A Little More About Me: Rediscovering Faith

An interesting artist once showed me an intriguing self-portrait—it depicted a dressed man's body with an empty birdcage and an open hatch for a head. He explained that it symbolized his realization of how limited his understanding of the world was. A memorable painting indeed, as it conveyed a truth I imagine many could relate to. How does one start to acknowledge their own limitations?

During times when my pockets only allowed me to embark on adventures of the mind, I was fortunate to be drawn back to literature, which led me to read The Three Questions by Don Miguel Ruiz. One of the topics the author explores is how we evaluate ourselves and the personal journey we must navigate when connecting with our true selves. The techniques explored challenged how we as humans define who we are. We are not the physical body nor mind, not even the thoughts within the mind, but rather, we are the vitality that inhabits the whole system. This is to say we are the energy of life itself, a desiring force that sways an endless universe of possibilities. These three simple questions examine self-identity, the realism of reality, and life’s true nature—love.

Ironically, I went into the library seeking to explore mortality, only to walk out with a short novel about life instead. I've struggled with body image issues, endured nervous breakdowns, and faced depression throughout my life. The sense of optimism for the future was so rare that when persuasion did emerge, it often rushed in radically—something not uncommon in the dreams of youth. As I grew older, responsibility piled on, alongside nature's muddling new-adolescent stages. I became more uncertain about my footing and my place on Earth. I tried many ways to improve, but ultimately, I found the most peace in doing what I thought I never would: accepting Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior.

I know, I know. Some of you are probably cringing right now or rolling your eyes—trust me, that was my reaction every time I heard that answer too. But after years of feeling inconsolable, I found the greatest hope the universe had to offer, and I was done shutting myself off to it. I'm fortunate to have the honor of choosing this for myself. It was not forced upon me, so the trauma that often shapes the nuanced stories of others is not how I view my own. However, the reason it took me so long to take this step was because of the darkness that history, disguised as truth, brought to my American ancestors. Despite the bigotry of the past, I've come to reconcile and understand that it is not faith that causes hate, but rather, it's hate that breeds unfaithfulness.

I confess, I am nervous to share my writing and to touch on topics that are impactful. I wish nothing more than to be a Fluffpiece writer, but I do not live in a Fluffpiece world. Much like the early church in Acts 6, where discontentment sparked growth and necessary change, I strive for encouraging contentment—not to say we must accept things as they are, but rather to hold on to the possibility for better days to come. At the same time, I've learned that true peace often lies in accepting things the way they are, finding a delicate balance between striving for change and embracing what is.

As I reflect on these experiences and realizations, I'm reminded that our journey toward understanding is both deeply personal and universally shared. Like an empty birdcage that symbolizes the limits of one perspective, our own explorations can lead us to profound discoveries about ourselves and the world around us. While my current adventures encompass both the realms of the mind and spirit, they have brought me invaluable insights and a newfound sense of peace. In embracing faith and reconciling with my past, I’ve found a haven that feels real, one that I never expected to discover. So, as we navigate our thoughts and emotions, may we all find the strength to confront our limitations and the courage to embrace the light that enters through our wounds.

Romans 12-9 "Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good."