In my old hometown, there's an abandoned house on the corner of Ford and Woodland Street. It resides in a small neighborhood I walked around many times as a child. Just off the beaten path of dirt and gravel roads, you can't miss the eyesore.
Anyone who sees the house today would agree it's a dangerous environment. Inside and out, it wouldn't be safe to step foot in. You don't need to attempt to open the back door or walk up the crumbling staircase to know it's unsafe.
Unfortunately, most of us don't recognize our environment is unsafe or unstable this easily. We very well may live in an "abandoned house," but to us, that home is a king's house. It's all we’ve ever known. Our sanctuary could be a prison, but we lack the skills to break free.
On the other hand, we may recognize the instability but feel stuck. The house is haunted, and falling apart. We’ve fully acknowledged and accepted that fact. But where else do we go? What do we do when the monsters and ghosts that inhabit our home are family? When we long for safety, yet are paralyzed?
This is what happened to me.
Sophomore Year and Trashing My Temple
It was the middle of my sophomore year. I was sixteen. My dad had been placed on disability two years earlier, and things were only growing worse. I thought I wanted to be a veterinarian, so I enrolled in pre-college-level classes. I quickly learned math and science weren’t my friends, and I didn’t fancy operating on fetal pigs. The realization that all the career ambitions I’d worked towards were for nothing crushed me—but not as much as the realization that everything in my environment was unstable. Not only was my home becoming a quagmire, but so was my temple.
Have you abandoned your soul?
For seven years, I wrestled behind the scenes. All around me were horror stories of verbal, mental, and emotional abuse. Slamming doors, robbers synonymous with family, and physically dangerous situations were my norm.
I coped the only way I knew how, but it was no use. I'd already abandoned my soul to who others said I was. Before I knew it, I believed their lies and the voices inside my head:
"You'll never be good enough."
"You'll end up like your family."
"You need to prove your worth."
"You'll never be worthy."
The voices were deadly. The only food I received for nourishment was tears. An addiction to exercise and reduction of nutrients will do that to the body. It starves more than a physical stature. It starves the soul.
Though it's been seven years since the Lord set me free from those demons, I still have ghosts that keep me up at night. Some present, past, and future. Being a Christian doesn't mean I won't struggle. It means I know Someone who will help me see and achieve victory over them.
My question for you today is just that: Have you abandoned your soul? Gotten so worn and weary from the fight that you've thrown in the towel? Believed the lie that your faith would be better left at the door?
I know I have. I've struggled to hold onto hope when darkness is all I see. If most of us are honest, I think we've all been there. While we don't like to talk about it, maybe we're there even now. And you know what? That's okay. It's okay to acknowledge you're not okay. It's okay to acknowledge if there are cobwebs in your temple and you need help getting them out.
A Humble Lesson
One of the most humbling lessons the Lord has taught me about my struggles is that to heal, I have to be willing to admit them to Him, myself, and others. I have to prioritize cleaning my house, replacing the lies with the truth, and remaining on guard.
John 10:10 reaffirms the accusations you might hear: "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full" (NIV).
As we begin Holy Week, it's my prayer that you'll begin the week cleaning house. And not cleaning your literal home with four walls, but the home within your body, mind, and soul. Take the time to clear out the cobwebs. Share your struggles with Him, and when you're ready, share them with someone you trust.
Sometimes, I've found that confessing and acknowledging my struggles to myself can be the most challenging. I'm my own worst critic. But in confession is the freedom we seek.
When Jesus cleansed the Temple in Matthew 21:12-17, the building needed redemption. God's place had been distorted into a house of robbers and thieves. Not only were people taking advantage of other people, but they were exploiting a holy and sacred place.
Taking care of our temples—heart, soul, and mind can be approached the same way. They need to be cleansed often. And that's okay. What matters is that we're open to and aware of our need for cleansing.
In anticipation of Easter, I'm working on cleaning my temple. I'm analyzing what I need to work on and being honest with those around me—including myself. Though Jesus resides within my temple, He doesn't expect me to have everything perfect when He comes back. He knows I'm trying. He knows you're trying, too.
As we walk together today, friend, know that Jesus loves you even if your home needs sweeping and a good clean. He's within you, sees you, and cares. And He wants to help you restore your temple.
"Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies." 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 (NIV)
What is one way you can work on restoring your temple this week?
If you're looking for ideas, try journaling, meditating on your favorite passage of Scripture, asking God to speak, or talking about your struggles with someone you trust. My action plan is going to look something like this if you need more inspiration:
A Weekly Guide for Restoring Your Temple
Monday:
1. Pray for 10 minutes.
2. Read for 20 minutes.
3. Share my struggles with my husband.
Tuesday:
1. Pray for 10 minutes.
2. Read for 30 minutes.
3. Journal for 15 minutes.
Wednesday:
1. Pray for 10 minutes.
2. Read for 20 minutes.
3. Journal for 10 minutes.
Thursday:
1. Pray for 10 minutes.
2. Talk to a friend about my struggles.
3. Journal and meditate on God's Word using an Encounter meditation.
Friday:
1. Read Scripture with a sit-down breakfast.
2. Take time to process and reflect on Good Friday.
3. Pray with my husband (can be your friend, a co-worker, etc.).
4. Worship in a Good Friday service and prepare my heart.
If these ideas don't work for you, that's okay! These are just suggestions, recommendations, and ideas. I'd love to read what ways you're cleaning house this week and how I can help support you on your journey.
Agape, Amber
Photo Credit: ©iStock/Getty Images Plus/RyanJLane
Amber Ginter is a teacher-turned-author who loves Jesus, her husband Ben, and granola. Growing up Amber looked for faith and mental health resources and found none. Today, she offers hope for young Christians struggling with mental illness that goes beyond simply reading your Bible and praying more. Because you can love Jesus and still suffer from anxiety. You can download her top faith and mental health resources for free to help navigate books, podcasts, videos, and influencers from a faith lens perspective. Visit her website at amberginter.com.