I have a confession. I did not ask for this. I did not ask for a relationship with Jesus. I never saw myself as someone who would be labeled a 'Jesus freak'. Yeah, he chose to speak to me, or at least make his presence known while I was sitting on a toilet seat waiting for my turn to brush my teeth. Spring time of 1982 when the voice of the Holy Spirit spoke to me. I was 8 years old. I am writing this book from the 'desert'. It is a "bougie" desert, that just so happens to have hot coffee, baked goods, and sparkling water but, it is still an emotional desert nonetheless. My stubbornness and boldness make me believe that I have a whole a lot of miles left to travel on this dusty and dirty journey with God as my compass and guide. I had hoped to be writing this from the comforts of The Promised Land, but I can honestly report, that the view from my laptop today is bleak, and my mouth is incredibly dry. The dry mouth might be a side effect of the Adderall, but even so, I find myself not where I expected to be or doing what I thought I would be doing, or writing about what I thought I'd be writing about. In just for months, I'll be celebrating my 50th year on this planet, yeah, here I am, still standing in the middle of a violent and relentless storm.
Writing this book has never felt like a choice. I recognize it as a kind of cognitive creation, is some kind of a vessel which might leave me out of the storm in this desert in tour where the healed and integrated life. It is an internal obligation. The words in the memories come up like the water a near-drowning victim expels after a long submergence. I sometimes still find myself gasping, wide-eyed and alarmed, remaining in "fight or flight" mode, questioning the reality I find myself in.
This memoir is an existential excavation. In inquiry into what touches on my most formative and even unconscious psychological development, tinged with wonder and mystery. And (I'll just say it) : encountering the edges of who I am, or who I might be, or might be a part of, melds into the (problematic) domains of the Spiritual or the Religious.... The language I used to describe it comes largely from the tradition which was formative for me, that being New England Christianity. Latitude and interpreting the loaded words in terms I will use from this tradition for me they are real and descriptive but of course I understand they are also not without their own inner-contradictions and problematic interpretations.
I believe in God. I firmly believe in the power of His love, of His creation, of His goodness, and without Him, I never would have found the strength to navigate the treacherous waters of my life, much less write about them. So God must be helping me to completely, profoundly transform myself, right? Turning me into someone much less of myself, but much more representative of Christ Himself...... That is, the part of me, or the part of any human, which desperately desires to be aligned with higher aspirations, empathy, grace, love.....After all, it is the essence and connection that I desire to have with God – The pursuit to become more like Jesus and dwell in the embodiment of his love that led be out of my desert, and tour were the oasis of these words I am sharing. At the very least, that is what I hope to be doing. I long to be immersed in love, even while submerged in an ocean of uncertainties, grateful for my unique perspective but cognizant my intellectual ignorance.
Gods complexity overwhelms my intricate limbic system, but His call for surrender seems both simple and bewildering. Why in the World does God think I, who at times have been a certifiable clown, could surrender? I felt as if He was trusting a clown like me to teach quantum physics but, my instead life was a stand-up routine in the making. I have been diagnosed with complex trauma and severe ADHD. I have suffered with anxiety and panic attacks and a severe case of emotional rabies. Navigating complex trauma is like having a rebellious roommate in my brain who sabotages all of my intimate relationships for fun. Forgiving those who contributed to, or stirred up the complex chaos feels like I am constantly trying to train my inner clown to stand down…… I've been on an unending quest for grace and forgiveness, even for people who probably don't deserve it. This also includes myself. Living alongside complex trauma and severe ADHD, I've unintentionally caused pain and hurt to others in my need to self protect and self rescue. I have had to ask for forgiveness and grace for my own bat shit crazy behaviors and obviously, it is much easier for me to explain away my arrogance, short comings and failures, than it is to accept forgiveness and grace from the people who were supposed to love me. I am still learning how to accept the complexities of my humanness and ignorance, while navigating these doubts about love, Grace, and forgiveness especially, when there have been moments when I have felt as if I was too much for this world, yet I must believe, I need to believe, that I have never been too much for God. I can tell you that He is still here and remarkably is still taking ownership of me and loving me and despite of me. He created me just like this. He is using me in this mess right now, even as I still wander and question, chew on the grit of the desert, learn to accept the art of surrender, and wrestle with my emotioanl rabies-It has only been God who shows up relentlessly and consistently. God will never waste an expierence, even on me.
I wish I could say that all of this "God stuff" came easy for me. Unfortunately, it does not. Trusting God while in the midst of walking through the hellacious dysfunction and challenges of being intensely human has been a daily struggle, a constant challenge and breakdown of my very human desire to be a control freak. God has patiently waited for me to release my insatiable need for control in an attempt to keep sane. I have inadvertent hindered His ability to reduce me and refined me. I have screamed and cursed His name. I have been so hungry to have God reveal Himself to me, that out of complete and utter desperation during one of the worst moments of my life, I ripped out the pages from my Bible one by one. I threw all of the pages and the remaining skeleton of my Bible into a dumpster, and then cursed His name, vowing I would never seek Him out again. Instead of punishing me with lightning bolts in earthquakes, He gently called to me. He offered me peace when my soul should have been cursed to hell. He has allowed me chance after chance to choose Him, and in my grief and fear, I have chosen to reject His love and calling to me. Time and time again, I chose to sit outside of His love and grace, and act out on my own accord. The "emotional rabies" for lack of a better term has caused me to make some ugly decisions. In those moments of anguish and panic I have hurt the people that I love deeply. I wanted to run away from the shaman humiliation of my insecurities and ignorance. But I still have felt loved by God through it all. I have still, miraculously, also been able to love. And I attribute this to God. Even though I haven't dirt being an emotionally neglected and robin hood rat, god has gently guided me through the painful parts of life, and through the loneliness of the desert. Maybe his plan for me is through this book, I can finally show up for Him.
Let the reader beware! This book comes with its own caveat leader, and, I must warn you, it's also littered with a generous dose of profanity. As of today, my rebellious words remain and I have not been suede are convicted to remove any of it. I probably stand behind my decision to be outrageously offensive, because life has had the tendency (for me) to be outrageously profane, and wicked. I had initially wished to narrate my story with softer language and a gentle her tone, but authenticity demanded acknowledging my human experience as a drive-through buffet of unprovoked f*ckery. I struggled to articulate the tension that weight on my soul. I hold the belief, at some point in our life, we all undergo a profound gutting. My life' been a wild ride of insanity, and I hope to vividly portray my desperation and anguish, capturing the depth of darkness, the times and experiences I have had it feeling utterly alone. I specialize in writing about controversial subject matter, tackling offensive topics that provoke deep thought, intimate conversations, and may challenge rigid perspectives. Telling the whole truth can be radically offensive for those unpreppared to receive it, and it is not my intention to offend anyone. Yet, withholding the raw, broken, and gruesome parts of myself would be doing God a disservice. Unfortunately, I can't dilute my words or diminish the intensity of this buck. I won't compromise the tension, stripping the power away from the time and effort God invested in me to captivate my attention. It has taken a whole lotta time in the desert for God to allure me out of my self-imposed, self-absorbed hell- a constructive pit of deception and lies. Now, I step into deliverance. This is my redemption story.
"I will allure her, and lead her into the desert, and I will speak to her heart." -God
(Hosea 2:14)
