Tonight I find myself not really wanting to write. It’s been a hard day. My heart really didn’t do well and I had multiple episodes. I’m discouraged.
I keep reading David’s Psalm from the cave. “When my spirit grows faint within me, it is you who know my way. In the path where I walk men have hidden a snare for me”
The path I walk…the path I have walked for decades has been to apologize, to hide to get frustrated. I would share a little with people but then push them away. I was testing people to see if I was worth the effort. I always thought I was worth a little effort, but not a lot of effort.
My dad would yell at an umpire for a bad call made on me playing baseball, but there were some times where I needed real protection…and he declined. Maybe I was worth a little effort, but not a lot.
And so the path I walked for all those years was one of apologies, testing, loneliness, frustration. I carried secrets no young man should carry. And in those secrets, in the darkness of the cave, a narrative was formed. Share a little to show good leadership but always tie it up in a nice bow and the bow’s name…inspiration. But don’t share a lot because you aren’t worth a lot of effort, only a little.
Today I required some effort. And because I developed the narrative after all those years, it became my voice in my head. Therefore, to change the narrative, it is my voice I have to start with.
While the effort I gave myself today may seem small…it was actually quite big. I required the effort of rest…without apology. And so I did. I rested. I didn’t like it. I quite dislike it frankly. I don’t want to rest on a nice day, I want to be out, enjoying the beautiful weather and having fun and mocking people wearing masks while alone in their car. I don’t want to lie down. I don’t want to feel faint.
But it’s not MY path to determine. “When my spirit grows faint…it is YOU who know my way”. My path has led me to nearly the edge of a cliff. His path leads to freedom from this prison.
When I was 16 I got caught. 3 felonies. I was in jail for maybe an hour. Just a short time. For all I know it was just to scare me…I’d bet it was. And it worked. No words to describe the discouragement and loneliness. And then…my dad got me out. He freed me. And I went home.
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