I’m moving. All my stuff is moving. Some people and places I
love are not moving. That’s hard.
This
isn’t the first time I’ve made a move like this, but this one has made me think. About home. About my choices. And kind of randomly (but maybe not) about the movie Labyrinth.
When I was a kid I loved this show. If you haven’t seen it,
I’m sorry, but it’s probably too late. This 80’s gem is one of those things
that requires a heavy cloud of nostalgia to appreciate. If you’re an adult
watching it for the first time you’ll probably be confused at best and more
than likely quite disturbed.
The plot is pretty simple: David Bowie plays a goblin king
who steals a baby and tries to seduce a 15-year-old named Sarah (Jennifer Connelly). Yes. I know. But through the
rose colored glasses of a pre-CGI childhood, it’s a pretty fantastic show.
As a child I think I was drawn to this film mostly because I
lived about 90% of my life in my own imagination. And there was the whole
goblins plus Cinderella thing…and the giant red gorilla guy who calls the
rocks…and the muppet/monster dance numbers…I could go on, but I think you get
the idea. I admit that I still let myself get immersed in the escapist side of
the movie, but after navigating a few twists and turns of life myself, I can
also see how Labyrinth applies to the
tangles of reality. In the movie, the girl only fulfills her quest because she
learns two important lessons:
1. Being selfish is not cool.
Having friends (both real and imaginary) is cool.
2. No one really has power over
you. You get to decide what you’ll be.
Totally applicable to life as a thirty-something PhD
student, right? Of course none of us learn these life lessons all at once. Each twist and
turn is important. We make bad choices and good choices, we learn who to trust
and who not to trust, we get lost, we get distracted, but eventually we figure
some stuff out.
The twists, turns, and dead ends can be frustrating, and some
are terrifying, but struggling to find my path has given me a better
perspective on what I know and what I don’t.
Recently, Sahar, a friend from Palestine, taught me that part of the getting through this mess is realizing that even though we
only see this much of the labyrinth,
God sees the whole thing.
When we’re lost, we can ask him for directions. Sometimes
he’ll send a layout of everything, but more often than not, he just lights the
way for a few more steps and sees if we’ll muster enough faith to move forward.
When we do, more light comes. My friend has seen this pattern in her life again
and again, and I’ve started to notice it in mine, too. Though my journey
has been relatively smooth compared to hers, I am grateful we both know how to
pray when we’re stuck in a corner.
And in the parts without corners.
And when the whole labyrinth changes completely.
In fact, some labyrinths aren't like the ones in the movies at all. A few years ago, in Chartres, France I discovered one. It was in a garden and, on a whim, I decided to walk through it. I quickly realized that this kind of labyrinth requires a
different approach than the typical corn maze.
Take a look.
Notice that there’s only one connected path in the whole
thing. It’s impossible to get lost. If you walk this labyrinth, you aren’t
going to get stuck after a wrong turn. But you can't take any shortcuts (unless you cheat, but let's say you don't). And sometimes you might think you are really close to the end only to discover that you still have a
long way to go.
The point of it all is not finding the path, but simply
staying on it.
The older I get, the more I’m convinced that some parts of life are a confusing maze full of trial and error (dating?), but others are a test of
endurance.
Faith is that kind of labyrinth.
Choosing the Way is a one time deal. Choosing to keep going is an everyday battle.
Sometimes it’s not easy. Sometimes
I want to give up.
I don't though. Like 15 year-old Sarah, I know
I can’t.
Too much is at stake, in my own future and in the future of
others.
So I go on.
Luckily I don’t have to do it alone. I have friends on the
path. The path itself is my friend.
Always there. Always leading me on.
I’m not saying I’ve got it all figured out, and I certainly
don’t condemn anyone who chooses a different path. I think testing different
paths is an important part of the journey. I’m still testing the one I’m on,
and I know that despite the simplicity of the path, I’ll still have days where
I need to go just a few steps at a time. I know I’ll even question and doubt the path, but I won't abandon it.
Every now and then I get glimpses of home. And that is enough
for now.
