I’m a nerd. Let’s start there.
Being a nerd isn’t even an insult, it’s a badge I wear with pride. Lord of the Rings, Marvel, D.C., Sherlock, Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, Chronicles of Narnia, comic con, comic books, fan theories, memes, gifs, Pinterest boards… all of it. I’m just a nerd – and I love it. Well let me tell you something I’ve learned about being a nerd: a lot of it is trying to fill a void in my spirit; and it doesn’t work.
I’m 26 years old. I think my parents started reading me “The Hobbit” when I was around 11 – and because I’d begged to see The Fellowship and they said I was too young without reading the books. I’d read all of The Chronicles of Narnia (multiple times) by age 9, and was pretty much a ravenous reader throughout my childhood. Being a nerd wasn’t something I would call myself or identify with until my early/mid 20s, and it ripped a hole in my heart; or expanded the one that was already there.
Basically I found people I identified with that carried my struggles, misunderstandings, hurt, and pain, and that made me feel. I felt understood. I felt seen. I felt like I had a little bit more of a place in the world because I had something I could relate to – I wasn’t alone. I threw myself into finding ways we identified with each other and escaping from reality. It didn’t even matter that they weren’t real. I was trying to numb my pain by escaping reality into a world where those problems didn’t exist.
And it doesn’t have to stop there. You don’t have to be a nerd to love yourself some memes, but aren’t they kinda the same thing? How self deprecating are memes anyway? They’re things about ourselves we laugh at and appreciate, but usually because they resonate with a pain and emptiness in ourselves that leaves us hollow. (This breakthrough of truth provided by Ashley Brumbaugh on my bed in a hostel in Mendoza. Thank you, Ash.) It’s just another way of finding someone or something to resonate with us; to fill the hole that just kinda feels bottomless. I guess we’re all a little broken, aren’t we?
So let me tell you the thing I’ve finally figured out: it doesn’t just leave you empty, it leaves you more empty. The more you dig to find your belonging in things and people – whatever your vice is (but especially when it’s imaginary) – the deeper the hole becomes. There’s an ache when you come back to reality that not only did it not satisfy, it’s not even real. I’ve never done drugs before, but it sounds a lot like that. Now let me tell you what I’ve learned, and I actually learned this in the midst of some of my worst pain; I just didn’t get it until the Race.
The issue is the pain is already there. This “expanding the hole in my heart” I keep referring to is that emptiness we all identify with when we are finally alone with the solitude of our own selves. It’s the “God shaped heart that only God can fill” you hear some preachers referring to. The problem is, even filled with Jesus, that ache is still there; and it won’t ever go away.
My pastor, Louie Giglio, said “Jesus mellows out your highs and lows” – and it’s true. Knowing the Father mitigates extremes, pain, hyper-excitement, and all the rest because of the peace of His Presence that passes all understanding, but the truth is we are living in a place that’s not our home and we are longing to get back to it; to Him. If we could find fulfillment on this earth we’d never long for heaven. If we could find complete satisfaction here we’d never long for more of Him. I read this book right before the Race called “Scary Close” by Donald Miller. Although entirely not what the book was about, he said one little line that blew me up before I left. Amidst his talking about the reality of marriage and the value of vulnerability, he said that he’d looked to prestige, women, and relationships to fill the ache. He didn’t marry until he was almost 40, when he finally learned the filling of the hole in his heart would never be the woman he was sapping it from – that was what killed the relationship. The the line that blew me up is as follows: “I knew I couldn’t get rid of the ache, I just wanted to sit in it with [his wife] Betsy.”
I read this book twice before the Race and once more since being on it (it’s funny, powerful, and easy. I do recommend.) But that line and the resolving of the ache didn’t hit the road for me until the Race. It’s so easy to be here and be a missionary and be expected to be full and connected all the time and condemn yourself for feeling the ache. Being here and feeling it feels wrong. It feels shameful. I knew nerddom was high on my “default coping mechanisms list” (who am I kidding, it’s number one) so I left all my movies at home. I was not about to spend my Race escaping and watching movies. I’d waited too long to do thing thing and wanted to do it right too much to spend it escaping watching movies. I waited 6 months to pick up my first nerd book and I was sitting in my hammock in South Africa and I felt guilty about it. I prayed, “Father, is this ok? I just wanna escape for a while” and He goes, “why would you wanna escape from this?” Touché… So after getting my heart right and getting rid of the shame, I read for like an hour and loved it. It was a fabulous day, and it changed me.
Incorporating nerdiness back in moderation has been way easier than I expected after a 6 month fast, and whenever I feel the ache to escape, I deliberately don’t. Instead I’ve begun doing this thing I started calling “breathing Him into the ache.” It can be triggered by anything: pain, loneliness, a hurting heart for the girls, stress about the future… anything that makes me want to numb. I sit there and go, “Father, I’m feeling this right now and it’s hard. I know you’re not gonna take it away, but will you sit with me?” And I talk to him about stuff or tell Him how I’m feeling or sing or just sit with Him. It doesn’t remove the ache – nothing ever will – but I don’t want to get rid of the ache, I just wanna sit in it with The Father. Lemme tell you, it’s way more filling than drowning myself in a fantasy world to come crashing back to the surface with more ache than I had going in. And another thing, enjoying my fantasy worlds are actually more fun! Now I’m like, “Hey, Papa, this is one of my favorites. Wanna sit here and watch it with me?” And instead of trying to fill the hole, I’m deepening relationship. It’s changed my walk AND made nerddom more fun because it’s not drowning it anymore, I’m sitting in it with Him; and that’s where I wanna stay.
