The Wall

It stands nearly four stories high and the evidence of years of assault can be seen in the green tin. The facade has been assailed by "bombs" and "bullets" while the sounds of anger or passion flow through the air.  Yet after decades of attack this wall still stands.  To some it is the adversary and to other it is an inviting friend, still to everyone it is imposing and intimidating. And now to this day, a wall has become an identity or the defining part of a place that is so much more than this amazing bulwark. So now when people say Fenway Park the first thing that come to mind . .. . . the Green Monster.   

I am not one for finding the prototypical analogy, except for the times I turn around and run into it face first and get knock flat on the floor.  You see for me the wall is, well . . . . . .  "It's complicated".  It is in those words that my entire existence seems to have been caught up in. Who am I . . . "It's complicated"; how do I find the right person to love for the rest of my life . . . . . "It's complicated"; what is really broken inside of me . . . . . "It's complicated"; why am I so hurt and angry . . . . ."It's complicated";who is this God, this Jesus and what does that have to do with me. . . . .(sigh) "It's complicated".   How does someone go from feeling they are simple to being complicated in mere moments?   To be honest it is not that simple.  This wall of who I have become was constructed brick by brick by brick.  With each brick cemented in who I am or was or should be has been made secondary to the wall that dominates the landscape.  

When you walk into Fenway Park, it does not matter from what entrance you enter, the first thing you look for is left field and Green Monster.  Everything else seems minor compared to it.  For a moment you forget the history of the place, the excitement of the game, or even how green the grass is.  All you see is the big freakin wall.   

Yet walls have a very specific purpose.  Walls are made to either keep something out or to hold something within.  For instance my house walls are to keep myself safely tucked away for the elements, to keep the heat in (at this point), and to keep my possessions sheltered.  On the other hand a sea wall is to keep the ocean out and protect people for the raging seas.  Now if we look closer we see a common thread in any walls, they are to protect. 

But my walls are complicated.  I know that I have built these walls to protect my heart and soul, yet I despise them to the core of my being.  I have neatly cocoon myself behind these thick stallworths and found myself locked in a prison.  C.S. Lewis once wrote that there are only two places we are safe from the pain that accompanies love in the wake of love lost.  One is Heaven where love is complete and the other is Hell where love is absent.  Yet if we build these towers of protection in order to never be hurt or at least deflect most of it away, then we run into the inevitable possibility we may never see the hopes, dreams, and love of life come into our world.  And even worse this world may never see us, they will only see the wall.  So when some says "remember Travis", the only thing they will remember is the wall of how complicated I was, how hard it was to get pass them to see . . . me.    

I once heard a little girl say "Love is not complicated, we just make it that way."   That makes me think of all the people I could have loved and chose not to because it was complicated.  Or how the walls I have taylored to control my world have pushed people away because it is complicated.   So what happens when you think love is complicated.  Sometimes it makes you look for the BBD (bigger better deal), or the love you receive is never enough, and in some instances, even when you know you love someone . . . you think that person isn't what love is.  Or worst of all . . . . you give up.

Perhaps this day a little angel will spray paint "GO FORWARD" on my walls.  Because she knows the only way to go forward is to escape my comfortable prison in which I am secure in ignorance and to go be in the wild where love roams free.   I want climb out, break through, or tear down these walls and go forward. . . . and it is going to be hard to let so much go.  But in the end I don't live there anymore.  

Let love in!