There was no transformation. Maybe you've seen or heard of some person who found Jesus and instantly did a 180 in life and got clean, sober, honest, responsible....whatever. That wasn't me.
My dysfunction was all I had ever known, and so I welcomed Jesus into the doorway of my heart. I didn't invite him all the way in, because then I would've had to be different, and even when staying the same is bad for you, sometimes it's less scary because you already know how to function in the midst of it.
When I was 16, I was a terrible person. At 17, I was a really terrible person. I was incredibly close to my youth pastor's wife who took me under her wing and through some selfish actions, I inadvertently ripped her to shreds. I will never forget what it looked and felt like sitting there watching her cry when the crap hit the fan.
I remember when, weeks later, I discovered her saying, "I wish Tammy would leave, but I would never wish her upon another church, either."
I remember her calling the leader of my Romania team in advance to "warn" him about me.
I remember a youth trip to Disneyland and not being acknowledged by her all day.
I remember my 18th birthday party when nobody showed up except for 2 very brave, unconditional friends.
It was completely my fault. I was my own undoing. Truly, I was a terrible person.
Fast forward years later, and I was happily living life with Jesus now in the living room. I had let Him in, and while I was still hiding some some pretty impressive messes in a back room somewhere, my life was really good.
New town, new church, new friends. I was in the "inner circle." I did everything right.
Just kidding, I so did not.
But still, there weren't any glaring sin in my life or emotional torture tactics being used on my closest friends as a way to protect myself. I was happy, usually confident and mostly healthy.
Through a rather odd turn of events, things ended up crumbling there, too. A staff member went out of her way to ostracize me. She blocked me on Facebook and sent out an email to others entitled "The Truth About Tammy Warta," asking that people call her for information.
I asked her what my truth was, as I was one to majorly wear my heart on my sleeve. I already had no secrets.
She refused to answer. And she never said a word to me again.
The difference between this situation and the one where I was a crazy 17 year old tyrant was that this time wasn't my fault. Anyone who knows me knows I'm quick to apologize and quick to blame myself - but years later, I still cannot for the life of me figure out why I was punished so severely in this second situation. The first, I deserved it. The second, I spent years trying to find a way to make it all my fault.
It completely broke me. I cried for weeks. I lost some of my best friends. There are still people that when I run into them, they treat me like a leper. I don't know what "the truth" ended up being, but she must have come up with something really sensational and awful because a few people have seemed genuinely stunned to discover I'm even still alive when they see me shopping at Target.
I never recovered. I never trusted again. I am very outgoing, friendly and passionate on the surface - but touch me the wrong way and I'll bite.
I've lived my life on freak out mode for years now - which you know, is totally awesome and manageable when you are directing a non-profit, raising two little kids and work in the writing field where every day is some form of edit or rejection, right?
Gosh.
Last night I decided to be whole again. And I'm not changing my mind. I prayed with, ironically, my current pastor's wife - who has been bitten by me lots and yet still doesn't seem to budge even an inch.
Jesus is totally walking through my back room now. Yuck. I mean, great, but yuck.
In my prayer time today, I said to myself, "Self, who ever told you that you don't deserve a parking space in life? Somewhere to stay and just be?"
"Well lots of people," I responded to myself. "________ and ________ for example....."
"Okay!" my self responded. "It's okay for that to remain rhetorical......the real question is, are you willing to let yourself be here?"
Yes. I am. The answer finally is yes. A timid, nervous yes, but affirmative nonetheless.
Enough of the self-hate and the apologies on behalf of my very existence. I've been given a parking space for however long God chooses to issue it to me, and no one is allowed to take it away.
In my newfound confidence, I found that wonderful woman who mentored me when I was 17 and that I hurt so fully. Ah, the terrible convenience of Facebook and our 40 mutual friends......I wrote her and my then-pastor a message apologizing. Truly, humbly saying I was sorry for the sins I committed against them 17 years ago.
How funny to think I've lived exactly the same amount of years without them as I was old on the day I lost them.
I got confirmation they received my message. It was met with silence.
I don't know what I expected. Open-armed forgiveness and the satisfying bleep of two new friend requests?
No. They will never let me into their world again. And that's okay. I've done what I can to reconcile, and more importantly, I'm right with God. His forgiveness is the most healing balm on the soul.
And despite that sting of regret, I am okay. I'm still a horrible person, you know. We all are. We sin every day.
But God forgives us and loves us. When the world seems to be going out of its way to make us feel worthless, our Jesus remains wild about us.
He died so that we have a right to our space in this world. No one - NO ONE - can take that away. And best of all, you will find there are many wonderful people on this journey actually willing to come visit your space and connect it to theirs.
When I was 17 and awful, those who cracked my shell and knew me actually found me to be silly, fun and worth knowing. I like to think that pieces of that girl are coming back again.
I have a right to my space here - completely because Jesus gave up His so I could have mine.
Fellow dwellers with hurting hearts, we must remember to tell ourselves that we have permission to be here and be okay.
Whether someone breaks us or we break ourselves, our meaning and purpose dont simply vaporize.
Outside of the king's horses, and beyond the king's men......the King Himself can put Humpty together again.
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