It seems like my true self, this inner kid, has been carried off by my Father. They are out on adventures in the wilderness, the son being taught skills and training for a new life. He is being shown a whole new world I am not a part of. Though we are the same, there is a disconnect between me and him. I don’t know what is going on with them. I don’t know where they are or when they will come back. I envy myself. Aren’t I, my waking self, supposed to be united with my new, childlike self and live and reign in this kingdom in our midst? Through this comparison and envy, I twist the beautiful work God is doing, the work I asked Him to do, into a selfish mindset excusing me from the Father’s table to be unhealthy. I feel like I am eating alone, so I am constantly tempted to leave and search for something I cannot find. I fear I am missing out on the very thing I am becoming. My envy convinces me to feel lost and unclaimed like an orphan. It is in this place of sincere vulnerability I hear the call of the wild.
There is a drawing inside of me to be a self-destructive version of myself. A shadow self, taking shape as a black wolf. I don’t know what this is. Is it a monster? I can’t tell because it feels like the fulfillment of all my passions. It feels like freedom, but it’s a curious, selfish glory. And I want it. And it scares me. I hear it tricking me into feeling “alive”. Running with the wolves promises freedom, but I will surely lose my true self. I can’t find myself anyways, so what am I supposed to do?
I was lead into these woods to kill the wolves ravaging the land. I hunted them for years, tracking their footprints in the undergrowth. Between the trees and across shallow streams, but the trail ends inside of me. With endless hunger and a thirst for blood, I keep them close. Call of the wild, full moon tonight, lift my eyes and howl for no other reason than because I have to. It’s like going to the zoo and the exhibits are empty because the animals are inside of you.
Lord, don’t let my heart go astray. I don’t want to hate myself, not one single piece of me.
From what I can tell, a healthy version of someone with my personality is still quite conflicted. We can go anywhere inside ourselves – feel the depths of every emotion. And we do because if we don’t, we think we are missing out. We think we aren’t being authentic to ourselves. And the expression of our authenticity and individualism is the core of who we are.
When an emotion rises up, I want to dive into it and explore it and feel all of it. Set sail on an expedition to figure out what it is, what it looks like and where it came from. To paint a portrait and put a name to that face, to show I’m not afraid. To show I’m not controlled by it. But that ship usually doesn’t come back. If it does, it returns to port with tattered sails, cannonball holes in the hull, and with a broken mast. There are no colors to hoist high. The worst part is I’ll send another ship later, no matter the storm. Because if I don’t, my authenticity comes into question. But clearly, if I become the ship, become my emotions, I will always be lost at sea. And if I somehow return, my sea legs won’t let me live a happy life on land.
“Are you sure that there’s no other way?”“There’s always another way. Somewhere, written in some forgotten language, in some city lost in lava, likely lies buried the secret to having everything I want all at once. But I’m not gonna find it today, and today is all I have.” // The Originals
The child inside of me is lifted up on Your shoulders. He can see the whole world. From behind him, I see what he’s looking at. Castles and mountains. Cities and kingdoms. Fields and forests. He can see the ocean and birds flying through clouds. The glow and haze of a sunrise. The way the night lights glint off the water. But he also sees fire and sometimes the air is full of smoke from the people’s violence coming from their hatred of themselves, projected onto others. A rage of anger that the world cannot provide for them that which they seek – to be known and loved. You raised him up, so he can see what You see – the heart of things, but also beauty. I see the child inside of me cling tight to Your hands because he feels the winds of powerlessness blow through him and he becomes scared that things will never change. That there isn’t anything left to do, but hold on to the little light of life we have left. Then my view changes and the perspective pans around to the front of him so I can see his face as You hold him high, steadfast, leaning into the wind. The light of a new kind of life hits his face. The glory of the bright Morning Star being realized. Daylight through the gloom shines like it never has before.
2 Peter 1:19
We also have the prophetic message as something completely reliable, and you will do well to pay attention to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.
“When the light of the Scripture is darted into the blind mind and dark understanding, by the Holy Spirit of God, it is like the day-break that advances, and diffuses itself through the whole soul, till it makes perfect day.” // Matthew Henry Commentary
There is a place in your heart deeper than emotion. It is what truth feels like. The place where your truest self is experienced and loved. “You are being romanced into Me.” It is the deep presence of something greater that gently humbles even your most forceful feelings. Brings you back to where you are supposed to be, where you were always meant to belong. It’s the new reality we long for. And it’s a place we can enter into if we want. But stay alert. Because that door is guarded by your shadow self.
What am I supposed to do about the big, black wolf inside? He pretends to be me. Do I hunt and kill him? Will I die if he dies? Do I capture him? Tame him and ride on his back? Can I control him? Use him to work for me? Do I make an alliance with him? A peace treaty? Do we meet on neutral grounds and sit at the same table? Am I supposed to learn from him? Or become his master? Are we to be united? Or do I end him and wear his fur like a coat?
“We are surrounded by the reality of the unseen, which fills every part of our life with a moment of terror but at the same time holds the secret mystery of our being alive.” // Henri Nouwen
Whatever happens, there will be blood. Mine or his, or ours. He moves first, like he always does. He always knows what to do when I’m confused. My shadow self abandons his post at the door of everything I’ve ever wanted, of who I’ve always wanted to be. He snarls and springs forth into a sprint. Broken teeth from our previous encounters bared. He runs on all fours with the speed of a fleeting shadow, chased by a beam of light. I’ll never forget the sound of his black paws, pounding the ground as he comes at me. I’ve never succeeded against him, the scars say as much. But the details of this day entail some entrails. This darkness was never mine. It was always external; I had allowed it to take up residence in a place it did not belong. I’m done drinking poison. It’s time for a bloody little funeral.
“I grew tall to fill the voidLet me go because you are just a shadeOf what I am not what I’ll be” // Hunger, Of Monsters and Men
The true mark of self discipline is bringing everything to the Lord in prayer. The undisciplined aspects of our personality, those thoughts, that if left unchecked throw us off balance and into a mood, that is not of you. The shame, the way we condemn ourselves, the hypocrisy, God says, “Bring me their heads.” Like how young David stood before the king, still holding the giant’s head. No one will do it for you. Approach the throne with confidence, holding the slayed thought patterns you just interrupted. Take the head. Leave the body.
2 Samuel 22:29
You, Lord, are my lamp; the Lord turns my darkness into light.
God’s discipline is to work with us through our darkness. What is our darkness? Our shadow self. It is the embodiment of everything we are terrified of letting go of. Every part of ourselves we try to hold on to because we are scared of what we could become. Yet in this way we are deceived. For to fully experience our new selves in Christ, the new, resurrected, heavenly, creative creatures we truly are, our former shadow selves must be more than scattered to the edges of our minds. Because those shadows will soon reform and the front line of living will never advance. The struggle will not end and you will continue to feel powerless in this life. That is not the way of Jesus or the kingdom He designed for us, here and now.
Ephesians 5:8, 11, 13
For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light… Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them… But everything exposed by the light becomes visible—and everything that is illuminated becomes a light.
It’s not the destruction of darkness, it’s an awakening, opening the eyes of our rebirth to the presence of God in the midst of our darkest thoughts and feelings. On the cross, Jesus suffered every kind of suffering there ever was or ever will be. There is no emotion, no pain you will feel that He hasn’t already felt. When you feel that, know He felt it first and far more deeply than you ever could. We were with Him, there on that cross, suffering, and He is with us now in our suffering. Fully present. Our work now is to fully awaken to His faithful, loving, glorious presence. To not ask Jesus to take away our suffering and sorrow, but to become aware that He is with us in the midst of it. And when we do, we are letting God’s redemption penetrate the darkest parts of us. We let the illuminated darkness become a light. It is only at that time do we experience the state of our true, risen selves living the resurrection life as children of light in Christ. Setting our hearts and minds above. And letting the heavenly reality transform the one on earth. The kingdom has come.
1 Thessalonians 5:5
For you are all children of light, children of the day. We are not of the night or of the darkness.
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