Taking the Brakes Off
I have been writing pages and pages by hand in my latest bound journals lately, all the while shying away from this keyboard. Actually, “shying,” isn’t a strong enough image for the emotion I’ve felt. It’s been more like abhorrence or aversion or even terror.
I want to say it’s because of how wonky my eyesight is getting because it is (getting wonky). But that’s not true. My eyesight is sufficient for my needs.
I want to blame it on “the-one-right-way” God who I apparently still conjure up, despite the fact that I know without a doubt that such a God is not the God of my heart and my dreams. The God I met when I came to “my Jesus,” nearly 30 years ago is a God I know by the power of His everlasting words of unwavering comfort and counsel, kindness and generosity. Over the decades since I first turned to Him with every bit of pride crushed out of me, I have found Him to be willing to meet me wherever and however I need to meet Him, on the record or off, digital or scribed, reverent or rude, hysterical or numb. If I will reach out to Him in any way or form, He’s thrilled.
Over the decades since I first turned to Him with every bit of pride crushed out of me, I have found Him to be willing to meet me wherever and however I need to meet Him, on the record or off, digital or scribed, reverent or rude, hysterical or numb. If I will reach out to Him in any way or form, He’s thrilled.
I guess it’s like the hymn puts it:
Prayer is the soul’s sincere desire
Uttered or unexpressed.
The motion of a hidden fire
That trembles in the breast.
(James Montgomery, LDS Hymnal, #145
So, here I am, at the keyboard, trembling as I type my way (praying it is His way for me) into the unknown, afraid that my whole, unvarnished truth is going to pour out too fast this way. But maybe, if I stop and fix every little wrong keystroke, like tapping the brakes often as I inch forward, I can learn to trust the Lord’s goodness.
After all, He got me up and then back down Pike’s Peak a “few” years back and in such good order that I even got a sticker for my car’s brakes being cool enough to touch–or at least for being intact.
Typing these thoughts on this computer is at least a little more “out there” than writing in my sequestered, cloistered bound journal pages.
And if I post this up on my “Confessions of a Mormon Mystic,” it will really be outing myself.
Someone once told me, “Colleen, you’re so spiritually-minded, you’re no earthly good.” I’m not sure if they were aware of how spot-on they were.
So, I might as well return to my “Confessions” blog and to my deepest, truest, sincerest, most honest self.
Remember Nemo’s dad in “Finding Nemo,” how he goes in and out, in and out, of the Sea Anemone? That’s a perfect image of me wrestling with coming out and telling my whole truth, my deepest, truest truth.
Am I repeating myself? I think so.
I think it’s time to take the brakes off and trust the Truth to teach me to fly (again).
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