Breaking out of the Fortress… to live

I found myself living in a fortress. Behind thick gray walls of cold stone. The rooms echoed with my thoughts and unspoken words. My fears and terrors coming again and again to haunt me. Memories and stories roamed the halls and I constantly encountered them, searching for a way around or through each time we came face to face. I had built this fortress, to protect myself. From pain and hurt, for my survival. I had put stone upon stone, and installed small windows high off the ground with no chance of being breached. “I’m safe now,” I told myself. I can finally breathe. I won’t be bothered. This is my space. I moved in. But alas… Yes, I felt safe, somewhat. I was free of pain. somewhat. But I began to get cold. My heart, which before had provided me with just enough heat to keep myself relatively warm, began to cool. The embers that were alive began to fade, the cold of the stone walls sucking the life from them. I started to feel numb. Life was listless, every day the same. The gray light seeped in through the high windows every morning. The shadows inside my fortress moved with the light coming dimly in. I walked from room to room, looking for warmth. But the only thing I encountered was memories of stabbing pain. You see, they had moved in with me. Once in a while I allowed myself to emerge onto the outside terrace and look around a little. I was surrounded by a deep dark moat, an extra level of protection, that I had dug out myself. The drawbridge stayed up, because to put it down was a breach to the safety of my fortress. One day as I stood on the terrace I allowed my gaze to settle for a minute or two on a sunlit meadow in the distance. Was there people there? I thought I could see them strolling, skipping, running. And I was sure I could hear laughter and sweet melody. Just for a moment, a light pierced through the clouds and touched my heart. It stirred, just slightly. I wanted to go there. But quickly I turned to go back inside behind my walls of perfection, into my safety. I sat down in the chair that was usually my favorite. It felt uncomfortable and hard. I reached for my familiar things that comforted me, a book, a cup of tea. The book was weird, no longer holding my interest. Something had happened to the tea. It was sour, and after one sip I set the cup back down. “What’s wrong?” I mourned? Tears began to fall, and somehow I knew it was because of the light that had touched me. I allowed myself to remember the meadow. It was terrifying, because again I felt the stirring, the longing. “Oh, but those people don’t know what it’s like to be hurt. They have never felt pain. Just wait, one day they’ll know and then they'll look for a safe place too.” As I sat and wrestled, the stirring in my cold heart got very uncomfortable. A voice said, “Maybe you should visit the meadow.” “NO,” I inwardly screamed. “It’s too scary.” Everyone out there wants to hurt me.” Evening had fallen, and I fell asleep, suffering greatly. As the gray dawn broke, I sat up with a start. “Oh I’m safe. Here are the same stone walls and the windows where no one will get in.” And then I remembered the meadow, and the voice, “Maybe you should visit the meadow.” I couldn’t shake it. I remembered at that moment a set of armor I’d hidden away in a secret basement room. Maybe if I wore that, I could go. No one would recognize me. No one could hurt me, because I could be protected. I stole down to the lower level room, and yes, it was still there. I tried it on. It was heavy, but it fit. “Do I dare?” I thought I would try. I donned every single piece of armor I could find, and when I was ready, I was totally covered from head to toe. I walked to the door and stepped out. As I started to let down the drawbridge it creaked and groaned as the gears loosened. It slowly and unwillingly descended. I put a foot on the bridge. The water below was dark and turbulent. I looked up, and again caught a glimpse of the meadow. I walked on, over the bridge and across the fields in the direction of the meadow. The sun seemed to get warmer, and I got hot under my layers of protection. And it was heavy. I reached the meadow and felt strangely out of place. And then that voice again, “You would be more comfortable without that armor.” “Oh, no, this is my protection”, I moaned. But I could not move. It was cumbersome and weighted me down. The sun was shining, and the soft breeze had a tinkle of music as is flowed on its way. “You would be more comfortable without that armor.” came the voice again. I took off my helmet. The sunshine warmed my hair and streamed into my eyes. The musical breeze sang to my ears. It felt strange to be so unprotected, so vulnerable. But it felt so good. I took the next piece, and the next until all the armor lay in a pile beside me. I felt a hush, a warmth, an infilling. I began to walk, to skip, to jump. I shouted for joy. The pain and the hurts of the past fell away. It was like the sunshine and breeze melted and blew them away. I had no wall of protection anymore, but somehow I felt safe. Safe in vulnerability, safe in the light of God’s love, safe and so joyful and full of peace. I looked across the fields to my fortress. It looked tall and foreboding, joyless, hopeless, and cold. I could not go back. I would stay here in the meadow forever, basking in the sunshine. I would just be me, hurts and all. I would let this love permeate and heal me through and through. I was done with the fortress life. I belonged in the sunshine, connected to me, connected to God, connected to life, and really truly, finally alive…