It Takes Sacrifice

Day #77 (April 21, 2019)

My wonderful Risen Savior,

            I can’t help but start this letter off with the phrase I was taught to say every Easter Sunday, “He is Risen.” Oh Lord, you are risen indeed, and my soul is immeasurably grateful. Lord, I did not plan for my hair re-growth journey to end on such a day as this. (Some might not believe that, but I promise you I had no pre-conceived notions, nor desire, to prolong this non-pulling feat for an extra three(ish) weeks just to have it end on this religious holiday. This was all in your plan, Lord.) And as Dane and I walked early to church—we had the humble privilege of arriving to church early to set up the communion cups and bread before service—it all just became very clear to my heart, Lord. It makes total sense why you would want my hair re-growth journey to end on Easter Sunday.

            Easter Sunday represents victory, i.e., victory over death, victory over sin, victory over separation, and victory over darkness. Now, the thing about victory, and you know this all too well Jesus, is it is not easily won. It takes sacrifice. (I am so glad you can read my heart because this is all so hard for me to express in words, but I will try.) Lord, that Friday many years ago, you took upon yourself a heavy weight (the likes of which I will never be able to fully grasp), and you took it willingly (Mathew 27). What an agonizing burden everyone’s secret and known sins—wrong doings of all who have ever and will ever live on this earth—must have been, especially when carried by a mutilated body and wounded heart (Mathew 27:26). Though physically abused and mocked unmercifully (Mathew 27:27-30), you carried the weight that belonged to me—to everyone—with a strength born of deep, unfathomable, love until it was nailed to that deadly cross with you (1 Peter 2:24). I don’t know how you did it, but hallelujah! Praise you, Jesus, because Friday was never the end of the story. For Resurrection Sunday—Easter Sunday—was near at hand.

            My wonderful Savior, on this Resurrection Sunday, Paul’s words to the church in Corinth are so important. “For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures…” (1 Corinthians 15:3-4). How foolish the darkness was to think it had any power over you. For you were mightier than the grave, and my heart sings for joy because you are risen from the dead indeed, Jesus. Risen so that whoever believes that you are the Son of God—whoever believes the truth Paul wrote to the Corinthian church—may live forever, never separated from their loving Heavenly Father. Like seriously, Jesus, Dane and I were walking down the street, towards church, discussing this quite animatedly, and my heart just swelled with this beautiful truth: If God could give you up, His only Son, to save me—and you not fight back but, instead, go willingly to the cross in my place—then I sure as heck need to be brave enough to give all that I am for the both of you.

            Lord, today really reminded me that I have the ability to be a light—be a little bit of you Jesus—in someone’s life, if I am willing to give up, sacrifice, the “security” of a hidden struggle. If I am brave enough to lay the struggle bare (and not worry so much about what unkind people may think or say about me), it might just help someone else walk through their struggle, with OCD and Trichotillomania, a little less alone and with a friend. Maybe sharing my words will also help them see that it is okay to come to you angry (not blaming); it is okay to be confused and question you; and it is okay to express to you feelings of abandonment because all these feelings are real. (They are feelings I am sure you wouldn’t mind us sharing with you because, well, you get what it is like to feel deeply as a human being, and you would want to work through those feelings with us.)

            Jesus, I just want them to see you—even more clearly than I had amidst the terribly hard stuff—and take notice of how you were there for me daily, weekly, and monthly, putting into place loving comforts and challenging purpose into my life because you truly are so good amidst the struggle. And the thing is, I know the Father does not pick favorites (Romans 2:11). Your sacrifice, Jesus, was meant for everyone—we just have the responsibility to accept that sacrificial gift—and your loving comforts can be seen in each persons’ life (John 3:16). Sometimes, and it is a bit of a weird thing to say, it takes hardship to open our eyes to those things you have placed lovingly into our lives.

            So, Jesus, I ask that you help me be brave—and not let the fear of what others may think or say of me, or the big fear of mucking things up, hold me back—because if I sacrifice the “security” of a hidden struggle, and share the ups and downs of my battle with OCD and Trichotillomania, others might have their eyes opened a tad bit clearer. People might just see you—I mean really see you—first in my struggle but then in theirs. That could really strengthen the hearts of believers, Lord. Plus, say it only helps one person who is questioning faith in you, and they finally see you, and they make the choice to follow you wholeheartedly, then that one person is worth all the sacrifice in the world. Don’t you agree, Jesus!?

Always,

Your Daughter Kaitlan

P.S. Man, oh man, Lord. Could you imagine if the majority of people gave up the “security” of their hidden struggle? I would imagine the world around us would be a much brighter place full of greater relatability, compassion, sympathy, and brotherly love. I do not want to pressure anyone to open up before they are ready, Lord. (I mean, sometimes I do not feel ready. I sometimes see it similarly to having a baby; no matter how much you prepare, you are never 100% ready.) But I would love to ask, for those who are seriously contemplating opening up about their trials, that you supply them with extra courage because I bet their opening up might just mean the world to one of their family members, friends, coworkers, neighbors, etc. And, through the sacrifice of that “security,” they might just shine a little bit of you, Jesus, in that other person’s life. So, let them be brave, Lord. Let them be so very brave.

. . . Ohhhhh! And stay tuned, Lord, for the final update in my hair re-growth journey! (Can you believe it!!??)

Thank you for reading! If you are new, this is a chronological blog series. It is best read in order. CLICK HERE for the intro.