Why is it so easy to be afraid? What is it about life that fuels us with an insatiable lack of trust? Will I ever be able to quiet my mind from the doubts that seem ceaseless?
Maybe not this explicitly, but somewhat implicitly, these questions have been swirling around in my head for longer than I’d like to admit. I’m a thinker, I’m an analyzer, I’m creative, I desire understanding. But sometimes life doesn’t have the answers I seek. And this, my friends, is endlessly frustrating for a 23 year old that doesn’t do well with “being where you’re planted,” as the cliche (but wise) quote from someone goes. Sure, I’ll be where I’m planted, but can you tell me why I’m planted here and how long it’s gonna take for my flowers to grow? My anxiety wants to grab lunch at noon and I told my fear that we could meet for coffee beforehand. Also, I’m exhausted. So….
A few days ago, I was talking to my best friend and I told her that the only thing that has remained constant in my life this past year has been been Scripture and the Lord’s character. As soon as I said those words out loud, I sort of laughed to myself. As a believer, I felt like I should be comforted by the fact that I’d inadvertently come to the conclusion that the “the rock” upon which I’m hanging my salvation has proved itself to be tried and true in my life–and in many ways I was comforted—but I still felt unsatisfied. Why? Well, I’ve been trying to figure that out, but I think it all has something to do with pride. (I know the Bible says that the love of money is the root of all evil, but I’m in ministry, so I don’t make enough money to love it that much, but I have a surplus of pride and it’s put me through the ringer. Maybe “the love of money” is a metaphor for pride, or maybe pride is just assumed to be in everything that’s evil in some fashion? Idk. *makes mental note to look into that and blog about it later*). I’ve digressed…
Pride is so dangerous because it provides a false sense of what reality actually is. (Self) Shame does the same thing. I have this thing that I’ve been saying for a while now: “Shame is just pride that weeps.” The shame we often live in is just our pride, so devastated and overcome with grief, telling us that we’re worthless. Reality is distorted and we believe that we’re the exception to grace, to love, to forgiveness, to mercy, to good gifts. Lately, my pride has been sobbing and I’ve been letting it cry and cry and I’ve allowed myself to trust the lies my tears are holding onto. It’s easy to do that, to focus so heavily on my self that I won’t allow myself see Jesus standing boldly, brilliantly, lovingly before me saying, “It is I, do not fear. Follow Me.”
I both delight in and struggle with the truth of Scripture because of how offensive it is. My pride takes continual blows to the chest every time I open my Bible. In Luke Chapter 24 we read that Jesus has just defeated death, risen from the grave, and is walking through Jerusalem heading to a city named Emmaus. As he is walking, he runs into two men, distraught over the fact that the supposed Messiah had been crucified. It’s quite a funny and convicting passage to read because Jesus (the man who they watched die 3 days prior) is literally walking beside them and talking with them about his own death–but the men’s “eyes were kept from recognizing him” (v 16). The men ask Jesus silly questions like, “Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened here in these days?” (v18). But Jesus is patient, he listens to these men and continues to walk with them in their confusion, shame, and sadness. And then, Jesus does the unexpected: he quotes Scripture and breaks bread with these men (v25-31). Jesus uses the Word of God and a loaf of bread to reveal himself to doubting souls. Jesus, the Living Word and Bread of Heaven, meets these men exactly where they are to offend their doubts and comfort them with His presence.
Through this passage, I have found that the antidote to my weeping pride is Scripture and a good meal shared with friends. But my (self) shame doesn’t want to be comforted because comfort to self shame is offensive. Intimacy with other people exposes the pity party of loneliness I’ve been desperately trying to perfect. Dried tears in this case lead to repentance and salvation—a work that I have no place participating in, and that hurts when I want everything to revolve around me. But, through this passage I have also found that Jesus loves me too much to not offend me, walk with me, show himself in Scripture, and reveal himself through the community found in sharing a meal. I must grow where I’m planted, but the Lord has not left me to grow alone. He has planted the seed, He is doing the watering, He is providing sunlight.
So as I walk with my questions of fear, I walk with Jesus. As I walk with my shameful thoughts, I walk with Jesus. As I walk with my lack of trust, I walk with Jesus. We walk together, through Scripture, sit down at a table and break bread together. He brings me away from myself, into His presence and says, “It is I, do not fear. Follow Me.”
Thank you for the ways in which you have proven yourself to be faithful. Thank you for the assurance of Scripture. May I continue to walk with you and eat with you always, seeing you for the beautiful Savior you are.]