Real Emotion

Originally published at www.xanga.com/redroadhome on 8/22/06.

Heartlessness. Just returned from seeing Disney�s portrayal of that quite literally in Pirates II's Davy Jones. Funny that someone so cartoonishly unrealistic would be the character to whom I can relate on the deepest level. In the movie, we learn that Davy rids himself of his heart because of the emotional pain caused by his relationship with his beloved. In ridding himself of his heart, he escaped the pain and allowed himself to become the ruthless controller of the seas.

Fortunately, the process seems to be going to opposite direction in me. Flash back to over two years ago during our week-long InterVarsity retreat at Cedar Campus in Michigan's upper peninsula: In spending hours upon hours with Sarah, Tim, and Rachel getting to know each other and planning for the upcoming year, I certainly grew to appreciate the unique characteristics each brought to the team. Sarah was particularly emotional, showing pieces of pure passion and pure joy and pure sorrow at different points throughout the week, all usually accompanied by tears. One night as Sarah, Tim, and I returned to the cabin, we took a twenty yard detour to the shore of Lake Huron and were awestruck by the beauty of the stars sprinkled throughout the darkest palette above water at peace, crickets chirping away and the brisk air slow dancing with the leaves. Sarah started crying and relayed some frustration at her tears throughout the week.

That reaction led to an important realization within me: that her frustration was ridiculous because her emotions were valuable, even vital to her identity as a substantial, real, down-to-earth, passionate child of the Most High. The problem with that conclusion for me was almost immediately obvious: that it was unusual for me to experience any noticeable emotion, a fact about which I was even sometimes proud. At that point I hadn't cried in over three years, seldom looked forward to anything, and struggled through life because I entered into work with dread and without passion. I ignorantly looked on the bright side: I never struggled with worry or doubt or fear. To people who didn't understand, I actually tried to explain the situation with the heartless allegory: I wasn't coldly murdering people or viciously destroying property around me - I simply didn't have any notable emotional senses.

So you can imagine my surprise when two years later at the same retreat, the song most often in my head was Audio Adrenaline's "Are You Ready for Love?": "Are you ready for love? Are you ready for true emotion? Are you too comfortable to join the revolution?" And unfortunately, those questions were more difficult to answer than they should have been. I was jealous of Sarah�s greater ability to relate and love and feel and give for sure, but it wasn't me - I was the quiet, aloof wanderer who was never brought down by attachments to others or things. In some ways it allowed her to better minister, sure, but I was okay with that. I was comfortable. It took a lot of my own stagnancy in comfort and God's work through others in their passion to truly be able to pray, "God, please give me a heart that loves fully, that fully feels everything from the deepest pains and to the greatest joys and is truly always open to vulnerability and community and emotion."

Don't laugh too hard, but it's been a scary experience - I'm often tempted to return to a life of playing computer games in a closet, exiting long enough to get A's in school, look respectable, and stuff my face. Easy. And utterly worthless. Davy rid himself of pain when he hid his heart, but he also gave up something absolutely central to his life. I'm not always convinced that the positive experiences and emotions outweigh the negative, but I'm finding that, either way, entering into and responding to circumstances emotionally is a central part of experiencing life. Please pray that I would continue to grow in refusing to run from situations of which I'm afraid or uncomfortable and instead share the Creator's grieving and laughing over the current state of His world.