My Messy Awakening
I can say with sincerity that the moment you begin your awakening, you will never turn back.
Mine began four years ago. It had been twelve years since Papa died. While going through my jewelry box, I found his ring. Never gave it much thought until that very moment. Mom had given it to me just after my grandfather’s funeral. It was too painful to go sorting through Papa’s things then; so I stuffed it in my pocket.
But on this day, twelve years later, I found myself staring at his ring and remembering his face. Papa was the greatest man I had ever known. He wasn’t wealthy or powerful. No. He was a simple, humble, kind man…and he loved me dearly.
This wasn’t an ordinary ring, though. It was gold with black inlay and in the center, stood the Masonic symbol. Papa was a Free Mason.
In that moment, I decided it was time. I wanted to know more about my grandfather and his connection to the Masons. And so my journey began…
The path of awakening is a messy process. It means digging into the truth of the world around us. It means abandoning your pride, your dogma, your concepts of the way you thought the world worked. It means letting go of the past that you now realize was a lie. It means shattering the illusions placed all around you to keep you distracted and asleep.
My journey was riddled with fear, confusion, and doubt. Yet I couldn’t stop digging. For the first time in my life it felt like my eyes were open, and though it was painful to let go of the illusion, I never wanted to close them again.
After a year or so of falling down rabbit holes - beginning with the Free Masons and leading to an intricate network of bunny tunnels (each discovery more shocking and surreal than the last) I had nothing to show for it but another sleepless night.
As I lied awake staring at the hazy glow of the alarm clock, I was reminded of the haunting nightmare that jolted me from my slumber. The same eerie haze cast a glow through my grandfather’s window. His home was just as I left it on the day of his funeral. A shadow lurked in the hallway. Was it Papa? Out of the darkness, lunged a figure. We struggled as he placed his hand over my mouth. His strength overpowered me and just before I succumbed to the inevitability of my defeat, I awoke.
It had been weeks since I had a decent night’s sleep. Stumbling toward the kitchen in the early morning hours, with tears streaming down my face, it hit me. Staring out the window at the rising sun, I fell to my knees and cried out, “Why me? Why was I awakened to the truth of this world, while all others around me still sleep?”
Though the Lord heard my prayer, He did not answer. I had never felt more alone.
You see, I spent most of my life chasing perfection. So obsessed with looking and acting the part, I lost myself. Once I awakened to the truth, I realized that the endless pursuit of perfection was never important. To my loved ones, it seemed as though I was breaking down. The truth is just the opposite; I was already broken. My awakening was God’s way of mending me.
Feeling misunderstood, I grew more isolated. Days, weeks, months slipped by.And just as the first morning light cuts through the foggy mist, a pivotal moment in my awakening sprung forth – the moment I realized I was not alone.
Sometime in early November of 2017, I found a community of people gathered under one cause – to assist our fellow brothers and sisters in a Great Awakening to the truth about this battle of good vs. evil. This band of like-minded anonymous individuals aspired to guide humanity toward a future unchained from the grips of the powers and principalities that control us. They called themselves anons. Guided by a team of high-ranking officials within the Trump Administration, known as Qanon, these anons selflessly dedicated their lives to aid in the Great Awakening of humanity.
Like me, most of them felt isolated from the world around them, yet they had compassion for the sleeping masses. Many of them suffered devastating losses for their dedication to the cause. Friendships, families, jobs - so many sacrifices were made along the way by these nameless, faceless anons. I could relate. With them, I found my home, my belonging, my purpose.
I may never truly understand Papa’s involvement in the Free Masons, though I like to believe that as a low-level member, he was blissfully unaware of their true nature. However, I realize now, that this was never the reason for my awakening. My journey began four years ago to prepare me for this moment. I realize now (having experienced the heartache and the losses first-hand) that I was refined in the fire to emerge stronger and assist others through the beautifully messy journey we call the Great Awakening.
And though at times I still have sleepless nights, as these tear-stained eyes stare at the morning sun piercing the fog, I have HOPE because there is a new dawn on the horizon and my eyes are wide open.