The most dangerous secrets are those we keep from ourselves. The lies we’ve been told as truth by those we trust can be dangerous and volatile. Those dirty little lies turn into dirty little secrets. Especially if they are spoken by those we have been taught to give unquestioning respect: our teachers, our preachers, our friends, and yes, even our family.
They don’t intend to lie to us, but they do. The truth is, they’ve been lied to as well. It’s an endless tangle of rusty chains that hold us back from who we really are.
Why? Because they have told us the wrong answers. No, its not the answers. It’s because they have not allowed us to ask questions. To freely question everything.
You see, asking questions can free us from the lies of control. But, unfortunately, it often takes devastating suffering to provide the courage and wisdom to ask the questions—to expose the secrets—we have unconsciously labeled taboo.
Take religion, for example. Growing up as a very sensitive young boy, I was not allowed to do much of anything. Religion, as I know it and as my parents know it, is a way of life where no is said with such constancy that on some days, one might forget that the affirmative is even a possibility.
A fortunate few have been granted a mom like mine, in part, to be relieved of all those endless no’s of living a safe, responsible, productive, and moral life. The question of restrictions, of what is allowed and not allowed, is very much at the heart of the institutions of our lives. I think religion, school, society and even family have destroyed many people. Chains cease to be needed after the spirit has gone out of a prisoner.
And somehow, innately, my mom fought to keep that from happening to me. She determined to save those microscopic atoms in me that were truly me. And she passed that redemptive gene on down to me. I want to help save those microscopic atoms in you that are truly you.
What if I could help you like my Mom helped me?
One of the most valuable things my mother gave me was her guidance and encouragement. So I suppose you could call me a guide. And if suffering leads to wisdom like the Bible says, then if that’s really true, you could even dare call me a wise guide. Not a guide to the right answers. No, I certainly don’t have all the answers. But I sure do have a lot of questions.
I’ve been blessed with a good Mom, a great therapist, and a lot of suffering. Yes, blessed.
By suffering, you ask? Yes, by suffering. My loving mom first taught me to ask questions, the suffering gave me the courage to ask hard questions, and my trained and empathic guided me to the right questions.
What if I told you that asking God eight simple, but universal and timeless, questions might spare you some of the suffering life inevitably brings. And what if I said these questions might help introduce you to yourself? In fact, they just might give you freedom from the chains of your past and help you choose who YOU want to become!
What if you could be who YOU want to be and not that person your teachers, church, culture and family told you that you had to be?
That is the quest I’ve found myself on for the past fourteen years. I wrestle with these questions and more in the new video series and self-coaching guide called, God, I Have A Question…or Two.
It is designed to encourage and guide you in asking questions, universal questions, of yourself, of others, and yes, of God. Because I believe if God is as big and loving as we need him to be—he knows that in our sincere wrestling with the truth—we will eventually fall gently back into his arms.
If you would like to know more, go to: QuestionorTwo.com