“I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.”
~ Hafez
Periodically, I go back to one of my friend’s Facebook pages and read that quote. It’s written as the permanent intro to the profile…
…
So much on my mind today. So many different things going on inside me.
I’ve been thinking a lot about a friend who’s struggling– chatting with my mom about it.
I’ve also been feeling what seem to be perhaps nudges that the time has come to complete my transition out of cars and… perhaps out of Arkansas.
So that’s weighing on me a bit.
As if that weren’t enough, I’ve felt the massive weight of my own pride, finding myself increasingly staring it in the face.
It’s actually a really good feeling. It’s hard, but it’s good.
I long to be free of it.
My soul hungers to be love–love–not selfishness.
I’m not down on myself, like I’m a bad person. I know I’m a good person, but there’s this sense of… what’s a good word, it’s just a quiet recognition of a difficult reality?
I chatted with one of my mom’s dear friends about it for a while in the parking lot after attending church today. Good woman, she.
Bookending that conversation, on both ends, has found me spending hours working on trying to finish a parable that I wrote over a decade ago. I wanted to be able to share it today, but it’s… not even close to being ready. 🙃
Of course, I’m significantly expanding it from what it was originally. So, maybe I should just try and find the original short little thing that I wrote and just start small. 🙃
…
Wow! That was a lot easier to find than I thought. 🙂
***
The Parable of the Cliffs
(slightly modified from the original)
Following the path that leads to perfect love is like climbing a massive mountain: Along the journey, there will likely be small valleys, gentle slopes, steep scrambles, jagged cliffs, and more.
The valleys can feel so nice, especially when they come after great efforts to scramble up steep slopes or scale sheer cliffs.
They can be a welcome reprieve.
Often times, however, rough, steep, and even sheer terrain comes when we’re already exhausted and would much rather have a valley to catch our breath.
Thus exhausted, we might come to the base of “yet another cliff,” and perhaps seeing it, we crumble in a heap. Perhaps we get discouraged. Perhaps we feel defeated. We want nothing more than to get to the top of the mountain, and we’re giving our all to get there, but that’s just it, we’ve given our all, and we’re spent. And “now this?” we lament, feeling utterly defeated…”another cliff? Here? Now?”
Perhaps our discouragement turns to anger. We yell… We throw a rock at the cliff… Perhaps a tantrum ensues:
“I hate cliffs! Come on!!! Really?!?! I’ve given everything I have!!!” we shout, our eyes hot with anger, glaring at heaven as if to challenge God Himself.
Perhaps we see ourselves react the same way we have at other cliffs we’ve come to–our feelings the same, our behaviors the same.
Then comes the little voice that mocks: “Look at you. You’re reacting the same way you always have. You haven’t changed a bit. Whining… moaning… …pathetic. You’ll never change. You might as well just give up now.”
And we look up at the cliff in shame. “Why do I try. I’ll never succeed,” we think to ourselves.
Perhaps we sit there for a while… stewing… angry… bitter… perhaps hopeless and depressed… but somewhere in the darkness of our struggle, perhaps sooner… perhaps later, we look toward heaven and softly, perhaps almost silently, we manage a few words…
“God… help me… please… I can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t.
…I can’t.
…I need you.”
And with that simple cry, we notice that a different voice has also been there–all along: A quieter but resolute voice, steady and unceasing.
“You can do it. Look at how far you’ve come. Yes, this is another cliff, and yes, you’ve reacted to it just like you did the last one, but look! you’re higher than you were last time. You’ve never come this far before. Though it seems the same, you’re in a completely different place. Look! Your view is broader, your legs are stronger, you are different, and you’ve made great progress. Keep going! You can do it… I’ll help you. I’ll be with you every step of the way. You’re worth everything to me. You’re worth any effort, and you’re worth every effort. You’ve got this. We’ve got this.”
Hearing that voice, we begin to remember the larger picture before us. Our eyes begin to see again, and we begin to feel the peace and the strength of God flow in.
With new courage, renewed determination, and increased strength, we stand. We give ourselves grace. We face the cliff. We take a deep breath. We look for a place to put our hands and feet. We offer a little prayer, and we continue upward.
***
When you feel alone, when you feel the failure, when all is dark, when your body and your mind betray you, when you’ve exhausted your last semblance of strength giving your all struggling to ascend to the highest height, when it feels as though the very mountain you are trying to conquer has folded over upon itself and crushed you into innumerable pieces, remember this: You are not alone. You are yet strong. You are a warrior. Your heart is seen, heard, known, and loved by the many who know you.
“I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.”
“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”
“Thee lift me, and I’ll lift thee, and we’ll ascend together.”
Hold on thy way.
Love to all. 🥰
Lift the world.
~ stephen
Lift the World 