Changed. Healed. Freed. Saved.I lay here becoming increasingly frustrated with the English language for not having words adequate enough to describe this “thing” that has happened to me. Rather, happened “in” me.
Words…
Meaningless in and of themselves, yet carrying incredible weight have the ability to stir souls, provoke passions, judge, convict, condemn, redeem, release, cure, take life and give it back again.
So.
I find myself in a somewhat paradoxical situation.
For although I am angry at these words which do not exist (or perhaps at myself for my inability to think of them), my heart is combusting with joyful gratitude for the incredible, almost mystic power of words.
Yes, my heart is set aflame, burning desperately day and night with so many emotions, so many passions searching for a way of escape so that this “thing” that has changed-healed-freed-saved me might spread like a vicious cancer, infecting hearts, eating away at sin and death, allowing a Life previously unknown to grow, mature, bloom, then flourish and invade.
A paradox.
Angry at the thing that has given me joy. Frustrated with what has bestowed such peace. Now I find words to be useless, for they are incredibly limited, and do not accomplish what I desire of them.
And still…
I place on them an immeasurable value, for it was words, spoken to me, that caused this indescribable thing to happen in me.
Three.
Three words, and I was catapulted into a new existence.
I no longer recognized myself, and yet I was finally seeing myself…understanding myself.
And though I was now just coming to know myself, I must admit that I had known myself all along.
And this “familiar” self, who was the most real thing I had ever known, entered into the real world.
And when the real me entered into reality, I soon learned that this real me was more real than the reality it entered into.
One. Two. Three words.
I had no idea that so much could happen because of three words.
What was it about these words?
Now, as I reflect upon that night when that union of consonants and vowels pierced the drum of my ear, I understand that the words themselves were not the force that caused this eruption within my being.
For words are meaningless.
Consonants. Vowels. Syllables. Sounds. Noise. Relative and subject to the hearer, for it is he who gives value and worth to the word. And still, he who speaks the word affects the hearer and a great responsibility rests upon him. For he may choose to speak from deception, falsehoods, facades and lies. He may choose to speak pleasant fantasies that tickle the ear and “warm” the heart.
Or he may choose to speak in truth and honesty the reality that is.
These days everyone wants reality.
Reality TV. Real Life Drama. Unpredictable. Unscripted. Unrehearsed.
Everyone wants to be “real.” We want friends that are real. We want relationships that are real.
Real. Real. Real. Real. REAL.
We throw the word around like pocket change, and then almost miraculously forget its definition, suit up, and step onto stage.
…because reality has an alluring sound to it, but the truth is that it’s not as handsome, attractive, or glamorous as the enchanting fantasies we create.
So we’ve become accustomed to “reality TV” reality. We’ve somehow deceived ourselves; thinking it to be real, when it’s about as authentic as entertainment wrestling. Or, perhaps we are not deceived, but knowing that it is false, we choose to live in this “fake-real” world.
Yes.
I lived in this world. For years I lived there, content to stay and desperate to leave. I played the part. Professing to be real, all the while knowing the words escaping my lips were scripted lies.
A Fraud. Fake. Phony.
Half-truths and whole-lies were my native language. Going out of my way to be “open” and “honest” with the ones I love, so that they would have no suspicion that I was playing a role; that the person they knew was a lie.
The funny thing about lies;
You tell them well enough, long enough…you start to believe them.
So I lived this lie.
Believing it to be true, and knowing it to be false.
I spoke this lie.
My tongue was not accustomed to the taste of truth.
Lie. Lie. Lie. All to cover up the filth, sin, mess that lives within me.
Lie again to hide the cursed abomination that I am.
A lying tongue and a haughty spirit is what I had become… and I was unaware that this was the true abomination.
Concealing my true identity. Deceiving the ones I “love and trust.”
For what? [To protect my pride.]
To avoid the shame and guilt, all the while encouraging it by keeping it in the dark.
{Strange how we do that.}
So I lived my life loving what I hate.
Being what I refused to be.
Dying in my humanity.
Dead in the dark.
Until I met Truth.
He was … Pure. Gentle. Defiled. Harsh. Attractive. Appalling. Comforting. Frightening. Refreshing.
We spent the evening together laughing, fighting, crying – as we uncovered the hidden mysteries inside of me. We did this for hours and hours and did not quit until the early hours of the morning.
We did this until I died.
We did this until I came alive.
And just before the sun rose, I closed my eyes and drifted away, unaware that what I had encountered that night would thenceforth have much power over me.
I’ve spent much time since that night trying to understand. Trying to unravel. Trying to piece together what actually took place. Whatever it was… it’s much different than anything I would have ever expected. What happened to me? What happened in me? What did Truth do to me?
Now I understand.
That night, Truth injected me with his disease.
It’s called Life.
It has taken over my body, my heart, my soul, my mind, my spirit, my will, my strength, my essence.
I have been seized, usurped, commandeered.
I have become an animal acting out of instinct.
I am obsessed-possessed-consumed-plagued-tormented-haunted by this…beauty.
I find myself losing control, unable to contain this…thing…this joy…this Life that now lives in me.
This is my story.
And though these words fall short once again, I rest knowing that the fruits of this lay not in the words, but in the hands Truth and Life. In the heart of Light and Love.
What else can I say? I’ve been infected with Life.
Quite simply:
I’m Alive.
