Peace and safety...

My last visit with my latest counselor occurred last year. It didn't go particularly well. My counselor was moving and wanted to wrap things up. For the previous year or two, we would meet every three months or so. I needed a touchstone, someone who would remind me what healthy was supposed to look like. I have a habit of withholding information, most survivors hone this skill early. I'd kept it sharp. I didn't withhold intentionally; it was simple habit. It was that final visit that it dawn on my counselor that there had been the mistaken believe that we were on the same page. We weren't. The assumption had been made, somewhere along the way, that I understood being secure.

I have a tendency to come across as very secure. This is generally pointed out whenever I do any public speaking. Everyone is always so impressed by how calm and relaxed I appear. Yes, it's an act. I deserve an Oscar. At this final session, my counselor stared at me, one of the few times he hadn't been able to hide what he was thinking. Dismayed. And he was leaving, with no chance to work me through the can of worms that sat open and wriggling. Yes, I have an excellent working concept of security. When I see it I know exactly what it is. I know how it's possible to implement it in the lives of others. I have not the faintest clue of how to embrace it in my own life. None. Zip. Zero.

I have lived with fear all my life. I can't imagine my life without fear. I've had moments, I must admit. My dog was a wonderful antidote to fear. My counselor chastised me that the dog was no protection because it could be bribed. I surprised my counselor by informing him that it was not the dog's job to protect me. That was my job. The dog's job was to be my early warning system. The dog alerted me to everything going on, which allowed me to relax and focus on what I was doing, without having to be on high alert at all times. I miss that. I also miss the warm comfort and adoration. The feeling was mutual.

Be that as it may. Aside from the dog, I'm wholly unfamiliar with what it is to feel safe. Then I read this quote by Bonhoeffer: There is no way to peace along the way of safety. For peace must be dared, it is itself the great venture and can never be safe. Peace is the opposite of security. To demand guarantee is to want to protect oneself. Peace means giving oneself completely to God's commandment, wanting no security, but in faith and obedience laying the destiny of the nations in the hand of Almighty God, not trying to direct it for selfish purposes. Battles are won, not with weapons, but with God. They are won when the way leads to the cross.

Admittedly, I do not agree with everything Bonhoeffer believed, but we share so many similarities in our thinking that I like to think we might have been friends had we ever met. I fear I would have been too unlearned. So much of my life was spent learning how to survive in an unreasonable world. Now, as I grow healthier, I'm amazed at what I am learning.

Returning to the quote, I may not know security, but for the first time I see it as a positive instead of a defect. I have known peace for a very long time. Even when I feel out of sorts, I know it's a time of shuffling and re-arranging in my life, but at the very core of me there is a sense of calm that I am able to draw on at need. From Bonhoeffer's perspective, I no longer feel like I am flawed because I have no security. I feel honored that I have been blessed with peace.