It’s the deepest, darkest lie my soul carries. The triggers are fewer and farther between helping me know progress has been made. But when they happen, coming out of left field from a distant ballpark, I’m stunned by the collision.
It’s a tiny little box with a stereotype in it. There was nothing of myself that fit in the tiny little box so I ran like a bat outta hell from it. You see I was (and still am at times) convinced – thoroughly and completely convinced – that the stereotype is the arrival station of Christianity. Ultimately this is where Jesus will walk you to and everyone else points you in that direction. There’s no getting away from it. You just have to accept it and live there – in the tiny box of conformity and conservativeness.
The funny thing about running from something is you can deny it by the very fact of your running. Don’t you dare stand still, it will find you and wrap you up in its chains. So, in coming back to Christ the thought is there somewhere in my soul that tells me this is where He will be taking me - to live in the tiny box of legalism and self-righteousness.
Five and half years of walking with Him has been spent unlearning, relearning, crying, but laughter too, there is laughter in hope! The journey continues to lift the layers and last week I was reminded of this tiny little box and I become angry when I’m reminded.
You see the false truth I have believed about myself for as long as I can remember is that I am wrong. Period. There is nothing I can do or say to change it.
If you live in the box, you’re right.
If you live outside the box, you’re wrong.
End of story.
If I’m being honest I’d have to say that I despise the box. Despise is putting it lightly.
I’m so sick and effing tired of that angry place. I lived there for nearly 30 years. It’s a convoluted place where God and Jesus and church and the Bible meet me in all of my wrongness. I speak from that angry place. I defend from that angry place. So many, oh dear God, so many people have misunderstood this place and leveled me with their judgements and criticisms and gracelessness. Coming across someone who reveals this God I’m daring to believe exists in Christ is uncommon and that’s sad.
Though I will say that a long-distance friend called me this weekend after I sent her a 911 text. We talked. We laughed. We shared our stories of limping through and we extended grace to one another in our ailments – what a complete joy! I’ve still got some unlearning to do and even when the triggers bombard me and drag me through the crap…..I still refuse to become any part of that tiny little box of little love and little grace. So iffin ya need me, I’ll be living outside the box. Holler and I’ll come running for ya!