Isn’t it weird how we really don’t know ourselves? I mean, I’ve spent nearly 20 years with me, myself, and I, and Lord knows there are days I couldn’t pick any of ’em out of a crowd. It’s almost like daily repetitiveness numbs the sensitivity of knowing yourself, I mean truly knowing every crevice and crack in the inner chambers of your heart like the back of your hand. It’s scary to wake up, look in the mirror, and stare at yourself… and realize that there is someone who knows you better than anyone else, including yourself.
My ramblings probably make no sense, so if you’re still with me, I’m already impressed. You know, I sometimes forget that my Father made me. I know that sounds silly, but I do it nonetheless. I forget the ways He has sewn each piece of me into who I am, how he hand-crafted me to be Brett Alexander Doleac, and I forget the right only He has to roam the trails of my heart’s deepest campus. It’s such a simultaneous comfort and fear to understand His owning my deepest wants and desires… even before I do. I’m discovering a deeper realm of His sovereignty in my life as of late, and I love/hate it.
Let me debrief my thought process for all the sane people out there who have no idea what I am talking about. About a week ago (maybe less), I had a wreck. The person in front of me decided to stop suddenly, whip off to the right, and skid across two lanes of traffic… all without the courtesy of a blinker. This genius’s driving skills forced me to slam on brakes rather abruptly, something that the car behind me failed to do. But nevertheless, no one was hurt, and it was not that bad of an accident when all was said and done. I came to realize this was God’s “threading of the needle” for the life lesson he would soon stitch for me.
It would be an understatement to say that a lot has been weighing on my mind– the past two weeks, especially. Many choices, affirmations, decisions, and goals were forced to be set thanks to life’s numerous curveballs. One night during prayer, I was doodling (yes, I doodle. Get off my back). Art has always been a form of stress-relief for me, a detox of sorts from reality’s void of creativity. Anyway, I was talking to God about the many turns and forks that I could see in my road ahead. As this airstream’s driver, I asked Him what He was doing with these obstacles and begged for guidance through my indecision. And then I looked down.
What you’re looking at is exactly what I saw. If you are a normal person, you probably have no idea what this is. Heck, I still don’t know what I was going for here. But that night, I unintentionally drew a self-portrait of my life, a polaroid picture of the unseen realm behind each and every weight on my heart.
When I saw the picture, it immediately reminded me of spiritual warfare. Notice the cross in the middle of the page, and notice the two “beings” (aka- squiggles of lines arranged in a funky way) on each side of the cross. I interpreted both to represent spiritual bodies, one angelic and one demonic. They are both hovering over two children, essentially fighting over them. But the children are not phased in anyway– why would they be? They sit at the foot of the cross, a place of redemption, healing, and understanding.
To be understood– it’s such a hard concept to understand in itself, isn’t it? I’m coming to find that God is developing the playing ground for the desires of my heart even when I don’t know that I want the things He’s working on. His love is a love that looks past any short-term pain, sorrow, or disappointment in order to produce what I truly want and desire… all because He understands me more than I do. He is teaching me what love really means. Love is not short-sighted. It does not take note of trivial difficulties when it’s painting part of the big picture.
“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life.” He knows me. He’s testing me. And He leads me. It may be without a blinker, but He leads. When life doesn’t look like I want it to, It STILL looks the way He wills it, and THAT’S what this heart truly wants.
I’m just an airstream driver… that sits in the safety of the foot of His cross, that gets in wrecks way too often, that knows war is constant, that likes to doodle, and that TRULY realizes for the first time that I am not the expert on myself.
Learning to Love without the blinker,