God knew I was blind though. “I once was blind but now I see” kind of dramatic blindness. Sometimes we pray to be free but we’ve no vision for the future. Like spoiled children, we throw ourselves down to the ground, kicking and screaming while our parent lovingly tries to discern what it is that we really want. But we’re so focused on the tantrum, on the injustice we perceive, our screams block out what’s available to us. We continue to complain that no one cares. No one loves us. No one pays attention to us. Ice cream in Father God’s hand extended toward us, saying, “Here now child, I’m giving you what you want. No need to punish yourself anymore.” How sad when we calm down, slow our breathing, blow our nose and see we’ve let most of the ice cream melt. Our favorite flavor, in fact. The shame we feel when we realize the only reason we could not have what we wanted was because we were too focused on the belief that we’d never have it. So, the first step toward that vision, is to stop the temper tantrums and accept that God loves us so much, He wants us to have the desires of our heart. Many Christians habitually blame unanswered prayer on the fact that what we wanted must have been bad for us in God’s eyes. But I’d venture to claim that most of the time our vision simply needs to be enlarged. We pray for what we want in puzzle piece sized portions and then hope to fit it altogether in our spare time. Like the child who’s overcome by frustrated anxiety, often before they’ve taken the time to communicate their desires clearly, we need to grow up – and calmly admit there is something big we want that we do not yet have. Clearly communicating this vision to ourselves, others and God sets the foundation on which we can continue to build, all temper tantrums aside.
You’ll notice something miraculous happen once you begin to speak the dressed down truth about your life, your real disappointments and desires. Not the desires that everyone can handle. Not the truths that make you seem sane. Not the troubles that will keep you from scaring everyone away. But the bare bones truth about you, frightening even the ugliest version of self with whom you’re so used to communing. Everyone knows at least three versions of truth, the one we’re able to handle, the one others can handle and the version that leaves our soul flopping raw out the window down the highway at 100 miles per hour. It’s surviving that ride of what feels like reckless abandon that will bring us closest to the groggy vision now awakening to endless possibilities of us. What you’ll notice on this journey is that there are fewer travelers. This might initially seem like a lonelier fate but instead you now commune with others willing to speak and listen to the Truth. Your relationships, though sparse, are more fulfilling because they’re based on indisputable facts, free to enter and exit the revolving door of your soul.