Silent Concessions

"Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked . . .

or stand in the way that sinners take

or sit in the company of mockers,

but whose delight is in the law of the Lord,

and who meditates on His law day and night."

Psalm 1:1-2, NIV

I learned the above verses as a wee little boy. Life-giving and soul-boosting, the truth contained in them has served me well many a time throughout my life. Sadly, I chose not to heed them at sunset on an unforgettable November day in 1985 when I met a dark stranger in Port-au-Prince (from now on, I will refer to him as Y).

Choosing against heeding God's wisdom will often lead humanity to make some unwise concessions. As my story unfurled, that very scenario took shape.

Concession # 1: Walking in step with the ungodly

As mentioned in the previous post, Y offered to walk me home upon introducing himself to me. While going up the hill, he proceeded to share with me his observations on all kinds of events -- far too many, it seemed -- that took place in my life prior to our meeting. On the one hand, I was listening to Y, completely amazed by all he obviously knew about me and my family; on the other, I gave no indication that I was taking it all in . . . but I definitely was. Almost absentmindedly, I kept climbing the hill and inching ever closer to my home; yet, within, I was also wishing that reaching home would not be the end of this relationship.

In wishing so, I found myself slowly moving from a place of caution to one of accommodation or, even, passive acceptance. Our steps grew more synchronized. Y was no longer walking me home against my consent; we were walking together . . . step by step.

Walking in step with Y, though I did not know it at the time, naturally led me to stand on the edge of a precipice -- a brand new concession.

Concession # 2: Standing in the way taken by the ungodly

As we were walking, he was talking.
As he was talking, my heart stopped questioning.
As my heart stopped questioning, his words kept filling and refilling my motionless senses with a new notion that left me speechless. As my silence grew louder, it further dawned on me that I was not saying anything for fear of revealing that which was too shocking for me to admit -- I felt flattered, admired, and pursued . . . and I [gasp] liked it!

There I was, a minor, a mere 11-year old, listening to the flattering and seductive words uttered by an individual twice my age and yet I did not even shudder. "What can it hurt?" Thus, I counseled myself. Since nobody had ever paid me that kind of attention before and since I was so hungry for it, I saw no reason to guard my stance. So, I was lured into his web and my heart was drawn away from God's wisdom.

When we got close to my house, he said goodbye and requested my permission to walk with me again in the future.

I nodded my head and conceded once more.

Concession # 3: Sitting in the company of the ungodly

After parting ways with Y that evening, I went in but told nothing of my adventure to my family. When asked why it took me so long to get home, I fabricated a tale that shushed anyone and everyone who was hoping for more details. However, for days and days after that, I could not forget that walk.

Two weeks or so later, my sister and I came home one day and found two men in their twenties in conversation with Papi . . . and one of them was Y. The sight of him with my father and the apparent ease with which they were talking took me aback. He was obviously comfortable delving into scripture and discussing deep matters of the faith. In other words, he quickly earned the blessing of my father and I was allowed to have regular conversations with him alone.

Soon, his visits grew to be quite frequent. He would come with all kinds of gifts for Manmie and for me. We would sit together in the gallerie and he would talk to me for hours and hours. Y told me of things that would make my entire family shudder if they could really know that his true intention or hope was to have me all to himself. He filled my head and heart with promises of love, joy, happiness . . . and that he would take me to another island where I could be his boy for life.

I smiled.
I sighed.

I knew I could not concede then.
I knew I had to put an end to my deafening silence.
I knew I could no longer listen to the words that my itching ears enjoyed hearing.

With difficulty, I opened my mouth and said that the Word of God said something different for us. Y said he respected my stance but that he would wait as long as he would need. So, he began waiting for me . . .

For me, however, I tried to take matters into my own hands instead of relying solely on God's Word. I still refused to share any of that deep secret to my loved ones and, by so doing, invited more pain into my heart.

Precious Savior, help me to relinquish control and yield the reins of my life into Your beautiful and secure hands. Help me to follow You all the days of my life. Help me to guard my heart by walking in step with You alone, growing ever stronger and stronger in my faith. In Jesus' name, I pray. Amen.

A Deeper Hole

"Keep me from deceitful ways:

strengthen me according to Your Word."

Psalm 119:29, NIV84

It is time.
It is high time that I resumed the telling of my faith journey.

I checked my calendar today and confirmed that it has been ten months and a day since I wrote Deadly Exposure, the last entry pertaining to my story. Interestingly enough, the most writing I have ever done in my life occurred during these past ten months -- I completed three books, a 47-day Lenten devotional, daily Facebook posts and regular tweets, as well as personal messages to family and friends. Yet, I could not muster the courage needed to end the break from A Follower's Journey.

Why was the break so long?
What kept me away from this particular topic?

There were Summer 2012 projects to tackle, family memories to create, old friendships to rekindle, new songs to learn . . . and childhood recollections to, frankly, avoid at all costs. So, as my story neared my teen years, I nervously began seeing past events in my life as this body of dangerous water -- a tumultuous sea through which I grew more and more reluctant to wade for fear of drowning in shame. To be sure, I was insanely busy; still, I stopped sharing my story out of convenience. Recent events have jolted me back to the reality of an important job left unfinished.

So, here I continue . . .

*********

"Hello, there. What's your name?"

Interrupting my reverie, the strong baritone voice of a man in his early twenties greeted me. I had grown so accustomed to listening solely to my depressing thoughts that I failed, at first, to hear (let alone, heed) the voice. I finally glanced up in the direction of the voice and saw him. Behind his frame, the rays of the setting sun revealed the first thing I could truly see: an exuberant smile accentuated by blindingly white teeth. 

I clumsily muttered, "Lou," under my breath as my eleven year-old self began climbing the steep hill that would eventually lead me home. For some reason, I was both intrigued and worried. The stranger had a penetrating gaze that zapped me like static electricity and I felt as if he already knew me in a way that others had heretofore not been able to do. Yet, I could not remember if/when/where I had seen him before. I quickly surveyed the road and, seeing that we were alone, proceeded to quicken my pace a bit.

"Don't you wish to know my name? I would be happy to walk you home."

"There's no need, sir," I replied. "You don't know where I live and I can certainly find my way home all by myself."

"Oh, I know where you live, Lou."

My hyperactive imagination started running wild:

Could this guy be any creepier?
Could he be looking to kidnap me?
Could he be seeking to hurt me in some way?
Could there be a legitimate reason for him to talk to me?

Again, like a book in his hands, he took one look at me and told me exactly what I was thinking of him.  Seeing my alarmed eyes and sensing my discomfort, he reassured me that he was not planning on kidnapping or hurting me at all but that he needed to come clean. So, he told me his name and confessed that he had been watching me from a distance since I joined Boy's Brigade some years prior, simply waiting for an opportunity when he would see me alone so we could talk.

So, talk he did.
I, in return, was as silent as the grave.
As we walked and he talked, an unusual silence took hold of my entire being as if hypnotized by him and ensnared by his words.

This silence persisted the rest of the way to my house that evening.
This silence marked the life I led for far too long in regards to the relationship that was begun on that fateful evening.

This silence was all it took for me to be caught unawares and held captive by a menacing force that dug a hole deeper than I ever thought possible . . .

O Precious Master, save me from lying lips and deceitful tongues. Help me to remember that only Your Word provides the way of truth. Guide me to set my heart on Your laws so that I might not be put to shame. In the name of Jesus, I pray. Amen!