“Pain has come and taught us to fear.”  ~ You do all things well, Tenth Avenue North

It has been quiet here on my blog, for quite some time.  It would be easiest and plausible to say that it was because I was so busy.  Busy doing things; you know, “life” as so many people say.  It just got in the way.

But that’s not really the truth.  Or, at least, not completely.  Sure, there were times when life got in the way; moments where things ground to a halt to deal with what was before me.

But that’s not why I haven’t written.

In January, our Bible study started looking at the idea of fear, or in the plural, fears, as an idol. As we delved in deeper to God’s Word, it became abundantly clear that I had several fears helping me decide what to do and when.

Using the power of distraction and delay, my internal dialogue went something like this:  “You don’t have the time.”  “I’ll get to that later tonight.”  When that worked, my fears started to seize control with doubts that worked like cement on my mind and hands, “What do you have to say?”  “Why would they care?  They don’t want to hear it.”  The final assault came with a full dose of apathy, “Does it really matter anyways?”

Gripped with an ever-growing sense of avoidance, I steered clear of my blog account.  It wasn’t from a lack of encouragement from others as many have told me that they love to read what I have written.  It was this growing, gnawing internal set of fears.

And so God said, “Let’s go deeper.”

Coming away from the passing of my dad, I was eager to share, eager to tell.  But as the days have now turned into months and soon, years, I have found myself grappling with the sting of my own personal loss.  In the beginning all I could see was that he was no longer suffering and while it hurt, I was happy for him that he was in heaven.  Fast forward…

Today, I see my suffering, not his anymore.   I have slowly been unpacking the harder truths of what his loss has meant to me—personally.  In the process, writing seemed too scary, too vulnerable, too exposed, too much work.  It was easier to shut it out than to risk any rejection and pain again.

Tenth Avenue North, a Christian band, has a great line in a song, “Pain has come and taught us to fear.”   I will not kid you into believing that I have never had fears until now.  I have.  But the truth of that line has repeatedly wrung out in my ears.  I see the truth in each of us almost every day.  Many people seeking to avoid and reduce their risk of pain.  Walling off those areas that have been hurt before and pursuing, eagerly, areas where risk is minimal.

Maybe it is a friendship gone wrong.  A divorce and its carnage that no one really wants to sift through. A business or job lost in the tide of the last couple of years.  A family dynamic where the only thing that exists is the habitual duty to gather together despite the underlying tone of resentment and bitterness that everyone seeks to avoid addressing.  The stories and examples go on and on.

When we feel pain, we naturally tend to avoid anything that might bring more to us.  My fears about writing became centered on the idea that doing so might bring more pain to me.  And, honestly, I didn’t want to feel any more pain.

Then God said, “Let’s continue on.  Let’s look at this.  What are your expectations?  Are they realistic?”

It is a funny thing when you ask people how they picture the Garden of Eden.  It usually stirs up images of utopia, the “perfect” place.  When I asked them to describe what they believe Eden contained, most people said “peace, truth, beauty, kindness, God,” and “only good”.  When asked whether they saw anything that they would deem “negative”, most stumbled.  Their initial response was no, but sure enough they would correct themselves with the puzzling fact that the snake was there.  But when they returned to thoughts of Eden, it still wasn’t a place where anyone would expect to find pain, lies, deceit or all that we later saw evolve.    Hmmm…

The snake was there along with temptation…in the most perfect place known to man.  What?  How can perfection contain what most of us consider imperfect?

And God said, “Go deeper.”

Not only was the snake there for all those who want to acknowledge evil as being so cunning (just got to love those who blame evil for our own choices), but there was more.  When God created the garden, He placed two trees in the center.  There for us to see, touch, feel and grab hold of.  There in the garden stood the Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.  That was something I had never pondered before.  In the garden, by God’s hand, something I wouldn’t have thought He would have chosen to allow.  A choice that would allow us to feel and see the negative if we so chose.  Well, that shattered my idea of what a perfect world contains!

And He said, “Really?  Finally.”

It was there I realized that my idea of perfection was maybe a little skewed.  That it was mine and not His.  It was based on what I wanted and not what was before me.  I have since found that I am not alone in that unrealistic expectation.  Many others have echoed a similar sentiment as I have shared what I have learned.   No wonder the pursuit of perfection frustrates so many.   To some, it becomes a catalyst for how they judge and treat others.  For others, it causes procrastination, or better put, doing nothing!  Our unrealistic idea of perfection, in essence, becomes our chains.  It binds us to our fears and moves us away from the beauty of who we were created to be and the life God created for us to live.

And so…

What if life has always been meant to contain what we don’t expect, or want, or think that we need?  Pain as well as happiness, laughter as well as sadness, tears and smiles; clean, dirty, busy, quiet, love and hatred.  The list contains it all.  Perfect and imperfect all combined into what makes our lives truly whole.

And what if life always centers around a choice?

A choice to see life for what God has created it to contain…the possibility that we will experience both good and bad.  It is not meant to be all black or white, but filled with all sorts of colors.  We can’t blame Satan that evil was in the garden; God loved us so much He put it there and gave us the choice to obey or disobey what He says is best.  He loved us so much that He didn’t intervene and remind Adam and Eve what not to do.  Yes, choices have consequences, but choice isn’t choice if we do not have the freedom to make it.

We have the choice to embrace what we deem to be imperfect by trusting that it was and is a part of His plan.  This life with its ups and downs, with its positives and negatives, in its beauty and its frightful ugliness; we will sing with joy and in sorrow.  Allowing my fears to navigate my path means I trust them more than Him.

I have known for a long time that I should be writing.

As God so readily pointed out, my fears weren’t realistic.  My idea of perfection, and much of this world’s, isn’t His.  Thankfully, it contains so much more grace and freedom than we would ever think to allow…

“God saw all that He made, and it was very good.”  ~Genesis 1:31