Losing & Finding My Way - Again (Part One)

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 

----Robert Frost

Several years ago ... nearly 10, to be exact ... I turned the direction of my life on its tail and nothing has been the same since. I had been confident in my worldview and more than a bit cocky, because I "knew" what few others seemed to grasp - and yet it was so clear to me: All we are is all we are. There is no magical supernatural being over us or in us; the only part of the Bible I agreed with was some part about coming from dust and ending in dust. Period. End of story. 

Although I had this grasp on a "truth" that seemed to escape the masses, there eventually came a point when I was forced to admit that my life was digging itself deeper into a ditch - a ditch that those masses were seemingly avoiding. What was the difference? In my early 20's I finally took to heart the old maxim, "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over & over and expecting different results." I had been making decisions the same way over & over and was getting the same downward-spiraling results over & over. It was time for a change. 

But what needed to change? I wasn't sure - so everything was up for reexamination. Turns out that my entire life was put on an anvil by which I was being forged into something completely different - what I believed, how I thought, who I spent time with, what I did for a living, what I did for recreation - all of these things were up for reevaluation. This was the most important thing I ever did in my life, and I hope that I never take any piece out of the "Able To Be Re-Examined" category again.

By that point in my life I was weary. Weary of running so hard and so fast in one direction only to realize, a hundred miles down that road, that it was the wrong road. I was weary of living according to the way that every logical neuron in my brain said was right, and yet it ended in disaster time and time again. I was weary of having no hope; I was weary of thinking that the here & now was the best it would ever be. "But I am a realist," I continued to tell myself. You don't believe in something that's not true just because you want it to be true; just because it makes you all fuzzy inside. That's the 'opiate of the masses,' right? But I was ... so ... weary.

"Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.

Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me - and you will find rest for your souls.

For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."

Have you ever heard something that soothed a nerve deep inside your soul that had been rubbed raw? Maybe a raw nerve you didn't even realize you had? This was it for me. I don't know that I realized at the time just how weary I was, until I tasted of this salve for the first time.  Somewhere in my subconscious - that part where you know it, but you won't admit it to yourself - I had been trying to treat my own raw nerves in several ways for a long time. It was as if deep in my soul I had a bundle of raw nerves - like copper wires stripped of their protective coating - and as painful as each one was, they were outright dangerous if one bare wire touched another. So I would wrap each raw nerve in whatever I had in my tool belt (which, as an atheist, wasn't much), so I wrapped each nerve as if in an Ace bandage of alcohol, or partying, or just the constant noise and busy-ness around me so that I would never be left alone in the [sober] quiet company of my own raw nerves. But what I had come to learn was that these bandages of partying and distraction were actually just as conductive as a bare wire; although it might take a delay of a short amount of time for the electric shock to travel, the punch delivered was sometimes worse than it would've been without the delay. 

But then I started to experience a genuine salve - a true solution for my raw nerves instead of the poor & temporary fixes I'd been attempting. A single drop of hope applied to a raw nerve is more soothing than a hundred bottles of alcohol. The more I sought to learn more about this "easy yoke" and "light burden," the more that one drop of hope turned into a small, steady trickle from a faucet. Each drop peeled back a layer of my own shoddy bandaging and applied a sincere remedy - and unlike my other attempts, this one wasn't wearing off a few hours later to only reveal more corroded wire. Unless I went back in after the salve had been applied and stripped the wire raw again on my own, it stayed healed. I'd never experienced such a thing before -- and it made me crave more of it.

Little by little and day by day I realized that Jesus - yes, this same Jesus whom I had debated endlessly about and whom I had denied my entire life - was standing right in front of me, knocking persistently at my door and imploring that I let Him heal not just one or two of my raw nerves, but every single raw nerve I had. Ones I didn't even know I had. He would gladly take the bag of bricks I'd been accumulating off my back, set them down and forget them, and hand me a yoke that was truly a resting place for my soul. I was finding that Jesus was not some historical event to debate or some overlord desperate to condemn the world -- He was living and breathing and calling me, all in a way I couldn't explain. How could someone who lived 2,000 years ago be active in my life today?? Skeptical, thinking it was too good to be true, I eventually took Him up on His offer. And you know what? Every raw nerve is healing and my soul is at rest. This sure doesn't mean I don't have problems - it simply means that the fountain of hope & living water from which I now freely drink is enough to give me a contentment and a peace that goes well beyond whatever temporal problems I have -- and that, my friends, is rest for my soul.

{But then something changed. Please see Part Two}