Naivete was a nice place to be. I was in my twenties. I was a young wife and mom. I was discovering my passions.
I was learning new songs that were water to my parched spirit. I was experiencing worship for the first time in my life. I was enchanted by holy behavior. I was mesmerized by theology.
That was when the stained glass in the church windows still sparkled.
That was before the darkness found its way out of the pit and tried to swallow me. That was before I ever really had an inkling about my deep need for grace.
More often than not, I wish I could go back. Back before I knew what it felt like to be undone. Back before brokenness became my banner. Back before I could easily identify the prideful pedestals people stand on…watching for the fall they don’t know is coming. Back before I needed to live in a constant state of grace and mercy. Back before I so desperately needed to know who I am in Christ. Before my world consisted of What if things had been different?
When you step out of the naive into the knowing, there’s no going back.
The burden of the knowing is heavy. Consider Adam and Eve who lived in a state of naive bliss until they ate the fruit of knowing. They immediately recognized their nakedness. The bore the burden of trying to cover themselves. God, in His mercy, made coverings for them, but cast them out of the garden of Eden. They couldn’t return to not knowing. They couldn’t go back.
Yes, naive was a nice place to be. Seven years later, it still haunts me.
Abandoned my dreams in the garden Cast out in a broken world He took the key when he made me leave Forget my name, just call me naive Forget my name, just call me deceivedfrom “Call Me Naive” R. Gilbert, G. Vinson
