Blaze of Glory

There is something to be said about getting kicked in the teeth.  

I mean, nobody wants that to happen but oh the lessons you learn. Nothing stings like not seeing it coming. Trusting with your whole heart only to be punched in the gut with betrayal, disappointment or maybe just flat out rejection. 

With all the good lessons learned—the ones you reason with your head—also comes the natural conclusions you draw and believe in your heart. The agreements you make with yourself deep down in the dark corners of your soul that take root and become beliefs about yourself, others and about the way love works. 

The heart develops something like a natural flinch that whispers “I’ve been down this road and guess what? I’m not going through that again."

What the mouth speaks about it’s all good and what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, the soul harbors another story and I’m finding it’s very often the one that governs our future actions. 

Loving people and opening up can hurt and so the wounded part pleads to play it safe. Closed. Unattached. Protected. 

These days I find myself with a rather toothless grin constantly weighing these two paths—the risky path of loving vs. the safe way of isolation. 

I hate these are on continuous scales of my heart, weighing the risk of engaging. But if I’m honest with myself, my biggest temptation is to retreat. Withdrawal. Protect myself from rejection. But I have to be equally honest and say truly it is one of my deepest needs—to be fully open and vulnerable with another person and loved completely for it, perhaps in spite of it. 

When I bring all this into the throne room of grace and ask God to shed some light on this dark and difficult place, I hear the truth. 

It hurts either way. 

My perceived way of safety, isolation and control may prevent others from hurting me, but in a sense I’m really hurting myself. Sure, I’m saving myself from the hurt other people might inflict, but I’m also separating myself from something I was created to do—love others. And let others love me. That’s why lonely hurts so bad. 

If it’s true that both paths involve hurting, then really I can choose my poison. There is some serious freedom that comes with that. 

But there is something else. Something more at stake that is bigger than my feelings, my heart or even my choices. I hear Him whisper, 

My glory is at stake here. 

In every decision I make to open up instead of shutdown, to be vulnerable instead of prideful, to love instead of protect my self, I’m displaying God’s image. In my choice to keep loving despite the risks, I’m reflecting His character. God says we look most like Him when we love like Him. (1 John 4:7-12) 

Who could understand my dilemma better?  When faced with it, He did not choose the road that leads to safe, pretty packaged life all tied up with ribbons and bows. He didn’t choose self-protection or self-preservation because life is hard and doesn’t play fair. He chose the hard, suffering, painful path that landed Him on a cross. He bled and died and has the battle scars to prove it. He chose love and He keeps on choosing it. 

How thankful I am that He didn’t retreat because loving people is hurtful. It makes me see my battle wounds in a different light. Jesus was shot down in a blaze of glory. Painful yes, but effective and powerful and life altering for the whole world. 

This is my theme song now as I weigh the paths—thank you Bon Jovi! Sure, I could play it safe, retreat and live in my protective bubble. Alone. Sidelined. Ineffective. 

Or I could—queue the music—go down in a blaze of glory, yes taking on some serious wounds. But along with those scars, I’ve got some glorious stories of transformation—my own and others—and some incredible experiences of living out my God given opportunity to reflect His glory in this world. To be used by Him even if it ends painfully, knowing that my feeble attempts to love are met with God’s power to accomplish His plan.  

If I’m going down either way and I have a choice in the matter, I want to go down in a blaze of love. A blaze of glory. 

In each seemly insignificant relational quandary, there lurks the opportunity to be on fire for God in this world. His heart. His purposes. His glory.  I think my question is do I want to be in the battle or nursing my wounds on the sidelines? The choice is always mine. 

Hurt is along both paths. His glory is only along one. 

I’m thankful He overlooks my superficial desire for easy and safe and invites me to join Him in the risky, messy business of loving people. 

It’s worth the risk.