A: From Safe into the Mystery

In silence my dream vanished. The safety and hope of my glossy future disappeared like the make-believe it was, and I possessed nothing to bring it to life. I was empty-handed as ever.

Faithfully, I opened my eyes to reality, to my pathetic room in a sloppy old mansion. “Why had I settled here?” I wondered. The only sign of hope was the light which beamed through the thin window at the far corner of the room. The brightness covered the dark, but only where it could. Still, the glow was warm and invited me onward. 

For a beat, I thought about going back to my dream, a return to the shelter of my fantasies. However, on this day, the light seemed too pure to ignore. And as I gazed upon it, I became aware of a sweet aroma leaking through the walls. In combination with the light, they were too much to spurn. 

My courage rising, I reviewed what I knew about the bright light, sweet scent, and all Mystery beyond this broken place. In my youth I dared touch it. I dared to believe I could move beyond my need for dreams and comfort. I dared to join my place in Creation. 

I gave my dreams one more consideration, how perfect they seemed. Then the reality of the tiny room began to speak. “Those dreams are not where you live, they are where you escape. How long will you hide in this room? Dreaming dreams, but never living life?”

“But Lord, what if I fail at being me?” 

“Come with Me, and I will carry you into the future.”

After years of dreaming, the decision made itself. Slowly I swung my feet to the floor, and staggered through the door. My weary legs, acting on their own accord, led me down the hallway. On either side I saw tiny room after tiny room. Like my tiny room, no doors. Like mine, each one filled with a single person. 

In some were people dreaming like me, forever focused on the future. Their smiling faces disconnected from their wretched decaying bodies.

On I went until I passed a respectable looking young woman, alone in her chair, facing the door. As I shuffled past, she yelled, “The fuck do you think you’re doing? There’s nothing out there. GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM!”

I didn’t stop to contemplate her words. I couldn’t. My mind was set to give my heart the breath it needed. 

Near the end of the hall I heard the cries of those terrorized by the night. They begged for relief, yet when help came they rolled over to start again. Back to the horrors. Among the voices I heard her, the voice of my sister. I raced to her room. From the doorway I screamed, “Wake up!! JOIN ME!” Tears fell from my face, as I wailed in vain. She didn’t hear me. She couldn’t. 

Sadly, I found the staircase leading away from this hall of pain. I stopped for a moment, a thousand miserable voices behind me. On cue the One small voice whispered, “Trust Me.” 

Without delay, down the steps and onto the front porch I ran. The light was bright on my face, the scent of the outside air sweeter than ever. I shielded my eyes until they adjusted to the new. As they focused I stood in shock by what I saw. 

From the thin window in my tiny room I never quite knew what lay beyond, but now I stood face to face with a thick, misty fog. And though I felt it beckon me onward, panic wrapped my heart. 

“Lord, what is this? This isn’t a plan. Where do I go? What do I do?”

“Come into the mist. Grab my hand. Let Me lead.”

“Trust Me.” 

“Lord, I’m afraid. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Trust Me.”

And not wanting to go back, not to the tiny room, to the unfilled dreams, and hopeless hopes. I tripped forward. The sloppy fear at my back no longer dreaming, I marched into the unknown. Off the porch into the great Mystery I slipped, my hand in His. 

Fearing Fear

I should title the last week of posts “Facing Fear Week,” as it is the theme of my of my recent life. It’s a season that began in May, when a young friend sent me a prophetic message. In it he wrote, “you are holding an emotion, something you’ve never released to the Lord. And you need to let it out.” 

It’s odd he said emotion. We base our feelings stem from one of four emotions: happiness, sadness, anger, and fear. I knew the first three. I knew I could express the varied forms of happiness to the Lord. I had no problem being sad and heart broken. And, I am so comfortable venting anger with Jesus it could scare the average person. But fear? What I called “being afraid?” That was new. 

I fell to my knees that day back in May and cried out, “I’m afraid. I’m scared. And I’m tired of it. I can’t carry all of this. Take it from me.” Suddenly and dramatically, I saw the role fear played in my life, how it influenced my decisions and tuned my motivations. Turns out, I was afraid of a great many things personal and external. 

Before I continue I want to add, fear did not influence every aspect of my life and decision making. This is not an all or nothing situation. I’ve made many decisions out of expectant faith. I wouldn’t be here without them. But, 2020 was the year He prepared me to see the broader truth (as much as I can.) 

The last two days cynical thoughts were planted in my brain: What are you gonna do with your next big disappointment? This life of joy and growth won’t last forever. You’ll just slide back into your indulgent routines and patterns. You’re only doing this so she notices. That’s what happens in a break up. Remember Lee? Yeah. That’s you. You’re just trying to prove yourself all over again.

Thing is….that’s all f-cking bullsh-t. It’s not true. None of it. Do I want her to notice me? Yes. I can admit such a desire. And…she already has. So? Now what? Now, I just keeping living my best life, because I want to love and enjoy the life Jesus gave me. This (my renewed love of Jesus and pursuit of Him) isn’t about her. My learning to love myself, and subsequent path back to physical health…isn’t about her. My foray into my artistic heart isn’t about her. And this blog isn’t about her. 

What do I with in my next big disappointment? Same f-cking thing I did with the last big disappointment. Run to Jesus. Refuse to allow the disappointment to define me or taint my faith, and lean on my powerful community. 

This life of joy and growth won’t last forever. Jesus is my source of Joy. And He will last forever. Suck on that, liar. 

You’ll just slide back into your indulgent routines and patterns. Not a chance. Not this time. I love me. The transition is real. No going back. 

I will not live in fear of fear. Moreover, I will stop projecting reactions- crucial for me. For example, yesterday I texted her “Hey, I love and appreciate you. Thanks for being my friend.” Took me two weeks to send that text. Why? Because I was worried about the consequences. I tried to think of all the ways it could go wrong or be misinterpreted. Once I let go of attempts to control the outcome, I pressed send.

 I know my heart, my motivations. I just wanted to affirm my love for someone I care about. I didn’t have expectations or a secret agenda. 

Fear is a nasty bastard, and by the grace and favor of the Lord our God, I’m gonna beat the sh-t out it. 

Unexpected Delight, and Fight

Last night I attended a birthday part for a new friend. As I wrote yesterday, she was there too. In all honesty, the whole event went about as well as I could’ve hoped, limit awkwardness and sense of forward movement- for me. 

I allowed myself to sit and be present. Usually in social situations I’ve tried to prove myself by showcasing my intelligence or wisdom or ‘manliness’. But last night I was content to be one of the group. I have nothing to prove. 

Several moments delighted me last night, but what blew me down was her. She actually joined the group conversation, spoke openly, and expressed her views. It was awesome, and of course made her more attractive than ever. This is the person I knew she is! 

It’s a bit of a funny reversal. My previous experience with her is watching her slink into a shell, afraid to say anything or be known. And I, as mentioned above, was usually a significant part of the conversation. But last night…I was content to be mostly silent and enjoy the moment, while she easy joined the chat and brought something good to it. Amazing. I didn’t expect it. 

As I drifted off to sleep I felt an overwhelming peace at this thought: if she and I ever date again, it will be truly awesome and good. We’ve both moved toward the best version of ourselves. 

This morning I went for my usual stroll with Jesus in the park, and gone was the peace from the night before. It was replaced by insecurity and doubt. After a bit of wallowing in my despair I decided to fight the fears. 

The first fear stems from my heart’s desire to love people and pastor them (kinda hate to use the word pastor, but there it is) through the low moments of their walk with Jesus. I love to encourage others, but there’s a built-in trap. The trap is taking my self worth and value from how people receive what I say. As I prayed about this the Lord asked,”do you have truth?” Of course, I do. “And is it life giving?” Yes, it is. “Then your task is to put it out there, don’t judge the results. That’s on me.”

It was as simple reminder. I’ve got gold. It will be good for other people to have some. That’s it. 

The second fear is similar to the first. If I continue to hangout with her, I assume at some point I’ll pony up the courage to ask her out again- if she doesn’t first. The thought inspires feelings of inadequacy. Am I good enough for her? Fuck yes, I am. I’m amazing….even if I’m not good enough for her.  Again, my self worth is not tied to the approval of others or one particular woman. 

I am amazing because I exist. I am loved because I exist. And soon, I will fully function from a place of continual self confidence. Until that day, I will fight the fears and be thankful for the delights. No going back.