Humility over Hurt

Hi. I’m Jodie and I’ve been hurt.

Honestly, I think there is something relieving about saying that out loud. It’s a recognition of, “Hey, this is real. This needs healing.”

But before I had come to a place of saying it out loud, the hurt had become a “high place” for me. The prophet Jeremiah gives many accounts of high places throughout 1 & 2 Kings. High places were places of worship on elevated pieces of ground. They were originally dedicated to idol worship. Nestled into the hills of 2 Kings 15:3-4, Jeremiah recounts such a place:

And he (Azariah) did what was right in the sight of the LORD, according to all that his father Amaziah had done, except that the high places were not removed; the people still sacrificed and burned incense on the high places.

There were some days that I wouldn’t think about the hurt at all, but there were other days it’s all I would think about. Replaying moments over-and-over in my head, trying to figure out what happened. You could say I was only adding stones to the monument of hurt, because I never really removed the high place.

There were times when I would see something on social media that reminded me of the hurt; those social media posts would sting me, but I’d rub it away with the daily practice of forgiveness. Even with forgiveness slathered all over me, I was still elevating the hurt and needing to take my high places down. I eventually had to mute or unfriend people on social platforms so that I could move forward. I had made many great memories with these people, so to go from feast to famine (at least, that’s what it felt like) was hard.

I had to stop trying to make sense of it in my own understanding and trust the Lord to make my paths straight. And He did. He has shown me how beauty has come from the ashes. I just couldn’t see the beauty for the “high places” blocking everything.        

So many times, I asked myself why we were called to walk through this? The beautiful answer to that is in one word: miracle. During that season, we experienced a miracle that never could have happened if we hadn’t answered the call, and if for nothing else that will forever be enough. I continually asked myself why am I not enough? It has taken me a few years to realize the answer to that question. I was enough. The opportunities I’ve been given since that time just were not meant to happen in that season. If God hadn’t allowed the hurt to happen the way it did, I never would have left. I was totally bought into the movement, the hustle, the culture, the church— I was distracted by all the prettiness and trying to fit into ministry instead of letting ministry fit into me. God knew if he didn’t just strip that season away, I’d still be striving to fit in and prove myself to everyone else.

The positioning of the time was for a purpose and the people were an anointed people for God’s kingdom. They still are. Therefore, I don’t want to say anything to bring negative thinking from others towards God’s anointed. I learned that from King David. As hurtful as King Saul was to him, David himself would never harm God’s anointed.  For our struggle is not against flesh and blood.

Most people would call it “church hurt” but it wasn’t the Church that set it all into motion. It was circumstances that happen over a period of time, and I allowed the hurt to build. God doesn’t cause negative circumstances; His Church doesn’t cause negative circumstances. People aren’t perfect, so hurtful things will always be something that we have to walk through in all areas of life. Regardless, it’s up to us to address those situations sooner than not at all. No matter what, God can still work in the midst of hurt. A greater story can still be told. For me, I now consider it “growing pains” in preparation for greater things to come.

Despite all that, despite the healing that has relieved the hurt, there are still times when I’ll feel a sting from the past. There are times when it is easy to compare the past to the present, but no one who surrounds my present deserves that comparison. So, I’m learning (always learning) to pick up the rubble left over from the high places and throw them away, humbly letting go of the hurt. Choosing humility over hurt. It’s not about me, not how it made me feel, or the hurt itself. It’s about Gods providence and how He continues to use my story for His good.

I bow to Him not the hurt. He is my high place.