We all have secrets. We all have days when the cards are held close, guarded thickly by our shame or regret, days when the “closed” sign remains hanging on the doors of our hearts because the risk of opening ourselves is too great. Parts of us might be so easily broken that we hide them from ourselves. We nurture dreams and wounds which are as delicate as wild columbines.
When I was just beginning to get to know the man who would be my husband, I discovered that he had sequestered part of his heart and stamped a red “fragile” warning on it. I knew he’d open that door to me someday, and I prepared to offer grace. Sure enough, one February afternoon while hiking, I saw the tension building in him, the emotional clouds blowing in with the speed of a summer thunderstorm. It takes a lot of energy to hold oneself back, to hide from intimacy, and he was at the end of that energy. He opened himself that day, with humility and vulnerability. I baked him an apple pie that afternoon and left it as a surprise for him the next morning. And you know what? His soul was at rest. A heart that risks, that finds acceptance and unconditional love, knows deep rest. Our relationship changed that day.
The only rest for a heart heavy with secrets is to yield to intimacy, to disclose yourself to a trustworthy Savior. The cross is a sanctuary for the secret-laden. The cross does not condemn. The cross saves – saves us from our hiddenness, from the voice of sin that yells, “Cover up!”
Don’t remain bound by the exhaustion of holding yourself back. Find safety in the Savior who knows a little bit about pouring himself out. He doesn’t ask you to do what he has not done. He who held back none of his life, offers you the chance to hold back none of yours.