My greatest war is the war against my own heart. I don’t lie because I want to; I lie because I’m not accustomed to spaces I can trust. I don’t cheat because I dislike my current state; I cheat because I dislike myself. I don’t steal because I need something; I steal because I don’t know what I have. I don’t kill because I hate them; I kill because I hate me. I like to be polished on the outside and lend no hint of needing help. On the rare occasions of one too many Merlots, or a trustworthy late-night chat, you might barrow my flimsy walls. And once there, you inevitably find needs, pleas, and most notably, me. Rarely will I let one in by choice though. “It feels too weak, or isn’t worthy of your time. When you ask if you can pray for me, I’ll go on to convince you to focus elsewhere…God has to handle everyone else’s problems, right? (Plus inner dialogue of, “What would they think if they actually knew what I was thinking)?” In short, in my weakest states, I hide. I hide my thirsts, inabilities and insecurities, thereby protecting myself from ever being truly seen, heard, or known.

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I had the honor of filling-out a recommendation for a Peace Corps applicant this week. And though its questions were impressive, they weren’t unlike what I’d expected—except for one. And as I’ve sat with this particular question since, I’ve realized it’s one we rarely pose, either to ourselves, or to each other, and yet one I’m increasingly convinced as destructive to live without.

“Are you aware of any circumstance this applicant may be resisting in light of his/her pursuits with the Peace Corps?” In other words, are they running from something? And if so, please extrapolate on the vacant lines that follow.

It’s (delightfully) tempting to think if I jump-ship from my current circumstances, I’ll jump-ship from my current consequences too. If I cut ties with that person, or cut communication with that situation, life with once again breathe free and easy. And in an extreme case, like joining the Peace Corps, what could be better than few thousand miles of virtuously directed breathing space, right? Wrong.

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