Where to start when I have been a hermit for so long? Also, I realize writing a blog post does little to reform my hermit status. It merely makes me a sporadically blogging hermit. Which is possibly more disturbing than the sum of its parts. Life and its myriad hand grenades have me retreating into my suburban cave without my noticing the extent of the retreat. I was tipped off to the seriousness of my hermitage when an audio book I had purchased on Audible concluded with the author’s thanks to various people who had made her work possible. And I felt a surge of jealousy. They were all authors that I love. I was mad that they had been hanging out without me.
Ok. Ok. I see a therapist. I’ll bring it up. Like none of you have thought anything so disturbing.
Which brings me to what my heart is bleeding to let out. What my soul has been learning and my mouth does not know how to say.
There is room for me. My humanity is not too complicated to be sustained by Love. The scars I have do not disqualify my belonging.
The vastness of Truth has got to be bigger than my doubts and my questions. I cannot believe that I can dethrone God by wondering if everything I have believed, been taught to believe, is a fabrication. I cannot imagine that the One who holds all things together is given to fits of insecurity when I deconstruct, again and again, things I had never thought to question.
It is a lonely road, to be sure, this uneven journey of discovery. It has little to mark it as a path when the truths that once lit my way have been dulled by disaster, pain, and tragedy. When the roadmap I hold up for guidance is in tatters and is no longer the sure thing I once took for granted. When everything outside me is a weight of uncertainty that threatens to suffocate the breath from my lungs. When, in an attempt to beat the hell out of me, someone else’s proclaimed truths also beat the heaven out of me.
Truth has got to be bigger than that. Love has got to be stronger than that. It has to have room for my doubt, my questions, my reality, my humanity. Otherwise, what good is it?
I am made in the image of Love. Surely a little messiness doesn’t scare Him. A lot of messiness doesn’t scare him either. The truth I need to know isn’t out there, ever in danger of flight. It’s not an elusive, ethereal something always slipping from my grasp, always on the verge of evacuating my doubting heart.
If I belong to Love, if Love holds all together, if I am made in Love’s image, than Love is not frightened by my growth. Love welcomes the evolution. Love cheers in pride for me as I take my first tottering steps of liberation from fear.
My truth in this season is that I miss trusting fear. Fear protected me from so much. At least that’s what I’m mostly sure of.
But there is no fear in love. So I am learning how to step out of fear and take Love’s hand. Love says, “I am already in you. You need not fear.”
So what if I mess up? So what if I get it wrong sometimes? So what if not being afraid makes me do things that are not what is expected of me? So what if I don’t color in the lines?
I am made in the image of Love. Truth is not shaken by doubt.
If the proof that I am in Love are the fruits of Love in my life, than I say bring it on. Because I see Love in myself. I am seeing Love in the faces of others. Joy and peace are more characteristic of my life than before. I am learning patience and kindness, first with myself, and then others. And autonomy. That sense that I belong only to Love and Love to me.
That the masterpiece of me is exactly what Love wants to see.