Did you ever watch the second Indiana Jones movie? The one with the Temple of Doom? I wasn’t allowed to watch it as a child. Due to my frequent nights of sleeping on
my parent’s bedroom floor, my mom knew that the scene when the priest or rabbi
or whoever he is pulls the heart out of his prisoner would be too scary for me.
But nine-year-old me knew that I could handle it. You should’ve known me then. I was
the wisest, most intelligent, know-what’s-best-for-me kid on my block. I did
smart things as a young, Power Ranger loving, elementary school blondie. I did
things like jump out of my mom’s jeep while she was driving, and refused to pee for three days just to prove that I could do it. (Too much info? Maybe.)
But oh, was I wrong about watching this movie. My best
friend and neighbor, Jesse, invited me over to spend the night one Friday and
we had planned to watch the Temple of Doom. I was
ready; I told myself. After all, I was a big girl. I was older than my two
brothers and I got to stay up until nine p.m. The movie started and the
beginning was good; a little scary at parts, but I was managing to keep my
cool. And then that particular scene came. The ‘rabbi’ reached his hand through
the prison bars and started to stick his ever so strong fingers through the
prisoner’s gooey, and almost playdoh-like skin. But Jesse and I didn’t make it
through the heart extraction. We automatically started screaming and ran into
her closet, pulling the door closed. We curiously peered through the wooden
slats of the sliding door at different moments trying to see if it was over,
but we couldn’t block out the prisoner’s blood-curdling screams. It wasn’t
until Jesse’s brother heard the ruckus, came in her room, and turned off the TV
that we stopped screaming.
I tried everything I could to block out that scene from my
vision and hearing, but the TV still blared on. No matter how much I screamed
or covered my eyes, the movie was still on, playing as if its audience actually
wanted to watch it.
Moments like these still happen in our adulthood, when we
try to block out God screaming for us by covering our eyes or plugging our
ears, but He still gets through. I was reminded of this childhood memory the
other night when I was woken up by a car alarm at 1:30 in the morning. It was a
scary experience for adult me, but in a different way. I wasn’t having bad
dreams in my sleep; I was living the bad dream! I was simply trying to get what
every grown man or woman desires-precious sleep. But there I was, lying in
between my three other female teammates squished onto three mattresses (you do
the math), listening to that alarm blare.
Honk, Honk, Honk! went the alarm for
approximately one minute and 26 seconds, followed by a brief, tease of an intermission
of four seconds, and then repeated itself, over and over again. I scrambled
under my pillow, found my earplugs, and shoved them in my ears. Honk-Honk-Honk
went the music to my ear, only now in a muffled tone.
Letting out a sound ‘hoorump,’ I rolled over to my teammate
Emily and watched her put in her iPod. No
way is anyone sleeping through this. I thought to myself as I looked around
the room and saw my teammates rustle around their beds and shove things into
their ears to try to block out the noise. But nothing worked. So I did something.
I let out one frustrated growl, got up, scrambled around the room for some
proper clothes and was determined to find someone to turn off that terrible
sound.
I managed to find my long, black Columbia skirt, and my
teammate’s tie-dyed white tee (which I put on backwards), and marched
downstairs to find security.
With my hair in a messy bun tied up above my head, my shirt
on backwards, and my leftover mascara smeared under my sleepy eyes, I quickly raised
my finger and explained to the security guard what was going on.
“You need to find the tenant who owns this car and get him
to turn off the alarm.” I said in my most frustrated, but commanding voice. I
don’t know if you know me enough to know that I don’t do well when I’m woken up…
period. Much less by a car alarm. So
the officer did as he was told and the most annoying sound in the world ceased.
I got in the elevator with success written all over my face, and rode up to the
sixth floor, finally feeling like I could sleep. I laid my head on my pillow
and fell into a deep, restful slumber.
The next day I thought about this experience and how it
related to our relationship with God. I was actually in the middle of going
down a path that God had not chosen for me, and trying to shove as many things
in my ears as I could find and wear tinted glasses to avoid the truth. I had
accepted a job that was not in God’s plan for my life, and was trotting along
trying to ignore the ‘Wrong Way’ signs that he was putting in my path. Don’t
get me wrong; this job was incredible. It was more than incredible, more than I
had wanted and a lot of what I had dreamed for my life. But it was my dream and
not God’s dream for this next season of my life. It was wonderful and good and
pleasing to furthering the Kingdom, but for some reason, God said no to it. He
said no to my plans. And I was standing in the closet, screaming, trying to
block out his tender nudges in the opposite direction.
So I gave in. I stopped running to the things that I had
deemed good for my life and started running towards the mystery of God’s design
for my life. And that’s where I currently find myself. No plan, no job, and no
clear direction for the next steps after the race. The only bit of information
I have is that God said to trust Him. So
I’m actually going to practice what I preach and trust that God will provide. He will provide a way for
these next steps I need to take in my life and give me a dream to chase. He’s
provided in abundance throughout this crazy adventure across the world, so I
think He can manage it in America. As
soon as I released this to Him, I was able to sleep peacefully. The anxiety of
going into a new chapter of my life without the Spirit going before me was lifted
and I was filled with inexpressible peace. I stepped outside of the closet and
turned off the TV. I went downstairs and notified security. I rested in God’s will. And it felt good!
