The Maze of My Life: Part 9, Getting Tricked

I followed her, and at last we were at the end of the maze.  The only thing that stood in between me and the door were these huge, ginormous, super tall, gigantic, humongous, really tall statues.

They were scary, scary, scary.  They were these tall statues of that Egyptian god that’s a dog or something.  I can’t remember if they had those Egyptian always-awake side-eyes or not.  But I was petrified they were animatrons.

I would not go forwards.  I was so close to the end.  I didn’t want to give up, but I was terrified.  My dad couldn’t wheel me anymore.  He tried to inspire me by saying something like, “Look, you can see the outside.”  And he was right.  The bright, sunny, warm, happy day was streaming into this last abysmal corridor of the maze.

There was an attendant nearby, and my mom went up to her and asked her if the statues moved.  Mom told her I had a terrible fear of animatrons.  The attendant said they did not move.  I watched people exit with no problems.  And I didn’t believe the attendant would lie when she had to see how scared I was.

Well.

I have a lot of fears.

The dark, holographic pterodactyls, animatronic arms, and foam mummies hanging from ceilings, apparently.

And then I have the big fears.  And one of the high-rollers is getting tricked.

As a kid, I could not watch suspense movies.  I would become hysterical at the least bit of surprise.  Here’s a true story: at age 12 or so, I actually hyperventilated because of a movie.  The movie?  While You Were Sleeping.  Now, for those of you who don’t know the movie, you may be thinking it’s a horror and that I somehow made sense.  But for those of you who know I’m talking about the chick flick with Sandra Bullock, you could understandably think, “Huh?”  But I bet you can guess why I was so upset.  In the movie, Sandra’s character falls in love with a guy, but while he’s in a coma, she falls in love with his brother.  At the wedding altar, she goes for the brother.

I felt tricked.  And mad.

I don’t really have too many stories of getting tricked.  I’ve had a few times.  Mostly, though, I just wait in fear for it to happen.

I have always had an especially astute awareness of the possibility for trickery.  I’m good about spotting corners where something could be lurking and figuring out how a seemingly harmless object could harm me.

So in a mummy maze already responsible for an animatronic hand, I was very suspicious of tall, black, and very unfriendly looking Egyptian dog statues.  Especially because they looked unfriendly.  Did you know they looked very unfriendly?

I thought it was kinda crazy to believe that statues so tall could actually move.  They looked like they were made out of solid wood.  But because I am the kind of person who worries about the irrational, I worried.

I was so worried, in fact, I froze.  I did not know whether to trust my mom’s power to persuade the attendant not to scare me or to go back and find the red exit sign.  I was afraid to go backwards.  I was afraid I would be ashamed afterwards, and I was afraid to have to go back to any part of that dreary maze.  I wanted out–now.  And the sunlight was all heaped up at the doorway like light’s laundry.  Even in the most frightening part of the maze–the path in between me and the doorway–the light touched.

I looked at the statues again, and it didn’t really make any sense at all that they could move.  This wasn’t that high dollar of a maze.  Why would I ever think such a ridiculous thing?

I walked past those really tall, humongous, gigantic, super tall, ginormous, huge statues, and I was keeping a close eye on the one closest to me.  And right when I got to where, if I took one more frightened step, I would be right in front of it–that thing started walking towards me.

I about needed a heart transplant–for my own heart to be taken out of my throat and put back in my chest.

Getting tricked is something I do not enjoy.

And I don’t enjoy it, either.

I don’t trust my eternity on the kindness of an Egyptian ‘god’ dog, but instead to a Savior who rescues me without duplicity.

And Jesus said to them, Take care that you are not tricked by anyone. People will come in my name, saying, I am he; and a number will be turned from the true way. (Mark 13:5-6, BBE)

Christ never committed any sin. He never spoke deceitfully. (1 Peter 2:22, GW)

[God] is my Rock, there is no deceit in him. (Psalm 92:15b, BBE)

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The Maze of My Life: Part 8, Reflection

I followed her into another pitch black room with glazes of light and a red emergency exit sign.  I decided I’d made it this far into the maze–I didn’t want to chicken out in the middle.  So I ran into a mirror trying to get out.  This part of the maze was the easiest part, because there were people all around me–including kids.  If a pterodactyl came up and ate me, at least I would have company.

My easiest part of the maze was Mom’s hardest part.  My mom hates to be in tiny, crammed closets with total strangers for some reason.  So she was real motivated to find her way out.

I am a reflective person.  I reflect on what I do.  I think a lot about it.  I analyze, criticize, and try to fix up the past in my head.  But it doesn’t work that way.

What I end up with is a room so full of reflections of escape with no real way out at all.  And . . I have become comfortable in that room.  For many years.

Satan is so skilled at taking our past and taunting us with it, shoving us into remembering what we’ve done, knowing full well we have no ability to change what is there.

The only way out of self-reflective horror . . . is hope.  I have hope not that I can go back into the past and ever find my way back out, but that Jesus has broken the mirrors.  I no longer have to hold my mistakes up to reflect all over the universe.  They have been forgiven.  At the cross.

We had broken the Law many ways. Those sins were held against us by the Law. That Law had writings which said we were sinners. But now He has destroyed that writing by nailing it to the cross.  (Colossians 2:14, NLV)

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See Copyright Page for Bible translation information.

Paralyzed

Help me, Lord, not to be paralyzed by fear.

Not to be paralyzed by arrogance.

Not to be paralyzed by failure.

Not to be paralyzed by longing.

Not to be paralyzed by worry.

Not to be paralyzed by guilt.

Not to be paralyzed by anger.

Not to be paralyzed by grief.

Not to be paralyzed by entertainment.

Free me, Lord, from paralysis.

So I can follow exactly where You lead.

Photograph by Dave Herholz, profile on http://www.flickr.com/people/dherholz/