As we watched these scenes pass by, God began opening my eyes to what was going on inside of me during that time: I was terrified that my control over my body would be stolen again, yet I didn’t know how to choose people that wouldn’t do so. I wasn’t even sure there were such people, although I longed to find even just one.
The only solution I could find was to give myself away so I couldn’t be stolen from again. Submission became the way I maintained control, not gave it up: “I’m going to give in to your desires, regardless of my own feelings, so that the decision remains mine.”
Unfortunately, it didn’t work out the way I wanted it to. All I really wanted was love and relationship; but what I ended up enduring was so distasteful that I turned to whatever methods of numbing my mind and body I could just to get through it. By the time I was in my 30s, I was entangled with people who weren’t satisfied being given what they wanted to take. Others only found pleasure when they were inflicting pain. The claws of perversity, violence, and control that had pierced me as a child were only being driven deeper and gaining more power. After more than 20 years I’d ended up back in the place I’d worked so hard to escape, but with those added decades of time spent cementing these relational patterns in place.
It was after a couple of very bad years that I finally turned to God. He swept right into my life and instantly began healing me. I found a church that, among other things, moved powerfully in spiritual warfare. I was immediately drawn to that aspect of God.
I spent two years running hard after the Warrior. I remember times He tried to come to me in other ways, as Father or Beloved, and my gut reaction was to slam the door in His face. Because I’d lived with warfare, violence, and striving most of my life, I was comfortable with it. Anything else terrified me.
Finally, He had to get direct with me. A while back He said, “If you don’t let Me love you, you aren’t going to make it.”
Love – now that’s an interesting word. That’s all I was looking for from the beginning, but my experiences taught me that the way to please someone was to let them use me any way they wanted. Pain was to be expected, and possibly enjoyed. I’m realizing now that they were lessons that gave me a fearlessness I felt was useful in battle, and a pride in how I would throw myself at His feet willing for Him to do or ask anything. Yet now He has said He wants something different – something more. And I have to ask myself – do I even know what love is?
I am on a journey, of which this encounter has become a part. God is trying to show me that opening myself up to let Him do whatever He wants to do to me is not the same thing as opening myself up to His goodness. He doesn’t want to rape me. And when I tell Him it’s ok for Him to use me and throw me away, I’m not submitting – I’m really slapping Him in the face. Because what He’s longing for is a relationship with me.
I’d be lying if I said I’ve totally gotten a handle on this. It’s opened up some painful things, but I know it’s bringing healing to those things, as well. In the past, I gave myself away because I didn’t dare trust; now He wants me to learn trust first. It’s a dance I’ve never known, and honestly hoped at times to live my Christian life without. But I’m realizing that is because I had no idea what it was He wanted to give me. The Lover is wooing me now, and with such gentleness that I think I may actually be able to reach out and grasp the hand He’s extending towards me . . .
Responses to this article are welcomed. You may contact the author at ramseyk.kr@gmail.com
