TRUTH
The desire for truth - something I’ve had since I was very young - yet that desire was compounded with desire for escape thereby I accepted and created illusions, falling deeper into the combined perceptions of those around me and my own internal variations of those notions. Accepting others' truths or lies rather than seeking the ugliness of what lie beneath. One day, I felt a twinge of enlightenment. Enough to start the unraveling of what I coerced myself to believe. I recognized that I was not living in truth. Not who I was made to be. Not who I knew before. I recognized that much of life that I surrounded myself in, including some friendships and day to day habits, were all just a part of the many worlds I helped to paint, just so I wouldn’t have to see the peeling walls underneath. But that twinge of enlightenment exposed a chip on the floor, a crack in the ceiling. Both so small that no one could really see them. But I did. Just enough to look and realize there were many coats of paint underneath, which caused a new desire or rekindled desire to see what lay in the raw.
“None of this is real!”, she exclaimed into her cell phone, while sitting on the stone wall in front of the Public Works building at the corner of 12th St and Broadway. She looked at the billboard across the street feeling overwhelmed by the realization and lack of clarity of what was to come. Even the billboard felt like an imaginary symbol of the collective trying to fool her into believing she lacked. She cried into the phone, asking her therapist, “Am I crazy? Delusional?”. Comforted in hearing that she was not, but frightened by the deep knowledge that she could not unsee what she saw. The crack, the chip; they woke her, but stripping the coats seemed impossible and terrifying.
She continued to use her incredible gift of imagination to try and cover the feeling of collapse, but the more she tried to hide from it, the harder she had to try to not see. It was exhausting to say the least.
Just as she started to feel swallowed up in the bubble that was one bounce away from a burst, a teacher arrived. Seemingly out of nowhere - sent to force her to look back at those vulnerabilities and encouraged her to pick away. Peel a layer every day. It was infuriating, yet invigorating. She chipped away - careful not to expose too much. Just enough to really see a little hope. Something decent might just be there. Maybe the color would be just right, if she could find it. But just as she got to the next layer - she saw dark spots; stains. It was more than she could handle and ran back to her comfortable house of cards.
It wasn't long before the wind of change blew through and knocked her cards to the ground. She lie there in a pile of Kings and Queens and 2s, on her knees, shivering, naked, exposed. Nowhere to hide - forced to face the truth, even though the truth seemed written in a foreign tongue.
One by one, she removed the paintbrush, the paint, the roller, all the tools that enabled her concealment. She found others that would help her understand humility. And that desire for truth reappeared with a ferocious appetite. She was taught steps to ground her and given new excavation tools. Providing just the right mixture for not only exposure to those bottom layers, but protection and a safe place to turn without covering it all back up or hiding. All the while she gained truth - she yearned for more truth. It was insatiable. The more she saw the more she needed to see. Then just as she reached a new peak, another level, something unimaginable emerged. A light that felt familiar yet old, burned near her. She needed to see it closer. There was no other choice but to go towards it. Little did she know the thousand deaths she’d have to experience - so she leaned in.
Under the guise of fact, she was fed from a dish of truth with fabrication carefully blended in. Her heart was positioned for verity and for connection in a way she’d never felt before. Despite the prevarication, she pursued, knowing that what was real would be revealed. The experiences with her maker were more than personal. They were intentional and they were meant for her to know they were from Him. She cried in the reverence of it all. For the first time in her life, she could speak of Him in ways that seemed effortless. Her hunger to learn more was tenfold.
The evil from her teachers crept to the surface making it harder and harder to stay. But she had seen the works of God and she couldn’t understand how the teachers were evil if God was around. She knew it was Him so how could they be bad? Without answers she remained in the mix of good and evil. Scared to death at times, visualizing the most horrifying scenes, all while the teachers used confusion and exhaustion to keep her at bay. Eventually - the truth was revealed - just as she knew it would be. And for the first time, she saw His hand in everything. She saw where He tried to warn her, where He saved her, where He guided her. She saw how He used their bad and turned it into something good for her. A way to connect with her. But then she saw shame. Not from Him, but from that exposed wall. She had to face that shame and learn how to accept her failure to see it was not a failure at all. It was a gift.
Blindness led her to sight.
The step that came next was forgiveness. She didn’t know any humans she could trust, but she knew that she could trust Him. So she prayed even when she wasn’t sure she believed the prayer was going to anyone - prayed that He would tell her what to do and where to go. She prayed she’d only ‘hear’ what He wanted her to hear. One day, she heard to go home. She felt it all the way in her stomach. A sense of relief washed over her - the gift of knowledge was ever present. She made it home - an extended vacation she thought. She knew it the right place to be. Reground - reconnect - reroot. She found a new teacher. One He led her to. He was intentional in showing her that the teacher was the right one. God reignited her hunger. He nudged her to get more involved. He opened the space for her healing and let her fly with joy. But He didn’t stop there. He brought family along. Speaking into them - healing them too. She witnessed transformation in so many and longed for the day that she could understand enough to share with others.
The teacher safely took her under his wing. Provided her with patience and so much wisdom. He answered her many questions with grace. He delighted in sharing truth and helping her see it, understand it.
Her painted room had been scraped to raw wood at this point, but she saw something she missed before. The raw wood was…beautiful. Full of markings that kept it interesting and unique. She was back to who she was made to be. She knew there were more mountains to climb, but she could rejoice. God brought her back from the dead.
So here I am. Still desiring truth, but finally able to accept it as it comes. No need for sauce - just want it ugly or pretty, comforting or unsettling, just truth. Truly I thank God for always leading me back and pulling me out of darkness. I thank my family for the constant love and support and for allowing real connection. I thank my friends for the gift of candid relation and deep communication. I thank my teacher my spiritual father for his kind heart, patience, generosity, and most of all for telling the Truth.
Because Truth has been given as a gift, I must use what I’ve learned to bring to others. We can speak loving things every day, but love is a verb. We are called to love everyone. Every single person - including the ones who have hurt us - including the ones we think are evil. Truth isn’t always nice. Truth isn’t always something good to look at. Truth is edgy, it’s daring, and it knows where a heart is aligned. To love the ones who hurt their sheep, I will pray that truth will be revealed to them and that they find their way back to the light. To love myself, I will forgive me for all the paths I took that He had to pull me out of. I will forgive myself for my selfishness and for my lack of good judgement. I will forgive myself for not recognizing His voice when He spoke.
I will continue to seek truth. Continue to ask questions. Continue to seek connection with Him and others. This is only the beginning of my story. What’s yours?
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