Labyrinth

Today I had an experience that I didn't really want to shout to the world, but I also wanted to remember it vividly and use it to help others struggling with fear the way I am.

Recently I've been pushed to challenge my fear of anything mindfulness. For those who don't know, my previous marriage disintegrated from 2005 to its demise in 2015, and during that time, our family had really immersed itself into mindfulness, touched on mysticism, and just any alternate forms of spirituality. Although the cracks in the marriage itself aren't a direct result of mindfulness spirituality (that happened due to my lack of boundaries and selfishness), anything mindfulness (meditation, yoga, affirmations, just sitting quietly, acceptance, "flowing down river", quiet piano music, even Oprah!) scares the crumbs out of me because now that I have Jesus, I don't want ANYTHING swaying me or trying to sway me from Him. He's my rock.

So . . . . fear. Of everything pretty much.

For three and a half years (since my rebirth in Christ) I have put up great walls: refused to listen to anything other than Christian music, only watch movies with a Christian theme, read Christian books (fiction or non), leaned toward Christian friends. Some say "stuck up" or "secluded". I say "scared".

During my women's group this week we were challenged to explore the idea of a labyrinth. Now this is after the breathing exercise we did before our breakout session Tuesday night. The breathing session which took me about an hour to pull myself back from the cliff because all I could visualize was the breathing exercises that I did during times of fear, anger, grief when I had my back firmly turned on my Jesus and my feet firmly planted in mindfulness.

Labyrinth's, to me, had always had a mystic feeling to them. There was always some reason why a labyrinth felt eerie. One reason for this feeling is because I had always used the words labyrinth and maze synonymously - and maze just draws up a LOT of horrid thoughts- mainly, the idea of being lost. But after researching, I discovered the difference between the two. A true labyrinth has only one way through, with no trickery. Just a path. After more research, I also discovered that the floors of old cathedrals across Europe and the Americas often sported labyrinths for people to use to walk and pray. And yet there were also many pagan origins of labyrinths as well. And then I was lead back to the book of Romans 14, which rocked me to my core this morning.

I've READ and applied this chapter many times over, but today it spoke deeply to me. Verses five through eight read

 One person considers one day more sacred than another; another considers every day alike. Each of them should be fully convinced in their own mind. 6 Whoever regards one day as special does so to the Lord. Whoever eats meat does so to the Lord, for they give thanks to God; and whoever abstains does so to the Lord and gives thanks to God. 7 For none of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone. 8 If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord.

There's no rule that says you can or cannot walk a labyrinth. There's no rule that says don't meditate, affirm, or do yoga. All God wants is you to glorify him with your whole heart. The labyrinth, in Christian history, was used to walk and pray - to keep one focused on the path to the middle. To meet with God, dwell in the center, and then bask in the beauty of the experience on the way back. It meant so many other things to the pagans, but for the Christians (who often take pagan fads and make them God-glorifying, even today) it was a way to draw closer to God.

I don't have a labyrinth. I wish I did because I so desperately want to try one now (A trip to a Chicago cathedral is in my future this winter). But I do have a bike, and we have a trail. My plan was to ride about 2 1/2 miles into a neighborhood, stop and rest and pray and then ride back.

God had other plans.

I have a history with this trail. I used to ride this trail about fifteen miles daily in the summer of 2015. Part of my ride would be crying, listening to very loud music that was meant to empower me, and then listening to books on my phone. The last book I read on my phone was Fifty Shades of Gray. Yep, while I was biking. I think I read the first two books before I was discovered meeting my boyfriend on the trail on my way out.

Then my bike rides . . . and my life . . . stopped.

Today I rode my bike out, intent on taking a left turn onto the trail that would lead me into neighborhoods across Orchard Road, but the Spirit kept nudging me and then literally kicked me right. And off I went. Down the trail I haven't ridden in four years.

Today I wasn't wearing headphones, so I was free to be mindful of the sounds of the trail, including the birds, wind in the trees, pounding footsteps of runners in front of and behind me. Because my mind was not distracted by a story plot or a song to empower me, I was also free to be mindful to watch carefully where I was riding - in fact it was safer that way because the trail was wet, and there were acorns and apples I had to avoid. That caused me to feel the water hitting my back or being thrown up from my front tire and hitting my shirt. I was being mindful, and I knew my goal was to get to about two-and-a-half miles and turn back.

As I was riding, I wondered if God would stop me at the top of the bridge over Galena. I thought it would have been pretty poetic if He had because it was the top of the bridge - like climbing a mountain or jumping a hurdle. But no - he kept me going, past the church and a set of teenage boys walking the trail. Past walkers with dogs and a runner . . . and then I realized where He was taking me.

He was taking me to a bridge. I hated this bridge - even when I WAS in great shape, I hated it. The bridge between Aurora and Sugar Grove, pretty much - over Route 56. And after looking at my watch I realized I would hit two-and-a-half miles at the top of this bridge. God is such a good God.

And up I went.

And there I stopped. And there I met God. He reminded me that I was forgiven. That this trail was just a trail - not a scarlet letter walk. That my struggle with fear is going to have to stop. That it was time to GIVE IT UP. That I was trustworthy because I was a child of God. I expressed how scared I was of messing my life up again. How badly I wanted my husband to continue to trust me - even thought he knows how badly I messed up my first marriage. And even though he's NEVER expressed that he didn't trust me. I believe in my whole heart that he does. I am afraid. But God said that his perfect love has been waiting to wash away that fear. Why won't I let Him?


Up there I gave it up. And his love washed over me and I felt empowered without my music. And I felt tingly and loved without reading love stories. And I felt released from anxiety - even if just for five minutes. And somebody driving under the bridge honked and waved at me. Maybe that driver knew what I was experiencing and wanted to give me a spiritual high five.

And then I got on my bike, thanked God for his grace, love, and mercy, and started back.

Will I fear again? Yes, of course I will. I am human. I am broken. Will I read Romans 14 more often? Yes, in fact now it's on my list of scriptures to memorize so that I won't have to look it up each time. Will I remember today as a step in my growth? Oh yes. Will I ride that trail again? You bet. Will I meet up with Jesus on that bridge? You bet I will. That's our bridge now.