In the Backseat

I happened to encase the real me on our mission trip. But the understanding that came with sacrificing my time and effort kind of started to scare me. In a way, I had been living a lie by living spiritually unhealthy. For example, not until I got back from Mexico did I somewhat realize the power that could come from praying on my knees. The actual physical position places one into a surreal, holy mood and concentration followed by reflection bellows over with vulnerability. It might even be emotional.

A word we like to skip here in Male America. Emotion.

Or rather, I like to skip.

It is much easier to just avoid getting in the messy, murky place of emotional vulnerability. I am not talking about those emo cliques, I am talking about a powerful Holy Spirit that sensually draws us to the alter. What if my spirituality was so captivating, so obsessive that I could not help but be overwhelming with emotion from the overflow of God’s grace and blessings?

I see this clearly in my grandparents. My grandpa can choke up just talking about relationships he has made that clearly define God’s spirit moving through the world. Just the other day, for example, my grandma teared and told me how much she yearned for heaven, and in the same tears, commanded me to celebrate at her funeral.

The first night in El Paso I drew a sketch of the scene painted in front of my solo time. I drew the road leading to the border and described my thoughts of what I was entering and what I was leaving behind. I was leaving my state of peace for a fearfully position, and uncomfortable and challenging road ahead.

“I like the peace; in the back seat.

I don’t have to drive,

I don’t have to speak.”

Then calamity struck when it was most important. I made a list of all the baggage I needed to leave at the steps of America: fear, worry, doubt, confusion, judgement, misconception, flippancy and sarcasm. Even the mountains, with all of their desert brute appeared to shelter me from Mexico.

Mexico taught me to jump into the water. I realized their were so many things in the world I did not know. I felt helpless. The basic form of communication and understanding, language, stripped away. The simplest little concepts could not be conveyed. But the most important, and for that matter intense, emotions passed all language barriers. The drug effect of a hug still remained.

“I’ve been learning to drive,

my whole life!”

The internal struggle and realization taught me how to feel emotion again. It can’t be formulated into tiny calculations, where if one person says one thing another person will give the appropriate response. Pretty robotic.

But I would rather just enjoy the peace, of the backseat. If I gave my heart to the Spirit’s calling it might be dangerously emotional. I might have to learn new things and admit my ignorance. Admit that I’ve been learning to drive life, my whole life---but at least I am willing to take the risk and learn to follow His steps.