By "good girl," I don't mean angel. I mean someone accommodating, who rarely rocks the boat. She's a conciliator, a forgiver. She often thinks her needs are less important than other people's, although this may translate more into low self-esteem than into altruistic activity.
If you're not sure how a "good girl" can also be a rebel, let me illustrate.
In the aftermath of my marriage, I had a lot of old baggage to sort through. I was helped enormously by a Christian counsellor, who noticed pretty much immediately that I had co-dependency issues. That is, I hadn't developed self-protective boundaries in some areas. I had allowed certain people to override my voice for a long time; at one point, I actually thought I was invisible. (When I first learned to drive, at age 32, I was astonished to discover that people could see me. ...I wish I were making that up.)
Over the years, I learned a set of not particularly ennobling strategies and defense mechanisms to get myself heard. By the grace of the Lord, most of these are gone now, replaced with gentler ways. Some defiance has remained, though. Until recently, I didn't realize what self-sabotaging forms it had taken.
A month or two ago, Beth Moore talked about a predisposition of hers that the Lord had finally put to death violently, using scripture. I was so intrigued by this description, I almost wrote to ask what it had entailed, but I didn't.
Revealing my rebellion to me has been one of the Lord's projects for a while. It wasn't until a few weeks ago that He gave me a personal demonstration of how handy He is with a two-edged sword. Here's what He said (but using scripture):
"You can keep struggling against Me if you want to. By doing so, you're preventing Me from helping you. Your call."
That was the death blow. Since then, He's added two or three pointed scriptural postscripts. I finally get what He's been trying to tell me for decades.
One of the scriptural weapons He used was Psalm 107. It happened on a chilly day a couple of weeks ago. I was sitting in a park, in my car. I'd read Psalm 107 number of times previously, but up to that point it had never turned into a sword. That day in the park, it said this:
"My people kept rebelling, then crying out to Me for rescue. I would come to their aid. Then they'd do something else rebellious. Same process again, over and over. Finally, I called up a deadly storm. They were terrified, and cried out to Me again. I rescued them. They became calm; I escorted them peacefully to their destination."
I can't remember whether I cried when I read this. But I was grateful. With His people, the Lord only uses His sword to heal.
When the Lord says, "Cease striving and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10), He doesn't just mean, "Be calm and wait for My timing." Nor does He only mean, "Stop trying to impress Me." He also means, "Stop preventing Me from accomplishing My will in your life. Stop fighting Me."
He doesn't lose if we fight Him. We do.
To end on a healing note, here's a lovely choral version of Psalm 107:23-31. It's sung by a Scottish choir, the Highland Harmony Singers. I hope it helps bring you calm.
Highland Harmony Singers
Psalm 107
(from Psalm Singing Online)