I remember the day that I decided to stop being afraid. Even though it was a quiet decision, deeply held within my being, everything shifted. I try to remember what brought me to it but it remains elusive. Maybe it was a shift in tactic; from fleeing to fighting. Maybe it was a mustard seed’s worth of hope. Or maybe it was an answered prayer that I didn’t recognize at the time.
That day, I made a decision to fight my true enemy. I would go wherever I needed to go. I would do whatever I needed to do. Before, I’d been fighting against reality. I’d been running from the truth–begging for the cup to pass from me.
That day, the process of dying began for me. I died to my expectations for how my life should be. I died to trying to make myself look a certain way. I died to my will a little bit. I died to fear, telling it that it would no longer back me in a corner and I meant it.
I’ve read that dying and rising are almost a simultaneous act. I’m learning that is true. With each of my ‘small deaths’, I grew lighter. I relaxed knowing that I didn’t have to figure it out on my own. I just needed to wait for the next door to open.
Love met me in ‘all the low places.’. I was always accompanied. Following Christ crucified is probably not new to you if you love someone who suffers from an addiction. But God, hangs out in all of the low places. Jesus carved the path for us to follow.
When we trust God as we walk the road to our own personal Jerusalem, we grow closer to him. It transfigures us when we trust in the middle of our suffering. We can become the strength that our families need. We can be the hope that our friends and neighbors are looking for. We become who God called us to be.
Happy Easter to each and everyone of you. I pray that you find the strength and hope that you need. I promise it is there for the taking.