[Close] The Door

Our lives are frequently shaped by pivotal moments. And by pivotal I mean involving of a point of no return. Getting a puppy, having a baby, opening a business, starting school, ending a relationship, achieving a goal, a death in the family. What was once there is now different. Time does not wait for anyone, it moves as it wishes – and as humans, we only have so much of it. We know neither the time nor hour that our time will run out.

For some this may plant the desire in our hearts to latch onto the things we hold dearly, to try and control the amount of time with the person, place, or thing – and whenever it is time to change we are at a loss. Personal identity begins to morph into association with something that is not yours to define, and yet, we start to define ourselves by that very thing.

As a GoT fan, and for the sake of metaphor – “The Hold the Door” scene was a pivotal moment of the series and show. It left most jaw-dropped, wide eyed, and probably a bit tearful. Fans were attached to a character, and within a few seconds, he was gone. Hearts broken, emotions wrenched – most were deeply in their feels. What did you do the next day? You were probably a little upset. I mean, you may have fallen victim to a plethora of memes that prodded your open wounds, but by the next day you were over it. You didn’t mire yourself down into the Swamp of Sadness like Artax in The Neverending Story (RIP Artax), no – you moved on. 

You may have been attached to the character, but they didn’t define your being. You weren’t going to let it negatively affect you on a daily basis. Why? It’s because you weren’t in control of what occurred. In real life, we have next to zero ultimate control over another’s decision or their timeline. So why does this logic so frequently apply to fiction? Why isn’t the same train of thought applied to doing the most in your work circumstances, moving past heartache, or accepting that your puppy isn’t going to stay that way forever?

A wise-bearded-man once gave me this metaphor:

You have just walked through a door, and you are in a hallway. The door you just walked through is to your back. There is a large room in front of you, filled with other doors – ladders even, to other stories within the chamber. You walk into the room, and your visceral intuition proclaims there is only going forward. You can’t go back, but Sweet Christmas you want to – you go back to the door, and it isn’t quite shut. It’s cracked open, and you find yourself looking into the pensive that is filled with the Once-Was, but that’s all it is full of. The past, what once was. Not what is now. It looks nice, it feels comfortable, but it isn’t real.

Going for the Harry Potter analogy here, the Mirror of Erised will only ever show us what we do or have, desired. Dumbledore warns us that no matter how deeply we peer into its alluring sheen, we will never be satisfied. It will always make us thirst.

Take heart! Move forward! Close the door. You have faith in the simplest of things on a daily basis – a light switch, the brakes of your car, your Instagram account not getting spontaneously hacked – how much more faith do you need to believe that what is to come will almost certainly be better than what once was? Close the door.

Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1). Therefore, close the door.

When Your Good Isn't Good Enough

As a Tiger fan sitting in Death Valley this past weekend for the LSU vs. Alabama exhibition, the game did not finish with the outcome that myself, or any other one of the 100K+ fans that filled the ranks of the stadium’s bleachers, suites, and nosebleed sections expected. With LSU not closing with a victory since 2011, I found myself questioning, “When will they ever be good enough?” During the somber walk back to the car, I found this question hovering over many aspects of my life.

Photo from The Advertiser

I have always struggled with thoughts of not being good enough, not being good enough in relationships, athletics, academics, etc. In the same way that LSU ran their race with BAMA up until the final 5 minutes before every Tiger fan let out a collective sigh of disappointment in acceptance of impending defeat, I was acutely aware of how I’ve never been the very best [like no one ever was]. I was reminded of my singleness, my “ok” fitness abilities, and how I didn’t necessarily get into my first choice of school. It was a very raw and grounding wave of emotions.

Considering my Christianity, it would be SUPER helpful if I dropped an encouraging verse like Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and future…” right!? Some Christians tend to forget about the context of this verse, and how the whole reason Jeremiah was receiving this message from The Lord was because the whole of Israel was being a huge, disobedient-gnarwhale, towards the God who had saved them from countless amounts of trials and self-indulging actions.

Not to disbar JER 29:11, but when considering The Bible, LSU vs. BAMA, my life or yours – context is everything. Israel continued to fall short after God brought them out of their Babylonian exile, LSU may never beat Alabama as long as Saban’s reign continues [Geaux Tigers, Forever LSU], and I still don’t have a wife or DPT behind my name, yet. This isn’t the ideal-super-encouraging-faith post, but it’s real life, and I know all of these things are the way they are for a reason. 

John Piper once said, “Life is hard. God is good.” 1 Peter 1:6-7 says, “In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith – more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire – may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”

It is easy to incur what I’ve heard coined as “spiritual amnesia,” when considering the current personal sufferings we may find ourselves in, and how one can so easily forget of God’s goodness as soon as something not-so-great happens. This abstraction of faith solidifies in action, and when I let my fears take the reins of my thoughts, my actions surely follow suit.     

A strong woman once told me that as an athlete, some are scared to give 100% because they may find out they are not good enough. Some allow that fear to cripple their walk, while some face it head on. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve done both. But I take heart in the fact that trials test faith (in whatever that may be for you), and that through these trials we gain multi-faceted endurance to continue our race.