025. An Invitation to Wrestle
When did we learn to quiet the questions of our heart, the questions of our wild and playful curiosity?
It is reported that children ask over 300 questions a day. Those children do not yet know the world of withholding and silencing, the taming of their egos to appear less needy. They have not yet learned how to read a face to let them know that their questions, their presence, is no longer welcomed.
There is innate tragedy in learning how to read another’s face. Our hearts are subtly lost in the process. We learn how to sit still and play nicely along with the unspoken rules that will get us the nod of approval. We learn about lines, the ones we can cross and the ones we dare not. We learn about the art of silencing our curiosity, that keeping the peace is a far more valuable endeavor. We learn that toxic shame is a mighty fortress to keep us safe and protected from our hearts delight.
We have all learned at one point or another that the questions of our hearts cannot be trusted, that they are safer in the dark than they are the light. We all have stories, likely many stories, to prove this to be right.
Take a moment to think through the stories that float into your mind where you learned your feelings are too much, your outbursts needed to be contained, and the truth wasn’t going to be talked about.
Do those stories have to be the truest stories you live from? Might there be an expiration date to those “lesser truths” and a discovery of a newer, kinder, lighter truth?
What if there is a journey that we could go on, to get our hearts back?
Cynicism, pity, and bitterness is an easy cup to drink from; it takes little imagination or creativity. What might happen if we turn from ease and instead chose the cup of paradox that holds within it our stories of tragedy and glory, of suffering and joy, of death and resurrection?
What if we embarked on a new kind of learning, a putting aside of one way to make more space for another, truer, more honoring way?
What if we learned to wrestle?
What if we learned to give up cheap seats of quick fixes and surrendered instead to the soil of the earth where we will be met with dirt and mess and struggle along with beauty and growth and space?
Might we invite our hearts to stay in the wrestling just a little longer? Might we begin to breathe in the scent of our struggle, our sweat, our tears, our questions and learn how to bless them instead of cursing them?
Might we learn again how to be tender and gracious with our questions and our hearts? Might we put our shame aside for a time and allow more of our glory and beauty to take up space? Might we believe our glory is worthy of that spacious places?
Might we put words to the weighty questions underneath the less costly questions that linger on the surface?
Might we be bold and brave enough to trust that our God can hold the weight of our grief and our deep utterings and groanings within?
Might we honor those questions that arise, that likely always been there? Might we allow our hearts the generous space to play and wonder? Might we hang our weapons of contempt and judgement up for just a while?
Might we learn again the glory of a child, the unabashed curiosity that is within each of us? Might it be the way to tell the holy truth of our heart? Might we believe, might we suffer in the name of hope that our hearts can absolutely come alive again?
The invitation is always open. Might you say yes?
If you are in the Northeast Los Angeles area and you’re looking for a space to ask those deep questions of your heart and exchange outdated narratives for a way of living that is intuitive, grounded in connection, and wholehearted, feel free to reach out on the contact page to set up a free 15 minute phone consultation with me to discuss more!