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!