Today, my counselor and I visited the little girl that I blogged about in my last post. He led me to immerse myself back into the situation and let my mind lead me where it will. My mind led me to imagine that God was there, watching me as I wept at the thought of the impending eternal damnation. In my mind, I could see God…oddly enough, He looked like a combination of my earthly father and the Jesus we often see in pictures. God was sad. He rubbed my back as He tried to soothe me. He repeatedly sang, “You are the apple, you are the apple, you are the apple of your Father’s eye.” (If you don’t know what song I’m talking about, click here http://youtu.be/GilWu6LqHpM .) When my counselor asked me to reflect on this, I felt as though God was beside me all along. He was trying to comfort me, but my angst overwhelmed any sense of His presence. I then imagined Jesus as my could-have-been-playmate. I would run the Barbie, and He could control the Ken doll. Of course, I always made it that Barbie and Ken fought over who got to use the car. Jesus probably would have had them pray together and work out some sort of compromise. These thoughts make me smile, and I think they make Him smile, too. I think it saddens Him that so many who were and still are in the cult-church have not been able to experience His grace. It frustrates and angers me, and I feel a sense of urgency to do something to help. It does seem like the only way out for many people is for them to move away for college or marry someone from outside the church. There needs to be an opportunity to see another way…a more beautiful, grace-filled way.
I wonder if this will always be my default. If I will automatically feel fear and shame and then have to talk my way into grace-receiving thoughts. Will I always be the scared little girl? Or will I truthfully find my identity as His daughter without any doubts or waivering? Today, I just need to repeat in my mind: I am the apple of His eye. I am the apple of His eye.