I knew when I typed. I wanted to make her real and It always costs me something in my last post, I was in for it.
Welcome to the tennis match of God's workshop. Into my orderly life He lobbed a seemingly innocent stint on stage followed by the cross court backhand of my friend's post The Best Way To Hide and rushed the net for the kill shot by throwing me into a situation I haven't allowed in years. Years!
Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer. From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe. I long to dwell in your tent forever and take refuge in the shelter of your wings. Psalm 61:1-4
I learned early to run to God's comfort and security. He is the only true and safe place when any of us face what is bigger than us. But, had I taken it to a professional level? Instead of hiding to dwell with Him, was I just hiding?
When it comes to acting, I work hard. If the character isn't real, people will not relate. A character without layers is not real. Thus my predicament. To achieve a depth of layers, I have to dig deep into my own. Trust me, they are many and deep and have been hidden for a long time. This is where the cost comes. When the script is placed back on the shelf, the pesky tools I dug around to find are not so easily returned. They demand the attention of reality stripped of any character I conjure in my imagination.
Our church Christmas program this year was about loss. I thought I had escaped digging into my past, when I was asked to be the Assistant Director. One night, we worked a key scene again and again. Everyone was exhausted and the actors, though amazing, were struggling to understand what the director wanted. I sat there on the front row, heart pounding, bargaining with God. Don't make me go there! Please, don't make me talk about it. I obeyed and forced my biggest skeleton out of hiding. Telling them what it felt like to have an unfaithful husband was as excrutiating that night as the day I found out. Although I was a mess for weeks, God replaced what I released with another healing step forward.
Compared to Christmas, I breezed through my next play even though God continued His relentless baseline volley. This time the lessons were offstage. I wanted to put the tools safely away. I wanted to say. Let the retreat begin! He said, No. You have to quit hiding it. If you want to be mine, you can't keep hiding from pain. You have to be willing to hurt again.
The ball is in my court. Now what am I going to do about it?
This is for me.
This is for you. Are there things you would rather hide? Please don't let me think I'm the only one. The ball is in your court. What do you want to do about it?
Welcome to the tennis match of God's workshop. Into my orderly life He lobbed a seemingly innocent stint on stage followed by the cross court backhand of my friend's post The Best Way To Hide and rushed the net for the kill shot by throwing me into a situation I haven't allowed in years. Years!
Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer. From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe. I long to dwell in your tent forever and take refuge in the shelter of your wings. Psalm 61:1-4
I learned early to run to God's comfort and security. He is the only true and safe place when any of us face what is bigger than us. But, had I taken it to a professional level? Instead of hiding to dwell with Him, was I just hiding?
When it comes to acting, I work hard. If the character isn't real, people will not relate. A character without layers is not real. Thus my predicament. To achieve a depth of layers, I have to dig deep into my own. Trust me, they are many and deep and have been hidden for a long time. This is where the cost comes. When the script is placed back on the shelf, the pesky tools I dug around to find are not so easily returned. They demand the attention of reality stripped of any character I conjure in my imagination.
Our church Christmas program this year was about loss. I thought I had escaped digging into my past, when I was asked to be the Assistant Director. One night, we worked a key scene again and again. Everyone was exhausted and the actors, though amazing, were struggling to understand what the director wanted. I sat there on the front row, heart pounding, bargaining with God. Don't make me go there! Please, don't make me talk about it. I obeyed and forced my biggest skeleton out of hiding. Telling them what it felt like to have an unfaithful husband was as excrutiating that night as the day I found out. Although I was a mess for weeks, God replaced what I released with another healing step forward.
Compared to Christmas, I breezed through my next play even though God continued His relentless baseline volley. This time the lessons were offstage. I wanted to put the tools safely away. I wanted to say. Let the retreat begin! He said, No. You have to quit hiding it. If you want to be mine, you can't keep hiding from pain. You have to be willing to hurt again.
The ball is in my court. Now what am I going to do about it?
This is for me.
This is for you. Are there things you would rather hide? Please don't let me think I'm the only one. The ball is in your court. What do you want to do about it?
