"I believe you" she told me with eye contact that made me pause for a moment. "It actually looks pretty dark from your vantage point" I returned with a laugh. "No, I really do believe you that there is a beautiful sunrise happening right now and I just can't see it from where I'm at. Your telling me the sun will shine soon out there."
Commenting on the advantages of our early mornings, I had just shared with the store clerk that my youngest son, Matthew, and I were witness to one of the most spectacular sunrises I had seen in years. To that comment she glanced out the front windows of her store which faced due west and smiled. It was completely dark and actually quite a dreary winter Wednesday view for her. I felt foolish for even mentioning the sunrise until I was caught off guard by the sincerity of her response.
I believe you.
I shared my experience with my oldest son that same day. About a half an hour later I noticed him gazing out the window in deep thought. I asked him what he was thinking about. He stated that my interaction with the store clerk had reminded him of the day he climbed too high in Grandma's cherry tree and was then afraid to climb down. He called out for help. His dad and grandpa showed up from around the corner. Jump and I will catch you his dad told him. Taylor was terrified. Jump - I will catch you - his dad repeated. Taylor then related what he was thinking as a five year old at the time. "I remember thinking to myself 'That's my dad. He loves me.' I looked at dad again and I distinctly remember thinking 'I believe you - I will jump.' So I jumped."
I have spent some time considering to whom and with regards to what I make the statement "I believe you." I speak often of the power words carry. To consider the impact those three have had upon the history of the world is mind boggling really. Spoken or not they are the hinges upon which the doors of our life are opened and closed each day.
Some doors swing on beliefs that are placed upon us, piled up over time through external sources. These well greased hinges pivot back and forth freely with hardly a thought.
There are also beliefs that come from the inside - the gut - a type of knowing which you may ignore (and perhaps often do) but cannot deny. These hinges are solid, sometimes rusty, but always able to carry the load of even the heaviest doors.
I saw the Lego movie this past week with my family. Central to it's theme was the concept of believing as a catalyst to building. If you believed you were "the special" the "master builder" then that is what you became. It didn't matter what world you were created in (or box you came from) - doors opened to new worlds as your belief in yourself became stronger. A master builder could create anything from the pieces which lay around him.
In one scene the statement "I know it sounds like a cat poster - but it's true - just believe." I have struggled with this post for a few weeks now for that very same reason...sounding too much like a cat poster.
I often find myself pacing in front of an open door. Afraid to "jump" just like my son from the Cherry tree all those years ago. I shared with my nephew once that I could write a book. (Note the careful choice of the word could rather than would) He didn't laugh or criticize my naive notion rather he simply said, "I believe you. Do it." At the time I'm not sure what I wanted to hear, but it wasn't "I believe you" because that meant "Do it." I now write. It's a lot of work but so much more fulfilling than the pacing was.
It doesn't matter to the Hinge if the door swings open or closed. It's job is simply to facilitate the action. What doors would you venture through if you believed in the potential of waited for you on the other side? What doors would you then close if you believed it was just that simple?
If Peace on a daily basis - in the midst of the challenges and the everydayness of life - is what you seek you first must believe it can be found there. Believing you can find what you are looking for does not exempt you from the search - it is the hinge that opens the window so you can see more clearly.
Believing the view from the top of the mountain is beautiful does not exempt you from the climb - it is the hinge that opens the door to the trailhead.