Tag: being misunderstood

From accused, misunderstood and labelled to precious daughter of God…

I am thrilled to welcome Joanna Chee to the Unmasked: stories of authenticity blog series. She is a true source of encouragement to those who connect with her, which I felt first-hand when she agreed to be a beta reader for my book Taking Off the Mask.

I love God’s timing and the way He knits things together – the subject matter she touches on in this blog post is one that God has been prompting me to speak on at conferences recently. Becoming the people that others labelled us as – even years ago – rather than who God made us to be is something many of us struggle with. And God, in His grace, may well reveal to us episodes in our own past that have an unhealthy hold on us. If Joanna’s story resonates with you, why not take the time to go before God and ask Him to minister to your heart, and let you know if there is anything from your past that still has a grip on you. He is a healing God and wants to see you walk into true freedom in Him… But enough of me – it’s over to Joanna now!

God has done an amazing unmasking in my life the last few years.

I have such new joy in being me!

I’ve thrown off labels. I’ve received deep healing. I’ve found freedom in being who I really am – a precious daughter of God.

I grew up ‘the quiet one’. I was shy, not confident of my own worth or talents (even though I excelled in every area at school). I often felt left out and a ‘hanger-on’. Into my adult years, there were times I felt misunderstood and unappreciated, especially by male leaders. This caused deep pain. I withdrew, feeling I had nothing worth offering. I desperately wanted others to take the time to get to know the real me. But I became who others said I was. I became what I thought others were thinking of me.

Then God stepped in!

He revealed an event from my childhood, an incident completely forgotten. He showed me the pattern it had set in place, a pattern of my feeling misunderstood, labelled and unappreciated, especially by male authority figures.

I’ll take you to my primary school classroom and show you how it all began:

‘Who wrote this?’ my teacher demanded, anger and disbelief filling his voice. My friend looked around, then turned her eyes on me.

‘Joanna,’ she said. 

*** 

I was nine years old. I loved school and especially my new teacher, Mr Stanwell. He was the first male teacher I’d ever had, and he was lots of fun. That morning we had free time in class, and I was making a folded paper-thingy – my daughter tells me it’s called a chatterbox – you know, the origami-style folded paper with flaps, where you ask someone to choose a colour, then a number, and open and close the flaps accordingly, till you end up with a witty comment like ‘You stink!’ or ‘You love Tommy Biggs!’ Lots of amusement for nine-year-old girls! I’d written something in every space but one, and was stuck for another idea.

‘What shall I write?’ I asked my friends. Lara came up with an idea.

‘_____ ____!’ she suggested.

I wrote it down. It was a phrase I’d never heard before. I was a good shy Christian girl with no idea it was one of the most offensive things you could ever say to someone.

We had fun playing with my folded chatterbox. A friend asked if she could do it on our teacher. ‘Of course!’ I replied.

What are the chances?

One-in-eight, actually.

Mr Stanwell chose a colour: open – close – open – close – open – close – open. Mr Stanwell chose a number: open – close – open – close – open. Mr Stanwell chose a flap. My friend opened it up, and read out loud, ‘_____ ____!’

***

Mr Stanwell said nothing more about it in class that morning. At lunch time, he called me in from the playground. I remember standing awkwardly with him in the school corridor as he launched into his diatribe: ‘I don’t care if you use that kind of language at home! I don’t care if you use that kind of language on the street! But don’t you ever use that kind of language in my classroom! Do you understand?’ All I could do was give a small nod as he dismissed me back into the playground.

I didn’t tell anyone what had happened.

Over the following months, Mr Stanwell organised lots of fun projects and activities for our class. He appointed students to positions of responsibility – class monitors, library helpers, and playground helpers. I longed to be chosen for something special. My friends were chosen. But Mr Stanwell did not choose me. It hurt.

The years passed. I grew. I forgot. I didn’t think about it again.

(An excerpt from the introduction of my book Forever Loved: Eve’s Story)

Accused. Misunderstood. Not given a chance.

Though I didn’t know it at the time, or until quite recently, that one event began my always longing to be understood, my always longing to be affirmed and valued. It triggered my longing for someone, especially a male leader, to take the time to know the real me (which I know now wasn’t an appropriate longing).

God ministered deep healing and release to me, as He reminded me of this classroom incident. I forgave my teacher and others I’d been hurt by. I felt God come close as Father, and pour His love out on me.

My ongoing journey is one of discovering my true identity as God’s precious daughter – valued, appreciated, truly known for who I am. I am learning to turn to God for affirmation and acceptance, and not to man.

God has revealed Himself to me as Father most amazingly through the biblical story of Eve. Eve is, perhaps, the most labelled, most accused, most misunderstood woman of all time. Yes, she sinned (as we all do), but she was also God’s precious daughter, the one He loved unconditionally, the one He walked and talked with, the one He sought out, cherished, rescued and redeemed.

My new book Forever Loved: Eve’s Story is the story of Father and daughter, as told by Eve. It is a revelation of God’s love for Eve. It is a revelation of God’s love for us, as women. My prayer, through the book, is for women around the world to encounter God as Father, whether for the first time, or in deeper measure.

Let me pray that for you too, right now. (If you’re a man, you’re just as loved – God’s amazing son! You’ll need to change some words in the prayer, but receive it as your own.):

Dear God,

Thank you for the precious woman reading this. Overwhelm her with your love and presence. Take her deeper into you. Reveal yourself as Father. Pour out on her. Thank you, she is beautiful, she is accepted, she is cherished. Bring healing to areas of hurt. Reveal, and gently remove, masks that have been put in place. Bring her into the freedom of who she really is in you. Thank you for the amazing future you have for her, as your treasured daughter!

In Jesus’ name. Amen

May you experience a fresh touch of God today. Bless you!

(And thank you so much Claire for letting me share as part of your Unmasked series.)

Joanna xx

I’d love to give you an Eve Devotional I’ve written (which includes excerpts from ‘Forever Loved: Eve’s Story’). You can get it for free here: 3 Things You Never Knew About Eve: A Devotional Study

 

Joanna Chee gets excited about God! She loves to write, and is often awake in the night with a million ideas for her next book or project. Joanna blogs at JoannaMayChee.com and MumsKidsJesus.com, where it is her heart to encourage and equip women to love their families and meet with God. She is author of Forever Loved: Eve’s Story, a creative retelling of the Bible story of Eve, and a #1 Amazon UK bestseller. Connect with Joanna: Facebook.com/JoannaMayChee | Facebook.com/MumsKidsJesus | Pinterest.co.uk/MumsKidsJesus

 

Umasked: fuelled by misunderstanding; removed through love

It is such a pleasure to welcome Vicki Cottingham to my guest blog series Unmasked: stories of authenticity today. With courage and vulnerability she shares how difficult it was to remove her mask due to ill health and misunderstandings.

I am very familiar with mask wearing. I became ill with M.E. (also known as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) over twenty years ago. I also suffer with chronic migraines and depression. In the beginning it was particularly hard to adjust to. Whenever I prepared to meet with anyone I would make sure that my mask was firmly in place.

People in my life, such as family, friends and church, knew I was living with this long-term illness, but I didn’t like to talk about it. If anyone asked how I was, rather than be honest with them and tell them ‘I’m really struggling, I’m depressed and my poor health is getting to me’, I would tell them that I was fine thank you and then quickly change the subject. I would paste a smile on my face while inside I was an emotional mess.

I was afraid of being judged, afraid that people would think I was just being lazy, or a hypochondriac, or making a fuss about nothing, because everyone gets tired, and everyone has aches and pains, don’t they?

Being misunderstood

I was afraid of people’s misunderstanding, because being misunderstood just felt so painful. For me, being misunderstood was actually one of the hardest things to cope with when struggling with an unseen illness. Before my diagnosis, I remember my GP telling me all I needed was to get out in the fresh air, and go for a walk on the Downs. As if that would be the solution to whatever was ailing me.

When asked how I was, there were some people who weren’t really prepared for an honest answer. They were just going through the formalities of asking how I was. After all, that’s what we do, don’t we? We politely ask someone how they are today and expect the response to be ‘Fine, thank you’. The truth was, I was far from fine, but didn’t feel able to share what my life was really like. I couldn’t face dealing with people’s misunderstanding of me and my illness.

People would say to me how well I looked and then ask me how I was. I didn’t then feel able to say that actually I felt really ill that day, that it had been hard to get to church that morning and that I would need to rest for the remainder of the day as a result. Because I was so hurt by misunderstanding I resolved to keep my mask on to avoid being hurt any more. I thought it was better to keep the truth to myself, and so I hid behind the mask that I had perfected.

Now that I can see things more clearly, I realise that it wasn’t others’ fault that they didn’t understand what M.E. was and how it affected me, because at that time very little was known or understood of the illness. I also know that none of these people intentionally set out to cause me pain. I was overly sensitive as a result of the illness and was also struggling to come to terms with it myself.

Impossible to maintain the mask

I feared being vulnerable and letting people see the real me. What if I broke down and cried in front of them? What would they think of me? I felt I had to pretend I had it all together. It was all pretence and the mask was my protection.

I found that wearing this mask for any length of time was hard work. It took a lot of energy. Energy I didn’t really have and so I felt drained by trying so hard to keep it from slipping. It was impossible to maintain and was certainly not a healthy way for me to live.

In my season of mask wearing, while I was distant with others, my relationship with God grew stronger and deeper. Over time he enabled me to remove my mask.

What helped me to take off my mask

There were two things in particular that helped me to remove my mask and be real. First, was my relationship with God. When it feels like everything has been taken away from you, all you are left with is God, and God came to mean everything to me. He reassured me of His unconditional love for me time and time again and, because He loves and accepts me I have no fear of His rejection, His displeasure or His judgement. It says in 1 John 4:10–18 (NLT):

This is real love—not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins… We know how much God loves us, and we have put our trust in his love.  God is love, and all who live in love live in God, and God lives in them. And as we live in God, our love grows more perfect… Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear.  

God created me deliberately and so He knows and understands the real me. I can be completely honest with Him; I don’t need to hide who I am, how I’m really feeling or pretend that I have no problems or struggles. As Psalm 139:1–4 (NLT) says:

 O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord.

It is very freeing and liberating when we realise that with God there really is no need to pretend to be something we are not, that we can be who we really are: ‘And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free’ John 8:32 (NLT).

The other thing that helped me was having real, intimate friendships with others. I said how some people just didn’t understand what I was going through. But there were others who stood by me and offered me friendship, even when they didn’t fully understand. They have given me practical help, have listened to me as I’ve explained how I’m really feeling and the struggles I’m having, and they have prayed for and with me. They have shown me that they really care about me. They have given me love and acceptance. I found that there was no need for me to wear a mask when I was with them. I was able to be real and honest with them.

Over the years I have learnt the value of these friendships and God has blessed me with some great friends. These genuine, intimate friendships take time to develop – they don’t happen overnight, but they are definitely worth investing in.

In these friendships we: ‘Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight in honouring each other’ Romans 12:10 (NLT). These friendships mirror the relationship we have with God. In John 15:12 (NLT) Jesus says, ‘This is my commandment: Love each other in the same way I have loved you’.

Giving permission to others

I have found that when I am real with others it also gives them the freedom to be real with me. It’s something we all need – to be free to be who God created us to be. In this kind of environment, we feel safe to be ourselves, rather than pretend to be something that we are not. We can share our struggles, our fears, our sins, our problems etc., and know that we are loved and accepted. It’s in this kind of environment that we can all have the confidence and security to remove our masks and be real with each other.

Vicki Cottingham lives in the South East of England with her husband and two teenage children. She has a love for God’s Word, studying it and sharing it with others through the written and spoken word.  Her joy of writing led her to writing a regular devotional blog called Hope for Today.