***
"If you bring forth what is within you,
what you bring forth will save you.
If you do not bring forth what is within you,
what you do not bring forth will destroy you."
-as attributed to Jesus Christ in The Gospel of Thomas
***
As I typed the email I felt completely at peace.
I was saying everything that I believed in my heart and knew that it must be shared to avoid miscommunication, hurt feelings, and more of the same mistakes.
I've been down this road many times and know how easily my compassionate human nature can trump the conscious voices of my past trials talking clearly in my head; the spiritually intuitive stabs at my stomach; the pain that creeps out and reminds me,
"Not like this, not again Amanda, you know better."
"Not like this, not again Amanda, you know better."
But, life is a series of tests. I must take the same one in different forms over and over until I finally pass. Then, I will get a shiny new test, designed just for me. It never ends and I am an eternal student.
Just as some of life's tests are really easy, others are equally hard, constantly tripping me up and holding me back until I finally accept the truth and see the hard-to-swallow answers.
Today I took a test. I call it a leap of faith.
By trusting in the Lord, I composed a beautiful email, full of my thoughts and truths and written from a place of love. It felt theraputic to put those feelings down into words and to read, and reread them until they completely captured the message I hoped to send.
I said a prayer, then I hit send.
My heart began to beat out of my chest and fear fell all around me, like dark walls cutting off my oxygen supply. My breathing sped up. Did I made a mistake? Where did my peace go? Questions began popping in my head and I started to continuously check my email for a reply that never came.
Oh how I wished I had just wrote it all for myself and then talked about it instead, but I always seem to leave important things out when I try it this way. And oddly enough, my deep compassion sometimes physically hinders my ability to say what I am truly feeling, for fear of hurting the feelings of the person on the receiving end.
But nevertheless, I am a writer, so instead I wrote. And I sent.
Eventually, I stop checking for the reply and start praying more instead, that the peace I felt was real and God's will should be done. My peace returns.
My heart began to beat out of my chest and fear fell all around me, like dark walls cutting off my oxygen supply. My breathing sped up. Did I made a mistake? Where did my peace go? Questions began popping in my head and I started to continuously check my email for a reply that never came.
Oh how I wished I had just wrote it all for myself and then talked about it instead, but I always seem to leave important things out when I try it this way. And oddly enough, my deep compassion sometimes physically hinders my ability to say what I am truly feeling, for fear of hurting the feelings of the person on the receiving end.
But nevertheless, I am a writer, so instead I wrote. And I sent.
Eventually, I stop checking for the reply and start praying more instead, that the peace I felt was real and God's will should be done. My peace returns.
Six hours later, I reflect on the fear and conclude it was my embodiment of doing something the wrong way for so long, that when I finally set myself free, the wrongness didn't want to be kicked out without making a mess first. By letting go of old ways, and setting a new way into motion, I could see how those failed tests were all just big grumpy messes, holding on and clinging, not willing to go without a final rumble inside.
Unfortunately for the mess, I've decided to clean house and am now keeping my eyes (and heart) open for my new test. The next level baby. One that will allow me to grow into a happier, more peaceful, more loving human being.
Today, a leap of faith taught me that God always has my back, as long as I listen and dedicate my days, experiences and relationships to Him.
Amen.
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