Made for Connection
Several years ago, I decided to volunteer at the local hospital as a baby cuddler. It was a relatively new program, and it based its purpose off of research finding the connection between health and physical touch. The babies I specifically cuddled rarely if ever had visitors that came to hold them. These babies typically went through substance withdrawal on top of regular preemie baby struggles. The odds stacked against them.
A study at the University of British Columbia in 2017 found evidence in the DNA of children based on the amount of physical contact received during infancy. It supported the long-time theory that babies who failed to thrive needed more than proper nutrition and shelter. They needed connection. A connection that changed their very DNA. God didn’t create us to live isolated lives. We weren’t designed to bear our burdens alone.
Our whole purpose is to be in fellowship with God and with others.
Being made new in Jesus changes our very DNA—our identity. The day I decided to accept Jesus as my Savior filled me with such warmth and love I had never experienced before. I felt that acceptance I longed for most of my life. This change felt like thawing out after a long day of playing in the snow. That tingling as the warmth from the room finally reaches your icy toes. That deliciousness of the gooey grilled cheese and hot tomato soup. A feeling of love and comfort and warmth. Nothing says this better than grilled cheese and tomato soup on a cold day. It will likely remain my favorite meal for life.
When we become a new creation in Jesus, God reveals the labels that we’ve allowed to define us. He reveals the lies that we believed for too long. He kicks them down in order to build something better. Fear wasn’t created to protect us. God is supposed to be our refuge and fortress. He wants to give us an abundant life. A life that is bigger than we could ever imagine for ourselves. Which honestly, is a bit scary sometimes. But we must choose trust.
God’s faithfulness will change us to our core if we allow it. When we allow God to define us, we will hear whispers of our calling. God called me years ago to write. But it felt so foreign and scary. So far from invisible. Every opportunity I attempted to walk through that door, I let Fear intimidate and so I would retreat once again to my fear cell. I lived fully deceived, but that small whisper to write forever changed me. That whisper lit a spark, and that spark dared to dream, and that dream became a fire. A fire I couldn’t ignore and couldn’t put out.
I’ve imagined writing a book. What the cover would look like. What topic it would be on. How it would feel to be “an author”. I’ve also imagined you. You’ve lived in my mind for years. I imagined you sitting in your favorite spot and in your hands is this completed book. You’ve creased the spine not caring that that’s a complete no-no because you’re so deep into the words that God has given me to share with you. You’ve broken out your favorite highlighter or pen to make sure you capture every drop of truth from God. The picture of you got stuffed into a box of dreams that I tucked under the bed for years while I let Fear run the show.
I bought Fear’s lies. I was terrified that you would never read this book so I spent years trying to throw out the picture of you reading it. I believed that my words weren’t valuable enough. I wasn't enough. So I found evidence that supported that. I would try to write a blog, and I hyper focused on the negative comments and ignored the good. I would hide my gift and because no one knocked on my front door begging me to write the next great book, I didn’t have what they were looking for. Standing back, I see the absurdity, yet that’s what we all do when we look through the lens of Fear. It becomes the filter through which we see our life. Fear doesn’t want us to walk out our callings.
