Okay, I confess. Lately I’ve been spending way too much time on Facebook. How do I know? Because among other random results, I know that I should rename myself either Arwen or Mary and live on a farm in Paris because I’m a writer with a Raven spirit and red aura. My eighties theme song is “Sweet Child of Mine” by Guns and Roses. The best word that describes me is impulsive- w.h.a.t.e.v.e.r. If none of this works out, I can always become a unicorn or Bruce Springsteen. And I hate to admit that the food that best describes my personality is hot buttered rolls.
Now, there is absolutely nothing wrong with the quizzes on Facebook. They are fun to play. I laugh when they are off base and pause when eerily accurate. But, when I noticed myself taking one quiz over and over again because I didn’t like the results….I knew something was up.
So maybe it was time to take yet another quiz?
I had questions that needed some answers. Why was I so upset to be told, “You are Rajesh” from Big Bang Theory? Well, okay…so besides the obvious. But really, why was it so important for a quiz to accurately define my personality? And well yes, my gender? Why did I care what BuzzFeed or Zimbio told me about who I am, my dreams or how to live my life? Was I looking for validation from a Facebook quiz? Why was I drawn to take every test that popped up on my newsfeed? What was going on with my heart?
Bottom line. Fear. Specifically, fear of failure. I am in a season of life where I have been invited to play in ways I have only yet imagined. Stepping out to make dreams come true with the joy and privilege of creating who I long to become. And I got distracted. Fell back on old patterns of self sufficiency and soon heard those old and familiar accusations. “You do KNOW this will never happen.” “No one really cares about you or what you have to say.” “You don’t know what you’re doing anyway.” All too easily I turned my face towards fear.
Oh my…. Could it be? It’s not failure. I fear joy! Sigh… Instead of allowing my heart to hope for joy, I have killed it by playing around with pain. Why? Sadly, pain is all too familiar.
Faintly, I could hear God’s voice in the background. “Robyn, I delight in you. Oh my child, what we can do together. Come and have some fun with me!” He sounded so very far away. Besides, there were so many other noises. It was pretty difficult to hear…
Wait! Did I hear Him call me child? As a little girl surrounded by friends, play was thrilling! I didn’t worry about failure, I simply kept on trying. Over and over and over again, that was the fun and work of play. It required failure, grief, fear, and risk. And it was filled with blessing, joy, courage and adventure. Win or lose, I remember being lost in time, fully present in the moment and shocked that we were being called inside for the night. Plus, I couldn’t wait for tomorrow to do it, yes, all over again. That is joy, pleasure, delight, hope. Simply glorious!
Was God inviting me to play with the heart of a little girl? Well, I had certainly forgotten all about her lately. Oh my, did she ever play with passion and desire. And okay…more than a smidgen of stubbornness. Gosh, I so need play! Always have, always will. And I need to play in community. Not isolated. Or hiding in fear or killing joy on Facebook.
No, I’m not getting off social media – although I am limiting my time. Yes, I will continue to have fun playing games on Facebook. This week I am a daisy and a yellow crayon. I laughed when yet again the results read “Rajesh”. And I grieved my participation with accusation and confessed playing round with old unhealthy patterns. I’ve noticed when my heart fears joy and I begin to set myself up for pain. That’s my queue to stop the noise and listen to truth. Grateful to say I have landed consistently in the tension between pain and joy.
And I have turned my face.
Faithfully, God was once again much closer than I thought. A simple turn and well fought battle for my face. And oh my, is He ever ready to play!
Besides a wise Jedi like Yoda knows, alone one cannot do. “May THE FORCE be with you!” 🙂
Robyn Whitaker lives in Texas with her beloved husband of 32 years. She has an adventurous heart that is learning to breathe. Lover of truth, seeker of story, aspiring author and newborn dreamer, this mother of three is in search of redemption and living her Kingdom purpose. Robyn writes here.