For Those I Love

Dear Family & Beloved Friends,

I wish I could make all of this make sense to you. I wish I could ameliorate your fears, amend your anxieties about all of this. I wish I could convince you of what I see, lend you my mind's eye. I wish I could make your apprehension for me evaporate with explanations.

I wish I could pour out my heart to you, tell you everything I'm learning, tell you everything. It was with difficulty I learned that such openness did us all more harm than good. My excitement was quashed by concerns and critiques, by the cautious reserve you displayed when I told you. You feared for me and questioned my motives. I can't say I wouldn't do the same were our roles reversed.

I've learned to draw strict boundaries around this, my journey. Perhaps you see them as walls. But I've learned to trust myself and the God who leads me down this path, learning to trust that if He's leading me away from one thing, He is drawing me toward something better; it's that something better that I long to protect. It is not easy to hold all this back from you; I am accustomed to transparency. I feel like the blind man in Scripture who given fresh sight, is warned by Christ not to tell anyone. I revel in being given new eyes, eyes that see a faith that it wider, deeper, higher, richer, broader than I have ever known. But my sharing so clearly hurts you. It causes you to question and doubt me to some degree; it makes me feel defensive when I have no cause to be. And so I limit what I disclose, not wanting to compromise in any way what I've found by carving this path.

We follow a Savior who commanded of His followers: If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. This is the Christ who said to let the dead bury their dead; who, when one promised to follow Him anywhere but first wanted to bid his family farewell replied, no one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God. This is the Messiah who commanded His followers to be perfect, the One who proclaimed He came not to bring peace, but a sword and in the same breath that he who loves his father or mother ... son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.

Ouch. Sounds harsh, I know. Were I the author of this faith, I wouldn't do it this way. But I'm not. It is not up to me to decide how it should be done. And while I have no intent of turning my back on any relationship, Christ so clearly demands that I not allow even the love of my family to restrict me from following Him without reserve and without condition. I wish I could convey the depth to which this pains me; I have always been privileged to be surrounded by like-minded wayfarers in matters of faith. And now that I've found another way of embodying my faith: a way to which my intellect, heart, and spirit assent, a way that draws me with its fullness and reverence, a way entrenched in history and tradition, a way so deeply rooted in the words of our Lord, I find that I am pulled in this new direction. I am leaving behind the way of familiarity and comfort, embracing something wholly new to me. In a relatively short amount of time, I've seen my heart expand, my faith deepen, my trust challenged. I've seen my heart place its dependence more upon God than ever before.

I cannot and will not let this go.

I do feel so alone in this sometimes. But I cannot allow discomfort or lack of familiarity sway me. Onlookers may be skeptical, they may have their critiques. Comforts have been stripped and He asks of me: will you follow me? He demands unadulterated motives, He requires I follow Him no matter the cost. When He takes away a relationship, when others think I'm crazy, when those closest to me disapprove: will you follow me? If anything or anyone is worth the sacrifice, He is. He so clearly is. And so I lay it all down before Him (again, again, and again), fumbling as I try to place my trust in Him, awkwardly pressing my weight into Him.

There is so much more I could and want to say. But this is not the time or place to offer proofs, to cite texts, or to lay out convincing arguments. This is about my heart and yours.

Know that I am in the most secure place in the world; my heart is safe in the hands of God. Know that I am not abandoning myself. I am only beginning to step into the fullness of faith, the fullness of who God made me to be.

grace & peace,
kirsten