Who cares?

From my journal more than two years ago...seems relevant.

In all honesty, I am a profoundly needy person. I hate even the sound of that confession, but it's true. Sometimes I muster the courage to stop and reflect on who I am and where I'm at in life and the things I discover surprise me.

I need…to be right. I need to look good. I need to achieve success. I need to know people think I'm important. I need to be forgiven, I need to love. I need to eat, sleep, and exercise. I need a titanium mountain bike. I need a custom chopper. I need a vacation. I need to paint my house. I need to impress. I need to rescue others. I need to say smart things, do good things, and conceal the bad things I've already done. I need. I need. I need…

And my needs wear me out.

I'm so tired. My days are such a blur. My nights are filled with fitful sleep. I have plans and dreams and I'm working hard to see them fulfilled. I'm doing all that while living in a family that (I fear) is at times, as tired as I am. And never mind my plans and dreams. What about the relentless barrage of unpredicted, ill-timed and overwhelming crises that come our way? Relatives die, bills go unpaid, cars break down, kids break limbs! I don't know how to make sense of it all!

I am so confused.

And my confusion is deep and troubling. What do I do? Where do I go? Whom do I trust? These and so many other questions swirl around in my soul like an emotional tornado uprooting all my assumptions, upending all the things I thought were reliable and tossing them across the landscape of my heart. So often, I sit in a numb kind of despair; like the people you see on TV after a storm has destroyed their neighborhood. I sit in silence and confusion. I need to get up and do something but the "something" is a mystery and the energy to "get up" is completely gone.

And it scares me.

I'm afraid. My weariness and confusion lead to a fear that ranges from mild discomfort to a raging panic. I fear failure. I'm afraid of rejection. I'm scared to trust. I hide from intimacy. My wife feels my fear and my children bear the brunt of it. My emotional defense systems are armed with sophisticated cloaking devices that make it almost impossible for anyone to detect that I am scared to death. One such devise is anger. It's highly effective at hiding the fears that plague me. You see people tend to stay away from stern and brooding men; anger transmits a signal that says "warning, step away from the daddy!" The resulting isolation makes it unnecessary to admit - much less deal with the fear inside me that is expressed in anger.

But this leads me to stray.

With clock-like precision, anger leads to a desire to escape. Unchecked, anger seems to draw me towards self-destruction. I can't tell you how many people I have watched fall into the current of self-destructive, self-defeating and self-abusive behavior. I'm tempted to write their stories because that means I won't have to write mine. But my conscience won't let me do that. My story is simple: unmet needs drive a kind of spiritual exhaustion that generates confusion which leads to fear which triggers a well-practiced habit of escapism. It comes in various flavors like sexual temptation, workaholism, selfish pursuit of hobbies, exercise, disobedience and outright rebellion. This is not necessarily a linear sequence, but more like the view from the top of a moral dumpster.

And then Shame comes to visit.

Once I've taken the plunge into that dumpster, my loneliness ends; at least for a moment. But not in the way anyone would hope or expect. Soon shame is at my side. He is both hideous and brilliant. Hideous for his ability to recall every past failure and mistake and brilliant for his skill and timing in the way he reminds me of those things. Shame is my intimate enemy. He knows where the wounds lie and he is more than willing to rub salt in them. He is the one who makes me believe that most damning lies; "you are worthless, you have no value, no purpose… and no one cares!"

Soon I am all alone.

In fatigue and despair I nod my head in agreement. I AM alone. And the experience is excruciating. And the effect hammers away at the core of my being.

Insecurity haunts me.

It's hard enough at this point to contend with the immediate pain much less think of eternity. Will I always swim in this current of insecurity? Let's face it, my failures are just that...MINE. And the ugly truth is that I can't escape from me. Peter Pan tried to catch his shadow. I'd like to sever mine! And the brilliant light of the truth of God only makes the shadow that much clearer.

Will I ever be free?

Will there ever be rest.

Will I ever be truly loved?

Does anyone care?

The Lord is my shepherd. I have everything I need." (Ps. 23)

Yes. Yes. Yes..and YES!!!