Can’t Give What You Don’t Have

falls

I recently stated reading a book by Brene Brown called The Gifts of Imperfection. I was in the first chapters when it reads, “You can’t give what you don’t have.” That sentence stopped me cold. I wrestled with it all day. I was overwhelmed by the truth of that statement, and overwhelmed by how hard I try to give what I don’t have.

I have this deep desire to prevent my children from experiencing many of the heartaches I experienced as a child. The icky things are easy to identify. I don’t want them to experience abuse. That’s easy.

The reality is I don’t want them to experience the emotional pain that shows up in my life through: emptiness, brokenness, feeling incapable, unworthy, scared, unloveable, being in denial, afraid of the unknown, unengaged in life. These are my fears as a parent. I want my children to feel whole, complete, worthy, and fully lovable. So, when I read the statement, “You can’t give what you don’t have,” more fear crept in. I have spent their entire lives trying to give them something I don’t have to give. If I don’t have it myself, how can I give it away?

God has restored many of those empty places in my heart, but I still have work to do. Apparently, I should be paying more attention to holes in my heart that still exist than trying to prevent their hearts from breaking. I’m having a love/hate relationship with the phrase “can’t give what you don’t have.” I acknowledge that I must have it within me to be able to give it away, but crap, I’ve been going about this all wrong. I’m guessing I’m not alone in this. As parents, we want to protect our children and give them everything we felt we were lacking.

God is love. When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us. This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and mature in us, so that we’re free of worry on Judgment Day—our standing in the world is identical with Christ’s. There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love. (1 John 4:17-18 MSG)

God has taken up a permanent residence in my life. We are still working on some of those fears that are lingering. I am not, yet, fully formed in love. All I can give my children is the best of what I have, a heart that has been transformed but is not completely finished. I can reinforce for them that it is God who has taken the hurts of life and transformed them into love and compassion, and to encourage them to do the same. Ugh! Once again I have to relinquish trying to control what happens in my children’s lives, AND do the work with God to continue transforming my own. It is in my own healed heart that allows others to see what God can and will do. This is living wholeheartedly.

Will you join me? Is this a struggle you share? Leave a comment and we can encourage each other as we heal.

 

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