There is a new picture at the top of this blog called Crossing Border Stories. A group of geese valiantly cross the road, risking their very lives for who knows what reason. Oh, so many parables to be told about these lovable, courageous, dumb-witted geese!
Crossing Border Stories birthed when someone asked me to write down my thoughts on traveling overseas and the people I had encountered. Frankly, I didn't have much to write for some reason.
Shortly after creating the blog's name, God set me free from many of the legalistic attitudes* of my heart and I began writing the short, spiritual essays that you see here today. I had never believed I had permission from anyone to do so. I thought those things were reserved for pastors, theologians, or any one of the elevated "spiritual sages" I had esteemed.
Then, something happened. First, I began to see these ideas and experiences swirling around in my head and life as being something I could give to others as some sort of act of service. Wow. Me. I might be able to give something to someone. But, there was a problem. I still didn't think I had permission so for some reason. I still wasn't a pastor, theologian, or spiritual sage. It was preventing me from this act of service. Imagine! The rule I had in my head was preventing me from this act of service. This is the very thing that Jesus Himself dealt with every day of His life. The religious leaders kept saying He wasn't following the rules, so He couldn't be from God, or He would follow the rules. Some people said things like, "Isn't he just a carpenter?" What right does a carpenter or an ESL teacher (like me) have to say about the Kingdom of God? Do you see? These were all the thoughts working against me. Funny thing is these were all thoughts. All the religious hypocrites were simply thoughts in my own head.
Then, something happened. I crossed a border. An invisible border, to be sure, but a border nevertheless. I woke up one morning and the following popped into my head, "I want to make my own decisions instead of the right decisions." Crazy, huh? But, this was a defining moment in my past year or two of spiritual healing.
So, what did I do? I started writing. I started writing these spiritual essays, and I waited to see if lighting would strike. I hadn't asked permission. No seminary, no pastor, no spiritual sage gave me permission. I had crossed a border inside my soul called legalism*.
There is a web of accountability associated with my writings that I want you to know about, however, because I also want you to know that any time we venture out to publicly announce any learnings we have in our spiritual adventures, we must have a network of trusted others who keep us grounded.
First, I generally wait for the Holy Spirit to prompt me in my writing. I try never to write unless I feel like an idea has come to me that is grounded in my experience. If I write about things I've never experienced then I write about things I know nothing about. A clear example of that right now is the issue of forgiving others. I feel like I have a very small glimpse into this spiritual category. I don't have much to write about on it currently, but wait expectantly for the time that I can write about it.
Second, I have a network of grace-oriented friends primarily through my church who love me in the middle of anything. They completely accept everything about me even though they challenge me, as well. So, I live in grace and truth with them as much as possible, even when my insecurities are riding high.
Third, I have a list of about a dozen or half-dozen books that I point back to in my writings of authors who have inspired me and whose ideas or counseling suggestions have been proven over time through others and through experience. Examples are: Boundaries by Cloud and Townsend. True Faced by McNicholl, Thrall, and Lynch. Wild at Heart and Captivating by John Eldridge and John & Stasi Eldridge. The Beloved by Nouwen. The Chronicles of Narnia and Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis.
In the end, however, I must emulate these geese who are crossing the street in front of these cars. They are cute and courageous, but if they knew any better, they'd probably never have crossed in front of those cars in the first place. When we cross the borders in our own hearts that free us from legalism* we are like these little geese.
In our lives, cars are on the approach, yet we step out in faith. We take risks. We stop waiting for permission. We believe in God's protection. We cross borders. We write Crossing Border Stories.
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*For my purposes, I define legalism as the written or unwritten rules imposed on individuals within a given sub-culture that point us away from authentic relationships with God and others.
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