A child without a name. No record of her existence. No acknowledgement of her life by her mother, family, or society . . . and, if the world would have the final say, no memory of her whatsoever. But it’s a lie. She did exist. She existed in my womb, experiencing all the wonders of life as only the pre-born know it. Also, she existed in the dreams of all the couples that were never granted the joy of caring for her. And she existed in the doctor’s hands as he maneuvered his instruments in order to violate the very core of what should define a doctor’s highest calling. And lastly, for the past twenty-five years, her memory has existed within my own heart, chained in secret captivity.
I never knew this prison existed until the night of June 17, 2008. Usually I fall asleep fairly easily, but that night I lay awake tossing and turning for hours. I recalled my last sleepy glance at the glowing red numbers; it was 1:33am. I suppose I fell asleep soon afterwards as I next awoke to the obnoxious “reep, reep, reep!” of the alarm clock just as I reached the end of a most disturbing dream.
…I stepped toward the little girl and knelt at her side. Because I was facing her back and the hood of her jacket was pulled up over her head, I still could not see her face. Then, very gingerly, she turned toward me, but her face wasn’t there! Instead, countless twisted cords lashed out all along the edge of the hood forming a mangled, hardened mask. The tightly pulled cords were so knotted that only two tiny, random holes remained, forbidding either light to enter or her cries to escape. Her agony mounted, pressing harder and harder, so that I feared the depth of her torment would bleed right through the thick web of her prison.
A downpour of tears spilled over my fingers as I leaned over her trembling body and slowly began untying the knots . . . Then I awoke.
It’s been 5 years now and I’ve never forgotten that dream. God revealed the pain and anguish in my soul that I was keeping hidden behind a mask. We all wear masks—not just to project a different image of ourselves to others—but even to deceive ourselves. This should not surprise us. The Bible teaches us in Jeremiah 17:9,
“The heart is deceitful above all things…who can understand it?”
When God looks at you, He sees behind the mask. He loves you and when He sees you-the real you-He is filled with compassion. It is imperative that we measure our worth not based on how we see ourselves, but on how God sees us. God’s love for you is not based on what you’ve done or haven’t done, but rather on what Christ did on the Cross.
“But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ.” -Ephesians 2:13
Visit the Worthy of Love page to download a free sample, find an online group, watch the promo video, or find resources (including Leader’s Guide) to start a group. We all know someone who needs hope!