Epiphany

Romans 12:2 ... be transformed by the renewing of your mind.

This is part 8 of a story to help me process ... and discover Freedom. (continued from part 7- Hysterical)

(Part 1- Where am I?; Part 2- Discombobulation; Part 3- Revelation; Part 4- Hesitation; Part 5- Veritas Liberabit Vos; Part 6- Misery)
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"Are you OK?" Jesus asked.

The laughter had subsided and I was deep in thought.  Doubt.  I doubted so many things.  Every thought seemed to be second guessed and then doubted some more.  It was comfortable sitting here next to Jesus.  Just being in his presence.  It reminded me of the old days and our time together, but my mind was full of doubt.  How can he still love me?

"No.  No, I guess I'm not OK,"  I replied.  The honesty felt right.  As if just speaking the truthful words brought peace to my overwhelmed mind.  I wasn't okay.  I haven't been okay.  I have been stumbling along trying to figure out what went wrong only to perpetuate my stumbling.

"Do you want to talk about it?"  The words were so genuine.  He wouldn't push me more than I was willing to go.  For me, he would nudge, guide, prod and persuade, but that final step had to be mine.  Seek and you will find.  Knock and the door will be opened.

"Not really," I spoke honestly again.  I did, but I didn't.  I wanted to tell him my worries and fears, but I didn't.  I wanted him to tell me where I went wrong, but I didn't.  I wanted to explode my emotional frustration and have him tell me everything would be okay.  But I knew it wouldn't be that simple.  Core parts of me had to change.  Core parts of me had to be refined.

"OK," he replied.  He knew me so well.  If he out right told me to do it, I wouldn't.  However, if it was my own decision, I was committed.  The fact of the matter was I had to talk about it.  I had come to furthest reaches of my faith, and the chains that bound me up prevented me from going further.  I was like a dog tied to a post in his yard.  I had to be released from those chains to move on.

I stood up from where we were sitting under the tree and walked away a couple of steps.  "I suppose I should," I finally said, turning to face Jesus.

"Probably."

"But I don't even know where to start."  Thousands of thoughts flooded my mind.  Every doubt.  Every confusion.  Every failure.

"Well,"  Jesus stood and walked over to me, "You started along time ago."  He placed his hand on my shoulder, "And you are doing great."

I blushed.  His words were such a contrast to my inner dialogue.  I never felt like I was doing great.  I felt like I had failed miserably.  The times that were great I figured was the result of my wife and her faith.

Jesus' arm wrapped around my neck in a head lock and forced me to hunch over.  "Ouch," I cried, even though it didn't really hurt.  "What are you doing?"  I was fighting trying to get away.

"I.  Am.  Just.  Trying," he breathed heavily as if he were exerting himself, "To.  Get.  It.  Off."  He finally released me and backed away.  I looked at him surprised as he scrutinized me.  He stepped forward again, "Maybe if we ... "

"What?!"  I cut him off, confused frustration filling my voice.  He stopped.  One minute we're laughing, the next he's trying to rip my head off.  I was already on an emotional roller coaster, I didn't need this.

"You know I am surprised you don't have more bruises," he said and started pacing back and forth, still scrutinizing me, as if, at any moment he would pounce on me.

I looked at him with a puzzled expression.  I was beyond confused.  Sometimes Jesus did the most bizarre things, said the most bizarre things.  Was this because it was my mind?  Was I imagining these very things he did and spoke?  The inner workings of my own mind were strange enough as it was.  It certainly could be me.  But I wondered, maybe Jesus was speaking to me the way I needed to be spoken to. 

Here we were in my place of prayer, long ago an intimate place of connection with my Savior.  He often had spoken to me in a way and with words that were exactly what I needed to hear.  It has been awhile since we've met in this place.  Our recent encounters have been so much more reserved on my part.  Here, though, all pretenses were gone.  He could say what needed to be said and I could be myself.

"Yes!" Jesus exclaimed and lept at me.  Before I could fully grasp what he was doing, his shoulder barreled into my stomach as he tackled me to the ground.  Our momentum tumbled us down the hill a little way.  It sounded like Jesus was giggling when our bodies finally disentangled from eachother.  "You're it!" he yelled and ran back up the hill.