the devil is real

I napped in my car today.

I drove from one coffee shop to another, knowing that if I went home I’d just climb into bed until it was too late to write again. I’d wake up and think, “Surely there’s no time left in this day. Surely I should just take a bath and curl up in front of the fireplace and then go back to bed early so that surely tomorrow would have more hours in it than today.”

Surely.

My head was aching and my throat was dry from all the talking I’ve been doing lately, but I knew I needed to finish what I started. After a short nap in the parking lot, of course.

Satan isn’t going to shut me up on this.

I never expected coaching to lead me here. I’ve been going through life with many, many things on my heart, but it was all so much that trying to get any of it out was too overwhelming. Too tiring. How would I ever begin to sort through the endless thoughts about love and loss? Triumph and defeat? And those ordinary moments that quietly connected them every day?

My voice is stronger now. So I’ve been talking.

I opened my heart wide to talk about dating myself and being fearless.

This past weekend was hard. My heart was heavy. It longs for good things: to be loved for just being me at that first hug, to be challenged as a person, to be all in with love. But that longing had taken a swift turn from hopeful patience to angry despair at the beginning of the weekend. I was exhausted that night and vented about everything to a close friend as the clock approached midnight.

Let me say this first: I am surrounded by love. Truth-seeking, servant-hearted, Christ-centered couples who love with their whole hearts. My clients and close couple friends are all in the kind of relationship I know God has planned for me. And my friends – oh I’ve got stories of them loving me for daaays.

But my heart was so, so heavy over love that night. During that conversation I realized that it wasn’t just me thinking these things. It was too much to be just me.

When you are shining light into this dark world, being open with your story – every part of it, not just the highlights – the devil will try to stomp that light out.

He pokes at the parts of your heart that mean the most to you, that you’re the most sensitive about, to try shut you up. For me, that’s love. Being loved. I’m a wedding photographer; go figure.

The devil whispered lies into my heart all weekend.

Your words don’t matter.

No one cares what you think.

Your story isn’t worthy of being shared.

No one would want to pursue you, especially if you talked about that.

Your voice won’t reach anyone.

I was debating sharing the struggle my heart had wrestled with on Friday night. It’s not something new for me, but the attack on my heart was vicious this time.

Surely I’m not the only one whose life isn’t always glitter and Taylor Swift sing-alongs. Surely there are other people whose lives between pretty Instagram posts are sometimes full of rain and bad moods and uncertainty.

Surely.

 

Your blog post about being all in was beautiful. Thanks for being willing to speak from your heart.

Continue to share your joy and light to the world.

I was standing alone, leaning against the railing of my favourite dock, its wood branded with the weather worn initials of romantics from days gone by, when I got that text from one of my 2015 brides. The last strong rays of sun were hitting the opposite shoreline and I stood still, reading her words, knowing that the golden light would be gone all too quickly.

I didn’t want the light to fade. I didn’t want my light to fade.

The devil is real. His greatest accomplishment is making us believe he isn’t, but he is. He doesn’t deserve any glory, but the reality of his presence should be recognized. Those lies he feeds you when you’re doing good things, pursuing truth, sharing your light – he will find ways to get into your heart so sneakily that all of a sudden a beautiful moment is crushed because of the doubt, insecurity, and hurt you’ve been reminded of.

Recognize his slick voice. That voice that slithers in on a dark night when you’re alone or on a sunny afternoon when you’re surrounded by love but feel so lonely anyway.  That voice that sounds like it’s speaking truth about your insecurities and failures. That voice that has the audacity to tell you you’re not worthy of love.

When he’s attacking, fight back. Tell him to get the hell outta there. Maybe it’ll make God chuckle.

Kick Satan in the face.

This is a war, people. Don’t let him quiet your voice. Don’t let him stop you from sharing your story.

Jesus has overcome the grave. So let’s not shut up about it. 

 

PS. The messages, texts, phone calls, comments, and conversations I’ve been having since sharing my heart over the past few weeks have been beautiful. I have no idea who has read these words of mine, but I’m so honoured to be brought into your lives. Friends and strangers alike, for you to reach out and encourage me to keep sharing because you needed to hear the thing I shared – you are heard. I’m listening.

And I’m not shutting up.

 

Contact Laura // Connect on Facebook // Follow on Instagram