Yesterday I was talking to an entertainment lawyer about a project, trying to squeeze every bit of information I could out of him because I was afraid to move forward.
"But what if...how do we know that...ok but..."
I was and am afraid because it's a new area for me. What if I got screwed over? What if the project doesn't come out in a way I like? What do you mean I can't control every aspect of everything?
At some point, he sensed my neurosis and said, "It's going to require a leap of faith."
That's what did it for me. I'd done my due diligence. Now I just had to jump.
Did I mention I have trust issues?
I started writing down my conversations with God lately. Yes, we have them. It's not special. I'm rude, childish and accusatory because I figure He knows everything in my heart anyway so I may as well just say it and get some answers. I love God, pease don't get me wrong. I just need answers. I guess the theme for my week (month? year? entire life) is fear and trust, because that's what we talked about. If this idea makes you uncomfortable, you can always just think I'm crazy.
Anyway, this is how it went.
We were discussing a situation where I was working hard to forgive a person who had deeply offended me and I realized that I forgave them a long time ago. I know that humans are fallible. I'm fallible. It was God I was holding a grudge against.
Voice (How do I describe the sound. Like a still and gently moving soft, warm, sweet breeze that is self-contained and calm):
Why don't you trust me?
Me: Because I wasn't protected. (By you).
*I thought of all of the situations that scarred me in life*
Voice: I exposed your wounds to the light to heal them. Does a surgeon work in darkness? I don't need Light to see, but you do. You needed to see what hurt, so I, the Doctor, could tell you why. Healing is not always pain free. Pain is not always a sign that something is wrong.
*I saw a picture in my mind's eye of a man with a broken let in a cast grimacing as he moved off of a bed. Healing was taking place but it still hurts*
Me: And prolonged pain?
Voice: Is caused by holding on to it.
Me: Why would I hold on to it?
Voice: You tell me
Me: Because if I let go, it will just come back again anyway. At least this way I can control it.
Voice: How is the control going?
Me: Badly. How do I let go?
Voice: That's the best question yet. Let go by trusting the One you're letting go to.
Me: HOW *wanting a detailed instructional manual with in-color photos and instructional video*
Voice: Healing takes place in the mind before the heart.
Voice: Because the mind makes decisions. Every second and half second.
Me: And the heart doesn't?
Voice: Couldn't if it tried. The heart reflects the state of the soul. It is for you to know where you stand- in Light with me or in the shadow of Light behind a lie.
Me; What lies?
Voice: You tell me.
Me: That you fail to, or decide not to protect me.
Voice: Who told you that?
Me: thinking: *You ask a lot of questions you know the answer to*
My mind tells me.
Voice: Someone else told your mind and the thought took root because of the state of your heart which reflects where you stand in terms of your soul; the only part of you that is you.
Me: How do I fix these lies?
Voice: By wanting to. And you do not.
Me *offended* Why?
Voice: You tell me
Me: *suddenly very tired and a bit sad* Because I'm afraid they're true.
Voice: And if they are?
Me: Then You're not who You say You are.
Voice: *echoing my next thought* And I'm a liar.
*In my mind's eye I see Eve and Adam in the garden being told by the serpent that God lied to them, that the fruit was good. The lie takes form, wriggles into their minds like a snake and burrows in deeply. A seed is planted. The image is surprisingly heartbreaking because neither of them had any idea what would happen and what they were giving up by believing it*
Voice: Do you know how you kill a lie?
Voice: Starve it. Lies need attention to live. Starve it. When you act on a lie, you feed it, giving it power. Starve it of yourself. It needs you to live. Without you, a lie cannot fulfill its purpose and it dies.
Me: What's the purpose of lies? *I don't know why I ask that question*
Voice: To kill
Voices: To kill. Lies want as many human lives as it/they can eat. They desire death.
Me: *a little afraid by this drastic and dark turn* How?
Voice: You've seen it and lived it.
*Shown starving, emaciated bodies in barracks in the holocaust, men with hollow sunk in eyes staring*
Voice: The lies didn't start by building ovens. They started in kitchens, workplace chatter, yards, parks- benign places and took root like mold.
Me: *a bit angry* And You let it.
Voice: Did I?
Voice: *stern and with a voice like a stern windstorm* Did I do nothing? Have you read the file on the miracles I performed on empty roads and in death camps?
Me: Millions died.
Voice: And millions were saved by My hand.
Me: If you didn't protect them, how can I expect you to protect me?
*I needed to ask. This has been my question for awhile*
Voice: Do you know how many times I've protected you? Pain is part of this world.
*In that moment my mind flashed many scenes, none of them clear, but I was aware that all of them were scenarios in which I'd been saved from outside circumstances and the consequences of my own behaviors. I'm aware of a grace that has been present my entire life, a thick and generous blanket of it and feel ungrateful and grateful at the same time.*
If that grace is with me, I believe it's with all of us. It doesn't mean everything in life is pretty and easy. It works as a net to catch things, shield us, from dangers we never knew about.
I'm trying very hard to listen and starve the lies and make decisions from a place of truth and trust only in the One who breathed life into me. My first instinct is always to either believe the lies or try to attack them with truth, but it's true...either way I'm engaging and they seem to feed off of my attention. Lies don't seem to even care if they're believed, just that they're played with until I'm exhausted from defending myself and one slips past my gate of debate and plants a weed in my garden.
My eyes like to look down at the choppy waters, but I can decide to lift them and take rest in the heart of God who I know loves me. I snuggle in there like it's a huge duvet. In that place, I'm always a child, always held, always snuggled to sleep. All I have to do is let go.