The Shack

The other day I was having quite an in depth conversation with my mom about why we have to experience such heartache and pain in our lifetime. I haven't been able to make sense of a lot of things that have happened to me throughout almost all of my adult life, and I have had so many questions about why God would allow these things to happen to me; after all, He is the God of love and peace, right? He does want the best for His children, doesn't He?

In the process of our conversation, my mom highly suggested that I read this book called, The Shack, as it contained many of the answers to some really hard questions that have been "burning a hole" in my heart. I am almost done with the book, and it has literally changed my perspective of life and how I see God as a Father and friend. It has helped me to see God in a whole different light.

To give you a little bit of insight to the book, God comes to the main character in the book, named "Mack", in the form of a African woman named, "Papa". This is a true story by the way. Though it is a little lengthy, please read this excerpt from one of the chapters titled, "A meeting of Hearts" . . .

~ The Shack ~
"A Meeting of Hearts"

"But why do you love me?" I mean, why Mackenzie Allen Phillips? Why do you love someone who is such a screw up? After all the things I've felt in my heart towards you and all the accusations I've made, why would you even bother to keep trying to get through to me? "Because that is what love does," answered Papa. "Remember, Mackenzie, I don't wonder what you will do or what choices you will make. I already know. Let's say, for example, I am trying to teach you how not to hide inside lies - hypothetically, of course," she said with a wink. "And let's say that I know it will take you forty-seven situations and events before you will actually hear me - that is, before you will hear clearly enough to agree with me and change. So when you don't hear me the first time, I'm not frustrated or disappointed, I'm thrilled. Only forty-six more times to go! And that first time will be a building block to construct a bridge of healing that one day - that today - you will walk across."
"Okay, now I'm feeling guilty," he admitted.
"Let me know how that works for you." Papa chuckled.
"Seriously, Mackenzie, it's not about feeling guilty. Guilt'll never help you find freedom in me. The best it can do is make you try harder to conform to some ethic on the outside. I'm about the inside."
"But what you said, I mean, about hiding inside lies. I guess I've done that one way or another most of my life."
"Honey, you're a survivor. No shame in that. Your daddy hurt you something fierce. Life hurt you."
"Lies are one of the easiest places for survivors to run. They give you a sense of safety, a place where you have to depend only on yourself. But it's a dark place, isn't it?"

"So dark," Mack muttered with a shake of his head.
"But are you willing to give up the power and safety it promises you? That's the question."What do you mean?" asked Mack, looking up at her.

"Lies are a little fortress; inside them you can feel safe and powerful. Through your little fortress of lies you try to run your life and manipulate others. But the fortress needs walls, so you build some. These are the justifications for your lies. You know, like you are doing this to protect someone you love, to keep them from feeling pain. Whatever works, just so you feel okay about the lies."

"But the reason I didn't tell Nan about the note was because it would have caused her so much hurt."
"See? There you go, Mackenzie, justifying yourself. What you just said is a bold-faced lie, but you can't see it." She leaned forward. "Do you want me to tell you what the truth is?"
Mack knew Papa was going deep, and somewhere inside he was both relieved to be talking about this and tempted to almost laugh out loud. He was no longer embarrassed by it. "No-o-o-o." He drew his answer out slowly and smirked up at her. "But go ahead anyway."

She smiled back and then grew serious. "The truth is, Mack, the real reason you did not tell Nan was not because you were trying to save her from pain. The real reason was that you were afraid of having to deal with the emotions you might have encountered, both from her and in yourself. Emotions scare you, Mack. You lied to protect yourself, not her!"
"And furthermore," she continued, "Such a lie is unloving. In the name of caring about her, your lie became an inhibitor in your relationship with her, and in her relationship with me. If you had told her, maybe she would be here with us now.
Papa's words hit Mack like a punch in the stomach. "You wanted her to come too?"
"That was your decision and hers, if she had ever been given the chance to make it. The point is, Mack, you don't know what would have happened because you were so busy 'protecting' Nan.

And again he was floundering in guilt. "So, what do I do now?"
"You tell her, Mackenzie. You face the fear of coming out of the dark and tell her, and you ask her forgiveness and let her forgiveness heal you. Ask her to pray for you, Mack. Take the risks of honesty. When you mess up again, ask for forgiveness again. It's a process, honey, and life is real enough without having to be obscured by lies. And remember, I am bigger than your lies. I can work beyond them. But that doesn't make them right or stop the damage they do or the hurt they cause others."

"What if she won't forgive me?" Mack knew that this was indeed a very deep fear that he lived with. It felt safer to continue to throw new lies on the growing pile of old ones.
"Ah, that is the risk of faith, Mack. Faith does not grow in the house of certainty. I am not here to tell you that Nan will forgive you. Perhaps she won't or can't, but my life inside you will appropriate risk and uncertainty to transform you by your own choices into a truth teller, and that will be a miracle greater than raising the dead."
Mack sat back and let her words sink in. "Will you please forgive me?" Mack finally offered.

"Did that a long time ago, Mack. If you don't believe me, ask Jesus. He was there . . ."