Get A Taller Fence

 This friend is pouring out her pain, presenting a broken heart to me with hopes that I will gently hold it. A story is coming from her lips that I would never wish on anybody, and I listen deep. We knew each other when we were young but this version of adulthood is something neither of us would've ever expected, and we sit in the ache of it all. Beyond the obvious, "I'm sorry," all I can think to say as I'm hearing the walls of self-protection going up - the resolutions never to trust or love again, the hesitations on who is still safe - is to simply say, "Keep your heart open. Boundaries are one thing, walls are another." She smiles through tears and says many others have said the same, even as much as she doesn't want that to be true. 

In the worst moments of rejections, betrayal, broken trust, and pain, our bodies are wired to protect us - to perceive a threat and do all they can to keep us away from that supposed danger so we don't repeat the pain again. While that may work in some cases and situations, the problem comes when we carry that threat over into areas of our life that a stable and nonthreatening and begin to be suspicious of even those people and places, too. When all of life becomes this dance of avoidance, we basically tell ourselves the age-old thing that only we can be trusted. We turn inward for our safety, taking comfort in the privacy of our survival and letting nobody else in... including God. In an attempt to keep out the bad, we also inadvertently shut out the good. And pretty soon, we are alone. 

I've often thought of life as being like a garden. Whether you are growing vegetables, flowers, herbs, or a combo of all of them, if you want to protect your crops or blooms, you need to build a fence to keep unwanted critters out. You may still get the occasional bird that may fly in a take a nibble out of something, but you can't just leave your stuff exposed and open for the taking - you worked too hard to grow it and cultivate to let it just be stolen and ruined. Our hearts ought to be the same way. We realize that boundaries are our friend to protecting the best of who we are - to preserving our human dignity, to protecting the qualities and skills and understanding we've worked so hard to gain, to safeguarding the values and experiences that mean the most to us. Fences are our friends. 

But the thing is, fences have gates. There are still openings to the garden, and we invite others to come and see what we've created and maybe even help themselves to a little of the bounty. But we usually have these fences in a place where we can monitor who gets in and it's with the intent of keeping the bad out while still letting the good in. Yet somehow, when it comes to our inner life, we treat it differently and suddenly, we've stopped guarding the gate and now the critters can come in and wreck the garden. Even worse, people we gave trusted access to the garden have taken that trust for granted and stolen from us, leaving us devastated and hurting. And so we decide to build a wall instead. Make it out of the strongest bricks or stone so there's NO chance of anything getting it and we alone will hold the key to get inside. We shut everyone and everything out and decide that it's not worth ever trying to trust people again. 

 I get it. I really do. I put up walls for a long time due to things I personally went through and there's still a little part of me that has to be put at ease around the closer relationships in my life. When others have violated your boundaries (or you never had boundaries to be begin with!), and you've found yourself picking up the remnants of a once-beautiful garden that now lies in waste, it can be tempting to just shut yourself in and resolve to never lean into community or relationship ever again. Perhaps you're there now, just like my friend. But may I suggest that walls, while certainly stronger and less accessible, can also become permanent. Fences can be moved and removed and the gate can swing freely open or closed as needed. But walls can stand for decades and even centuries - think of Hadrian's Wall in Britain. Walls can become a way of life and you can end up cutting yourself off to so much beauty and so much good in the name of never being hurt again. 

But the way of the Master always leads through pain. You can never see the resurrection if you do not endure the death of what we once knew. Healing lies on the other side of exposure, disclosure -  having all your known turned upside down and suddenly realizing that people and life weren't what you expected. While utterly wrecking, this is how God begins to write new chapters: on the other end of our worst valleys. Someone telling you at your lowest, as you pick up broken stems and trampled blooms and see if there is anything salvageable, that hope and redemption are on the other side of all this broken feels like a cruel lie. Your brain just tells you, Quit on love entirely. Why is there any reason to believe that there is still the possibility for good? 

Yet, in the center of all the ruin, steps the loving arms of Jesus that transcend any walls. He who stepped through literal walls to reveal His resurrected self to His fearful disciples who had shut themselves in (Luke 24:36-49), now steps into your own erected walls and speaks peace to you. He who said He was the door (John 10:9-16) unlocks your barred doors and presents His presence right in the midst of the mess. When everyone else may have been shut out of your life, God never can be. He who laid down His life for the sheep now asks you to lay down your pride and let Him comfort you in the pain. He is the God who gently invades all the spaces you've tried to keep others out. And He tells you that there is a beautiful life on the other side of these walls and that you don't have to stay here forever. Take all the time you need to heal, but believe in the hope of life on the other side. 

Boudnaries are necessary. We need them in order to have healthy relationships with others and to protect the best of who we are. And sometimes, we need to build a taller fence so others can peak over and get over anytime they decide. But it's still a fence and not a wall. Prisons are made of walls. Gardens and yards have fences. One keeps the bad in, the other keeps the bad out and the good in. Which do you want to have?