I just finished the book, Permission to Speak Freely, by Anne Jackson. It is real, honest, and transparent. I read the whole thing in less than 3 hours.
We all desire to be open, to be seen, to be known, but how often to we give each other the permission to speak freely. And how often do we take that leap ourselves?
It is funny this book showed up now. Aaron and I have been talking a lot lately about the things that we seem to cover up pretty well in church. The things that no one really wants to talk about. Even though we know we are to be the open door, always accepting, always loving, most of us at some point or another, or on one topic or another, struggle with judgment against others, or most likely against ourselves. We don’t like to be uncomfortable which honestly commonly is. We seem scared of the truth of what people are going through. Why? Maybe because it makes it more real. Maybe because it means we don’t have all the answers we thought we did. Or maybe because it strikes a cord too close to our own struggles.
“I realize fear isn’t only affecting me, but humanity as well. As I look around today, I see him hooking into many people I encounter. Their hearts are fighting for their dreams, yet fear claws away at their spirits, telling them their dreams are impossible. These people want to have a family, go back to school, quit their jobs and move to Africa, ask that girl out, volunteer at a shelter, stand up for justice, pose a question, right a wrong, or say hi to their neighbor, but Fear soaks into their bloodstream like a paralyzing virus and prevents them from taking a step in the beautiful, wonderful, difficult life in front of them, Fear wants to stop our stories. And with the pain and brokenness and hurt in this world, we simply can’t let it. The human race needs a hope and faith and light now more than ever.” Anne Jackson, Permission to Speak Freely.
I have to be honest, of course there are things I struggle with that I don’t want to talk about. We all have the desire to be seen as strong and put together. And probably a lot of times we think we are. I know I do. That is why my world is shaking once again. I am seeing myself for who I am and I don’t like some of it.
In the book Anne talks about the Gift of Going Second. When we are open and share our struggles, hurt & pain with someone, we give them a gift. We give them the gift of going second. We give them the gift of knowing that they aren’t alone and that there is someone to walk through it with them. It is a precious gift that brings hope, it brings power, it brings strength.
“Admission is just sharing something that is wrong so you can get it off your chest. Confession on the other hand is the beginning of transformation.”
I couldn’t write this with integrity without including some of my own confessions. I am in a limbo season right now where everything seems wide open. Where I am looking at life and trying to figure out where I want it to go. I am standing in a desert with nothing but shrubs around me wondering how I am going to build my Swiss Family Robinson tree house. I am at the place of accountability where you look at what is in your hand and ask “what am I going to do with it?” And all my fears come to the surface.
Fear of dreams not coming true. Fear of dreams coming true. Fear of making decisions and commitments. Fear of knowing that if I don’t then I guarantee my ineffectiveness yet not knowing if I have what it takes. Fear of discovering that who I am is not who I what to be and that the perfect image of what I want is unattainable. That the window that separates me and that girl is made from bullet proof glass. I am a dreamer and a visionary and I fear that it is all in vain and that God shouldn’t have bothered giving my all these thoughts because I wont do anything anyway.
That is the honest truth. Fortunately I am a fighter. I wont live with that. I know that all those fears are lies because I truly am made for something special. Now, the painful process of moving that truth from my head to my heart.
I am ready to rip off the door of that dark closet.
The one that seeps ribbons of fear through my mind.
The one that threatens me by its very presence
It is full of fear like a black oozing mess, waiting to burst open and soil everything
To expose me for the imperfect person I am
To stain my heart all over again
But I wont let it
It is a lie. The door is a lie. The room is a lie.
There is nothing hidden from God.
I will rip it off its hinges! Expose it!
What is there? Nothing. Nothing but a silent, dusty, empty room.
Light spills in and the sun rays sparkle as they trickle through the musty air.
Just a room
A room waiting for color. For love. For company.
It is a lonely place, hidden here alone. Not anymore.
I am hear. Claiming it. Facing it.
Choosing it as part of me. Accepting it.
I’m ready to live, to fill, to be free.
Amani
