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“This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all” (1 John 1:5, NIV).
You’d never know it now, but I grew up as a hard-core tom-boy. Before the age of ten, you could find me shooting bows, looking for snake skins, and fishing with my dad. With my matching camouflage outfit, we were two peas in a pod, the best of friends, a daughter and her father. It’s no surprise that it was my dad who introduced me to Jesus when I was 8 years old.
When I turned 12, however, things changed. I no longer wanted to be a tom-boy, but a girly girl. My mom and I grew closer, while dad and I grew further apart. We still got along for the most part, but something was different. I was too young to understand at the time, but mental health rippled through my family, threatening to destroy everyone it came into contact with.
By 14, my dad was placed on disability. He’d had numerous unsuccessful hernia surgeries that left him weary, wounded, and broken. Almost overnight, his personality and our relationship changed. Simultaneously, I clung to a rigid and destructive eating disorder and addiction to exercise. My family was crumbling and this was something I could control. We both hid in the shadows, clutching what we thought would eventually dissipate. Scripture reminds us the things we keep hidden will eventually be brought to light:
“For all that is secret will eventually be brought into the open, and everything that is concealed will be brought to light and made known to all” (Luke 8:17, NLT).
