What comes through the cracks

After a number of August days with lots of rain and dark clouds, the sun was finally back and shining.

Funny how, with room-darkening blinds, sitting or kneeling in just the right spot, the sun peeks through one tiny crack so powerfully that it's blinding.

I've spent the last few days reflecting on my experiences in Texas as a background extra for the TV series The Chosen. I've been processing the dichotomy of it all, the feelings of both gratitude and disappointment.

Differing dynamics occur in life. It helps to take the time to look at them.

This vs that, compare vs contrast. It's often a worthwhile exercise.

Learning to be open and humble definitely helps to see the big picture more clearly.

Sometimes, in freeing up a tiny crack, the light sneaks in and blasts you.

I was able to see my disappointments in the exceptional experience as a background extra much differently in hindsight, and with some personal "excavation."  

I worked hard to approach the opportunity with little to no expectations, thinking it would shield me from potential disappointments. The days I spent there were days with limited filming. The "good stuff" started immediately the day after I was done. Understandably, I was disappointed I had missed out on events I'd hoped to be included in. If I had not had expectations, why the disappointment? I intended only to feel gratitude for being part of an important project. I had to take a hard look at myself.

That forced me to realize that I had never truly let go of my expectations. I had ignored them. I mentally set aside my expectations, rather than giving them the appropriate attention. They still lingered, so when I missed out on filming important moments, I felt a sense of defeat. A hint of unfairness crept in, like I had been discriminated against. I had planned for my physical needs quite thoroughly. I calculated every item I might need and tenaciously determined which ones I could comfortably carry in my bag. My physical needs were well met. My emotional ones, however, were neglected.

A bit of discouragement in missing out on being part of the beefier stories filmed was understandable. But disappointment had been a demon I had wrestled with since childhood. Staring the facts square in the face around my history with expectations and disappointments helped me redefine their place in my life.

In life, we will have disappointments. We will have defeat. We will have failures.

We will also have hopes and expectations. They all go hand in hand, dancing through our days on earth. How we handle that fact is pivotal for our well-being.

My personal belief in a higher, all-knowing, and all-powerful being leads me to believe that something greater than myself is always at work. My studies in building my faith have taught me that God is at work all the time, ultimately for the good of mankind. It has led me to lean on trusting Him in all things. My view is that a story began when He created us in His image to live with Him, reflecting His love, wisdom, and virtues. The free will He chose to give us, however, caused us to throw His plan way off.

So, if my faith is what I claim it to be, then I believe God has a plan, and that plan is good, all the time. I, therefore, have to be confident that His plan for me was not to be a part of the storylines being filmed the day after my time on set was done. And, truthfully, I find comfort in that. Knowing that I am playing a part in a story that began at the dawn of time, and that, no matter what the circumstances, I'll be okay, has become the cornerstone of my peace. I may not see the beauty from the ashes on this side of eternity, but I will see it, one way or another, someday.

This is the stuff that faith in a loving God gives me.

Score one for personal growth! Which I imagine is similar to what a tiny bud feels like pushing through a sliver of concrete.

But here's the thing - dark clouds block the sun. They don't extinguish it.

They can bring a ton of pouring rain. The kind of rain that makes everything soaking wet and miserable.

But that rain is needed for grass, trees, and flowers to grow. That rain is needed for streams and rivers to nourish all that lives in them.

We need it too. Storms are a part of the human experience, like it or not.

We may not like storms in our lives, but they nourish us in many ways. We may just have to open ourselves up to receive that nourishment.

Like flowers open up to gain the nourishment of rain and sun, opening ourselves up to the refining power of our storms can help us grow, too.

It won't come easily or naturally.

It's a choice, an act - one that requires learning and practice.

It can be incredibly hard.

Understandably.

No one likes having to endure personal storms. The darkness that clouds our minds. The pain that stabs at our hearts. Time seems to get stuck, as though we will never get out of the storm we find ourselves in.

The thing is, we can't let the pouring rain and dark clouds wilt our souls.

We can't let the dark win.

We must excavate, dig deep, look closely, and push through the concrete of chaos.

We must find the spot, the crack, where the sun can come in.

We must find the light.

When we do, it may be so bright, it's blinding.

It just may bring you

to your knees.