AS YOU ARE →

June 22, 2017 by Kaitlyn Dagen in Reflections

Edited and Published by Recenter Press, 2017.

The church sings David Crowder's hymn "Come As You Are” together in worship and I am suddenly overcome with the profound weight of grace in this statement. For me, it’s easy to quickly pawn off these sentiments onto other people: Come as you are, it doesn't matter where you're at, you won't be judged here. I accept you, you are forgiven, you are loved. But this time, as I learn to live amongst the push and pull of both worldly and self-induced double standards, I let this sense of acceptance wash over my own guilt, my own confusion, hurt, pride, fear, and shortcomings.

Today, I am the one in desperate need of this reminder.

Today, the voices of Fear and Disappointment take my hand and pull me to the left, saying, "Kaitlyn, come this way. It’s safe over here. Your dreams will never come to fruition. You will never be able to make them happen. You have failed. It’s not in you.”

I look to the right as my other hand is pulled in the opposite direction, the voices of Pain and Confusion saying, "Yes, Kaitlyn, come this way. You deserved all that has unfolded. Everything you had is now gone — the people, the opportunities, the experiences. You care so much, but for what? Put your guard back up and you won’t get hurt again.”

I wrestle as my arms are pulled in both directions. I am bound and unmoving. It can be easy to give in and justify the voices on both sides of this internal argument; to allow them to become a truth about me. Sometimes they mean well. My arms get tired. I long so badly to be free of them. If I'm feeling strong, I might try to stay and fight them off for a while. Yet the more I try to fight them off, the more I have to struggle.

But what would happen if I stopped paying attention to these adversaries? That's all they want — attention. If only I would stop struggling, stop giving life to the voices that pull me in multiple directions.

I squint my eyes as they catch something straight ahead in the distance. It has been there the whole time, but I have been too distracted to notice. This voice is not a forceful thing; it quietly and patiently beckons us. It’s softer, sweeter. It weeps as it watches the inner struggle against the deceptions that seek to entwine us.

Why do I so quickly forget that the real Voice, the real Truth, is straight ahead of me? As I center my gaze upon it, it gently says, "Come as you are, it doesn't matter where you're at, you won't be judged here. I accept you, you are forgiven, you are loved."

The grip on my wrists loosen.

Even if our arms are being pulled to the right and to the left, may we continue to walk forward with our eyes, ears, and hearts fixed straight ahead, like the gaze of a Son who looked to his Father as his arms were pulled to the right and to the left, hands nailed down to a tree, three days away from liberation.

THE WALL AHEAD

June 05, 2017 by Kaitlyn Dagen in Reflections

I once again find myself at a Wall that stands before me. As I saw it approaching on the horizon, my senses heightened, but I am not afraid. Now it is close enough to touch. It feels familiar. I have been to a Wall like this before. I know that somewhere along it, there is a door. So I put my hand on the Wall, choose a direction, and start walking. I feel the grooves of the stones under my fingertips as I calmly walk along it, knowing that it won't be long until I find the doorknob.

I have been to a Wall like this before.

In the past, its obstructive presence was not so welcoming. What is this giant obstacle? Where did it come from? I was doing just fine on the smooth, pretty path I was on. I have tried to climb over the Wall. The task only wore me out. The Wall once brought panic, as I searched it frantically, looking for something to grasp, looking for any way past it, pounding at it in frustration. I have been tempted to turn around and go back to where I came from. But I came from nothing good. I have sat down and given up at this Wall. I buried myself in its shadows as I mourned the loss of all that once lay before me.

Eventually, frustration turns into weary desperation, and the only thing you can do is be still. You've been emptied. Eventually, you have no choice but to get up, if you want to survive. You hold on to the Wall as you decide to surrender to your situation. Stay calm as you muster up your strength, and take courage as you walk along its undiscovered length. The journey will transform you.

You will eventually reach a door.

And when you open it, you will pass through it like a new birth.

I have been to a Wall like this before.

Inspired By: Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, Pete Scazerro - founder of Emotionally Healthy Spirituality ministries.

Further Reading: The Dark Night of the Soul, St. John of the Cross