Gold with fire

I love sleeping in on Sundays.
But today I couldn’t shake the nudge at 6:03am to get up and pray, and then get upright and write.

I haven’t really written in months, but I could feel this one building for weeks. I don’t know who needs to hear this, but I prayed for you today, too.

I have a favorite author named Hannah that said, “Fear wakes us up. Fear reminds us to fight. It’s only when we know fear that we ever understand the depth of our need for its opposite — love. Real love. Hard, rich, durable love.”

For me, that comment makes the most sense when I swap out the word ‘fear’ for ‘anxiety’.

For some, it might be ‘depression’, or ‘worry’. When a friend tells me they’re facing an abundance of any of those words, I usually tell them that the darkness we all face has a purpose, that “sadness” or “anxiety” exists to teach us, to take us to our most vulnerable, to take us to our knees so that we learn to stand on our own again, and to remind us that light exists.

I explain my anxiety as a sandwich of senseless fear and worry, most often mine is built like a club sandwich. Lots of layers, extra bacon, a side of something else as unsubstantial and unnuttritious; at my worst, anxiety harnesses my mind and holds it captive. It creates scenarios that are so believable that I once convinced myself I had tetanus. So thoroughly in fact, that my legs started to hurt and my jaw got sore just like Google said they would, and I got violently ill. It was an outstanding realization that our minds are that powerful, that we’re being held captive by our darkness. Can you imagine if I was that captivated by light, instead?

For me, my darkness is comfortable. I like to entertain anxiety and let it label me, I like to talk about it because it’s relatable. I put it on every morning like my favorite shoes and walk out the door and let it help me make decisions. I make fun of it, I take it to dinner, I buy it dessert. I let it hold me back, I let it dominate my relationships, I let it damn near drown me in its lies and creativity, and I go to bed at night needing heavier blankets or somebody holding me, I bend to the needs of anxiety….instead of choosing light.

Light is faith. Light is love. Light is forgiveness and grace. Light shows up in the people we love most, light shows up when you recognize that you don’t find a home, you build it, that you don’t find love, you choose it, that you don’t choose happiness, you create it. None of things are designed to be difficult, but they are an endurance challenge.

Tim Keller said, “If you believe in Jesus and rest in Him, then suffering will relate to your character like fire relates to gold.” We look at our darkness (fear, worry, anxiety, depression) hoping it will keep us safe; we hate to recognize that it could be good for us, that it could be a temporary necessity; we want the gold without the fire.

Last night, when we were walking through something called, “Pumpkin Nights”, each room had its own Spirit of Halloween. My favorite one, pictured here, was the Spirit of Light. The sign at the entrance read, “This spirit is born from the LIGHT in each of us. It’s goal is to illuminate the world and spread joy and positivity to places that have been long dark and hopeless. Darkness cannot exist in the presence of light, it is only the absence of something real.”

You guys, for all of the darkness you have in you, for all of those hard things you’re going through, for your broken relationships, your unknown future, your grief and heartbreak, you have just as much light. You have to see that real hard love only exists because of the darkness it commits to shine out.

If there’s something specific I can pray for, please comment.