Life in death

I ran from pain. I ran from darkness. I ran from death. I did everything I could to stay happy, to stay healthy, to stay alive. I pinched and squeezed and manipulated the world until it fit my idea of perfection.

But underneath it all lay fear, and grief, and dissatisfaction. All my hidden motivations, my unmet needs, my forgotten hopes were churning, struggling to be heard. They infected my plans for the future, my search for vocation, my pursuit of my true identity.

But in death I have found true life.

In pain, everything has been stripped away. In entering the darkness, the motivations, needs and hopes that had so long been ignored were confronted. In death I have found true life.

It hurts. It hurts to enter into the darkness - whether you choose it, or whether it’s thrust upon you. It’s painful. It’s painful to surrender, to let go of my perfect world and to be in the muck. It’s humbling. It’s humbling to admit that the world I created for myself wasn’t whole, wasn’t real, wasn’t true.

But I have to. I have to surrender. I have to let go. I have admit to the Lord that I can’t do it on my own. I have to ask God “What can you do for me?” Because doing this on my own strength is insufficient. Because it’s too much for me to handle on my own. Because the darkness is too deep without him.

And in surrender there is freedom. Freedom to laugh, to cry, to fail, to grow. Freedom to become my self, my true self – flaws and all, living in a flawed world.

In death, I have found myself. In death, I have found my passions. In death, I have found true life.