“Sometimes I wonder what would happen, if I opened up myself to the world, and told them the truth. And told them of my journey, and invited them, on that journey.”
These were some of the thoughts that stained my journal page the past few months.
The blog had been ‘suspended’ for the past two years. Too much to deal with, too much to hide from, too much to sift thru. But a difficult conversation at midnight opened my heart to the dare of vulnerability. I know that vulnerability with a friend is one thing, but vulnerability with the world, that is much, much more to ask, much more to bare.
But bare it, I will.
Because what I value in life, what I cherish most about people, is truth. The people who ask the hard questions, but can admit, they do not really have the answers yet- if, ever. The people with eyes weary, battle scars, minds searching at night. People who have a foundation built on personal revelation and truth. People that dare to ask, dare to seek, and even more, dare to keep seeking, when the answers do not come. People, with tender hands, sensitive hearts, and a genuine desire to know. People who have suffered, and know suffering. People who have learned to live with their stories.
Possibly, it can all be summed up in the rare characteristic of being ‘raw’.
I am one of those people, I am ‘raw’. And I cannot hide it, I tried, but I cannot.
So I will be honest with you, that the rare characteristic I search for in people, I have not been fully giving. That the hours I read people’s stories, and poems, and essays, and memoirs; I hide my own. And I am sorry, for hiding. I am sorry, for not sharing my journey, the struggle. The dearest secret that has been held closest to my lungs, is that I have been searching for truth, because I will admit, that right now, I am not quite sure what ‘truth’ is. That in all ways poetic, I have been fervently searching for a glimpse of ‘holiness’ or something God-like in this world or beyond it. That I have prayed, and listened, and talked, and meditated, and been silent, and asked, and cried, and yelled, and screamed, and wept, over this- this discontent inside of me. This discontent of normal life, and schedules, and everyday ‘sha-bangs’, that I am quite convinced there must be more. I hold unto the words of my admired author C.S. Lewis when he says, “If I find within myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.”
And my biggest fear, that I battled out with my dear loved one, is what will people think of me. People who think they know me, but really, do not. People who have no idea. What well they say. Worrying about the people who are going to pull the ‘Christian church card’ on me, you know, how they throw the scripture at you, like a blanket, but really, it’s not like a blanket at all, it’s like a thorn, a sting.
And I could go on and on about all the ‘things’ that I am afraid of if I choose to share my faith struggle with the world. But as I was having a mini hyperventilating attack thinking about ‘things’, I thought about the one person, who may be just like me, searching at night while the city sleeps, searching the world to find another soul who is going, or who has been through, the same struggle- the logic vs faith, truth vs religion struggle. Thinking about this one person, gave me all the reasons, and all the courage, to stop hiding it all in my journal and in my conversations with close friends, and to now share it with the world.
Because maybe you need to hear this. Or, maybe you need to know, that you are not alone, that I am searching too. Although, sometimes, it feels quite more like wandering.
“I once had a floor, but the floor was ripped up from under my feet while sleeping.
I spent a year, searching for that floor, piece by piece; only to discover, that the floor was not able to carry me anymore.
So, now I am searching for a new one, a piece by a piece.
This is one piece, welcome…”