Peace Out

It's odd to me that there are some things from my youth that I can remember as if they occurred yesterday while other things I can't remember no matter how hard I try. A lot of the memories I have from my youth revolve around two groups of people ... my family and my friends from church. For as far back as I can remember, church was a big part of my family's lives ... Daddy always said if the church doors were open for a service or an activity, our family would be there. I especially remember playing on the girls' church softball team ... second base, to be exact. Just typing those words brings memories crashing through my mind ... the softball field in White Oak, my friends on the team, our coach Kenny, sliding into third base, getting hit in the throat by a line drive, hitting my first home run, the night we won our first tournament.

Though I remember those events, those times and those dear people so very well, I can't remember whether or not my good friend Cindy had a thing about peace symbols when we were teenagers. I know she loves anything with a peace symbol on it now, but I haven't a clue as to whether or not she did when we were young. Cindy and I fell out of touch for many years, but when we reconnected a few years ago, it didn't take long for me to learn that she is a huge fan of peace symbols ... a huge fan. I've tried and tried to remember what her room in her parents' house looked like and if there were posters of peace symbols hanging on the walls. I recall her parents' home quite well; in fact, I went to their house to visit with them after church when I was in Tennessee the first year after the miracle of Facebook brought Cindy and me back in contact with one another. But, no matter how much thought I put into it, I can't remember one single thing about Cindy's room or how it was decorated.

Peace is something that has alluded me for a very long time ... perhaps even my entire life, but especially over the last couple of years. And one area that has been particularly peace-less for me is that of friendships and relationships I've lost ... so many people who held such a dear place in my heart are no longer a part of my life, nor am I a part of theirs. I've got a lot of sweet memories of events and times spent together, however, that will never leave me. A couple of weeks ago, I was invited by some former church friends who moved to North Dakota a few years back to come to a 4th of July party at another church member's home. I know how a lot of people from the church feel about me now, so my initial reply was a resounding thanks but no thanks. But ... bless my dear friend's heart ... she assured me that her guest list was filled with "safe" people and told me again and again how much she and her husband wanted to see me. So, last night, I summoned all the courage and bravery I had within me and went to the party. I seriously thought I was going to have to pull over and throw up on the way there, and as I walked toward the driveway where most of the guests were gathered, I was chanting, "This is so not a good idea ... turn around and run before they see you ... so not a good idea." It seems as though I'm saying the following words a lot now ... I was wrong.

The people who were there last night really are safe people, and they really seemed genuinely happy to see me. And it was good to see them ... to laugh with them, to listen to them, to catch up on their lives, and even to answer some of their tough questions about how much my life has changed this year. And get this ... they let their kids hug me and even sit on my lap and talk to me. If they had any fears that I would somehow gay up their children by being around them, they sure never gave any indication of that to me. I loved watching all the little kids as they watched their dads shoot fireworks, blow up watermelons with firecrackers and launch floating lanterns into the night sky. I loved talking with a young man who once played guitar at one of my speaking engagements ... talking about some of the big stuff in his life, the hard stuff, the stuff that is molding him into a strong, honest and confident young man even though he doesn't see it just yet. But most of all ... most of all ... I loved the feeling I had as I drove home last night ... you know the one ... the feeling you get when you know you've just taken some baby steps toward peace ... finding it for yourself and making it with others.

Someone asked me last night what I would choose if I could only select one word to describe the emotion I've felt most often throughout the last months. I didn't even have to think for a millisecond before I said, "Fear," and I haven't been able to get my answer off my mind all day. See, here's the thing ... peace is what I've been longing for, but fear is my ever-present companion. And I'm not talking my fear of airplanes or grass or storms ... I'm talking fear of judgment, condemnation, rejection and unkind words. I was plain old downright afraid last night to face those people, but I learned a couple of things while I was there. Fear and shame can work together to destroy a person ... the fear of being wounded by others and the shame of feeling like a failure because of who I am are much like putting fireworks inside of a watermelon and lighting the fuse ... something is bound to explode sooner or later. But peace? Forgiveness, understanding and acceptance can combine to begin the process of healing and bring peace ... even if it's just one tiny little baby step at a time.

So to those of you at the party last night ... thank you. Thank you for inviting me, including me, making me feel welcome, hugging me, talking with me, sharing your laughter, opening your home and your hearts, and most of all ... for loving me still. Life is so very short ... peace out ... peace ... out ... peace ... out. Think about that one for a while, friends ... think about that one for a long while.