The Obstacle Course

“To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved.”
― George MacDonald



      I saw a little girl passing out trust like it was candy.  Why shouldn't she?  We are supposed to trust certain people and we should be able to trust everyone.  So as she danced around in her little dress, knowing that she is beautiful, it happened, one of the first trusts she handed out was shattered and spit back in her face like a lemon drop bullet shot straight from the puckered face of someone she thought she knew.  It happened again and again.  After that, it wasn't as easy to pass out candied trust without flinching.  What do you do?
     You build a big round fence, you disguise the gate and most importantly, you lock it.  You position yourself in the center, furthest from the reach of those who  approach your fence and ask to come in, to get closer, to actually know you.  You immediately go to work building an obstacle course that will have to be conquered before they can even stand near you.  And you make that obstacle course nearly impossible to conquer because... you will not be fooled again.  I am a professional and I can help you!
     No two obstacle courses are exactly the same.  The course is designed uniquely for the person running it.  First, the course is unique to the abused who is designing it.  The difficulty depends on the abuse, the amount of healing, the willingness and a knowledge of God.  Second, the course is designed according to the person who will be running it, like how we met, your position in the world (though titles mean nothing), what history I know of you and possibly, positive words from a mutual friend, though they don't count as much as most would think.  Even gender, age and what you drive can play a role.  Third, discernment has a lot to do with the initial decision to even design a course and give a person the opportunity to run through it and stays "tuned in" through out the course.  Fourth, the complexity of the course can be largely affected by the last person to run it.  (Don't point out this is not fair, because none of it is fair)
     Many will think they want to run the course until they get a look at it.  It is difficult enough, but when they hear the time it takes to run the course cannot be too long or to short, they may be asked to repeat the same act over and over again until we are sure it was actually accomplished perfectly or they could be kicked out at any time, no matter how much time they dedicated, they may decide to run away.  Did you smile when you should frown, cry when you should have laughed or did you actually sigh deeply some time during the course that gave the impression you were not pleased to be running it?  All reasons to rerun or be booted.
     Through healing, the wall of shame may be lowered, as well as the hurdles of loyalty, peace, and truth.  Through healing the rope swinging over the mud pit of lies, could decrease in diameter enough that a person could actually wrap their hands around it. 
     It all sounds ridiculous.  But we have to.  We have to know the truth of who you are.  What's the reward?  I have met several abused people who have no healing and can be vicious, but most of that is show.  I believe, by what I have seen in these people, at the end of that course, (which you may be called back periodically to run portions of ) there is the most loyal, loving, honest, person who would absolutely without thinking lay down their life for anyone who would actually spend the blood, sweat and tears on their course.   
     What happens when a person gets to the end of the obstacle course?  There is a celebration, but not what you would expect.  There is always the fear something was missed, though the runner does get the loyalty, the love, the devotion and honesty they have earned by running such a difficult course. We say little, because we don't want a runner to get a big head and think we can't live with out them.  We have proven time and time again we can live without anyone.
     I have a few runners, running their individual courses.  I have a couple who are so close to crossing the finish line that I hardly keep an eye on them.  But what happens when one, the first one, way out in front of everyone else, gets to the end and drives a spear right through your heart?  Shock.  I have to wonder why they even ran the course.  There can only be one thing that would drive a person to run such a difficult course and turn on you in the end.  Selfish gain.  Who would spend that much time and effort only to look you in the eye and say "You are not worth it."  Somebody who is broken?  Someone who can't handle loyalty, love, or even truth. 
     When you invest time and effort building a course, judging the progress and healing, letting down walls, lowering hurdles and changing out ropes, just to be crushed when the runner crosses the finish line and walks away, like conquering your course was the only goal, one thing happens: everyone is ushered out of your fenced area, EVERYONE.  It's like a bomb threat or a fire, "Everybody get out of my fence and get out now!!"
     Inside your fence looks like an abandoned carnival.  Wrappers blowing across the ground, hurdles left knocked over and heavy frayed ropes barely moving in the breeze.  Most of the people don't even stick around the fence, they wander off to see what's going on elsewhere.  The few who were almost finished with their courses wait outside the gate, knowing this has happened before and maybe, like last time the gate will swing open again. 
     You look around and you think about what it would take to increase the height of the walls, build bigger hurdles and change out the ropes, but then you slump down on an old bench and ask yourself, "Is it worth it?"  The scream from the pain is still drowning out most of your thoughts, even though you never let it escape your mouth.  The shock of realizing somebody got by your discernment convinces you to buy a stronger lock for the gate.  You refuse to look up at those who still linger outside of that gate.
     Something catches your attention.  Outside the gate, first in line to come back in and start over if He is allowed, is a man in a bright white robe and He is weeping.  No matter how you want to, you don't jump up and run to open the gate.   You just sit there.  You wonder how exactly He got shuffled out with the rest.  It doesn't seem fair to ask Him to run the course, but He is the most willing.  He will run it a thousand times, while smiling. 
     Suddenly you are standing at the starting line of your own obstacle course and He stands next to you.  He apologizes for the hurt your brother caused.  Then He not only walks through the course in his perfect timing, but He carries you.  He busts down the wall of shame as much as you will allow Him.  He steps over hurdles and walks on top of the mud pit of lies, carrying you every step of the way.  Jesus smiles as He speaks in a familiar, soft, and gentle voice...

    
“Forgiveness is not about forgetting. It is about letting go of another person's throat......Forgiveness does not create a relationship. Unless people speak the truth about what they have done and change their mind and behavior, a relationship of trust is not possible. When you forgive someone you certainly release them from judgment, but without true change, no real relationship can be established.........Forgiveness in no way requires that you trust the one you forgive. But should they finally confess and repent, you will discover a miracle in your own heart that allows you to reach out and begin to build between you a bridge of reconciliation.........Forgiveness does not excuse anything.........You may have to declare your forgiveness a hundred times the first day and the second day, but the third day will be less and each day after, until one day you will realize that you have forgiven completely. And then one day you will pray for his wholeness......”
― Wm. Paul Young, The Shack: Where Tragedy Confronts Eternity