This is is basically my story, although I did get the idea for a letter from a To Write Love on Her Arms
blog post.
Dear Boss in
my Brain,
You stole my
childhood.
How many
hours did I spend obeying your demands when I could have been playing outside?
You lied to
me.
You told me
you'd keep me safe. You told me if I just did what you said, I would stay
healthy. My friends would accept me. My parents and teachers would be proud.
You mocked
me as I angrily accepted the 4th grade "Neatness Award."
That stupid certificate wasn't worth the hours wasted forming each letter
slowly, perfectly.
Dear Boss in
my Brain,
You play on
my fears
Of sickness,
death, rejection, disapproval.
You're the
constant nagging voice, telling me that if I don't do things just your way, I
won't be "good enough."
You torment
me with the idea that if I don't confess my sins "just so," God won't
forgive me. That if I don't measure up, God won't love me.
How much money
have I spent on medication that muffles your voice but doesn't shut you up?
And I'm sure
now you're smiling wickedly as I recount all your "successes" and how
you've stolen my life.
You
convinced me that you own me. That I'm your slave and I can never escape. That
you're just a part of who I am. And for many years I believed you—until a
friend told me how she'd been set free from her own "boss." Hope was
awakened because I saw that, just maybe, freedom was possible for me too.
Dear Boss in
my Brain,
You planned
to exploit me and torment me.
But you
didn't plan for me to learn at an early age that God can bring good out of
pain.
You didn't plan
for me to learn not to believe everything I hear.
You didn't
plan for me to learn God's true heart of love.
Dear Boss in
my Brain,
You no
longer own me, for I have a new Master.
He speaks
words of life, not condemnation.
He tells me,
"Do not fear."
He loves me
so much that he was even willing to die in my place.
He seeks my
good and not my harm.
He is the
One I've chosen to follow.
He is the
One I'll listen to.
My new
Master
Is Jesus.
