I am in a dark place.
And my response has been to give in to it, to cast aside all the truths and lessons this wonderful family has been pouring such time and effort into imparting to me, and to run back to the same old self-destructive patterns. I suck. But here's the other truth:
"If you'll hold on to me for dear life," says God, "I'll get you out of any trouble. I'll give you the best of care if you'll only get to know and trust me. Call me and I'll answer, be at your side in bad times; I'll rescue you, then throw you a party. I'll give you a long life, give you a long drink of salvation!" (Psalm 91)
This is what I need to choose to believe. Belief, like love, is a choice. A decision to be made anew each morning. Not a feeling, but an act of your will. And it's not just positive thinking. Yes, it's active, but no, I can't do it without God, in a void. It's not magical, but it is mystical. And I don't know any way to begin but to step out in faith, whatever that means, and live today, this one day, as if I am valuable and God has a legitimate plan for me and loves me as I am.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
February 24, 2010
This is me, about to go into Counseling Session #4 with Ryan. I wish I didn't dread it. I want to yearn for the opportunity to work through my mess, to grow and change, to get one step closer to being the person God has created and called me to be...
But I don't. Instead, I anticipate failure. There is no way to prepare for these meetings. I don't know what I'm supposed to talk about, how to initiate a productive conversation. I can't seem to answer the questions posed to me, by Ryan or by the books. And I feel guilty sucking up Marilyn's precious time with my brokenness.
But I don't. Instead, I anticipate failure. There is no way to prepare for these meetings. I don't know what I'm supposed to talk about, how to initiate a productive conversation. I can't seem to answer the questions posed to me, by Ryan or by the books. And I feel guilty sucking up Marilyn's precious time with my brokenness.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
February 16, 2010
Unite my heart to fear your name.
Verses like "I give thanks to you, O LORD my God, with my whole heart" sound so familiar to me that the meaning gets lost. My heart is divided. My focus is scattered, broken, divided, divisive. "One thing have I asked of the Lord"is a pipe dream. I can't pray it. I can't live it. Only His Spirit inside me, His grace working through me, can possibly unite my heart.
And as always, the big question – how do I get there? "Remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose." (Acts 11:23) And what does that look like? Following (not imitating) Jesus – loving Him, trusting that He is in control and working everything to my good.
Starting March 1st, I'm renting out my place to Steve and Karen Bowyer of Tucson, Arizona. I'm scared – of the (slightly smaller after yesterday) mountain of work to prepare for their arrival, and stressed about all the things that could go wrong once they're in and I'm a "landlord." But God must have orchestrated this, so I need to believe that He's got it covered. I suck at this, so... unite my heart, that I might fear Your name.
Verses like "I give thanks to you, O LORD my God, with my whole heart" sound so familiar to me that the meaning gets lost. My heart is divided. My focus is scattered, broken, divided, divisive. "One thing have I asked of the Lord"is a pipe dream. I can't pray it. I can't live it. Only His Spirit inside me, His grace working through me, can possibly unite my heart.
And as always, the big question – how do I get there? "Remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose." (Acts 11:23) And what does that look like? Following (not imitating) Jesus – loving Him, trusting that He is in control and working everything to my good.
Starting March 1st, I'm renting out my place to Steve and Karen Bowyer of Tucson, Arizona. I'm scared – of the (slightly smaller after yesterday) mountain of work to prepare for their arrival, and stressed about all the things that could go wrong once they're in and I'm a "landlord." But God must have orchestrated this, so I need to believe that He's got it covered. I suck at this, so... unite my heart, that I might fear Your name.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
February 9, 2010
I feel like I said things pretty well to Christian last night, putting words to my struggle, and now I can't quite retrace my train of thought. Something about this gi-normous gap I'm feeling between the "identify your God-substitutes and repent for them" and "wait and trust God." Yeah, it doesn't make sense to me anymore either. All I know for certain is that I'm missing steps in there somewhere, and I keep getting lost.
How do you fall in love? I have no clue. How do I build a relationship of love and trust with God when I can't manage to do it with the people right next to me? And the inevitable answer is, you can't. God has to bridge the gap. And the frustration and discouragement kick in. Because I don't know where to go from there.
This entire realm of 'relationship' is so foreign to me, so alien to my experience... if God is right there right now trying to break in, would I even recognize it? Sometimes I think I'm missing that piece of my humanity entirely, or that maybe it's just been beaten out of me. To say it has atrophied doesn't ring true, since I never felt like I had it. So I don't know what to do.
I know others are seeing supposed progress in me. All I feel is tired and old, and getting exponentially more exhausted and older by the day. My world feels small and constricted. Where is this freedom that has been promised?
How do you fall in love? I have no clue. How do I build a relationship of love and trust with God when I can't manage to do it with the people right next to me? And the inevitable answer is, you can't. God has to bridge the gap. And the frustration and discouragement kick in. Because I don't know where to go from there.
This entire realm of 'relationship' is so foreign to me, so alien to my experience... if God is right there right now trying to break in, would I even recognize it? Sometimes I think I'm missing that piece of my humanity entirely, or that maybe it's just been beaten out of me. To say it has atrophied doesn't ring true, since I never felt like I had it. So I don't know what to do.
I know others are seeing supposed progress in me. All I feel is tired and old, and getting exponentially more exhausted and older by the day. My world feels small and constricted. Where is this freedom that has been promised?
Saturday, February 6, 2010
February 6, 2010
Here are a couple more pieces in the puzzle of my life. I don't understand how they fit into the big picture yet, but I want to commit them to paper before they slip away...
Freedom is a process. A process that occurs incrementally through a relationship with Jesus.
There has been so much focus on getting rid of idols and giving up identities, and not so much on how to fill the void with God.
Trust is not something that can be manufactured. Real relationship starts with getting to know the other Person. All the waiting and resting in the Lord stuff is not Step One. You can't trust someone until you really understand and believe that they love you.
Freedom is a process. A process that occurs incrementally through a relationship with Jesus.
There has been so much focus on getting rid of idols and giving up identities, and not so much on how to fill the void with God.
Trust is not something that can be manufactured. Real relationship starts with getting to know the other Person. All the waiting and resting in the Lord stuff is not Step One. You can't trust someone until you really understand and believe that they love you.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
February 3, 2010
I don't know where to go from here.
I don't know how to process the information I'm given.
I don't know how to ask for help on questions in a book nobody else has read.
No matter how many times you tell me Tripp asks 'really good questions,' it doesn't make them any less impossible to answer. In fact, each time I fail, I get more frustrated and it just gets harder.
I can't find a middle ground on the emotional spectrum. I'm either switched off (intentionally numb, or helplessly paralyzed), or I'm a sobbing, hysterical basketcase. Either way, in silence or tears, I can't make myself understood. And both ways, I'm wasting everybody's time.
I'm three weeks into this Tripp book, and I can't coherently tell you a single thing I've read or learned. You know how sometimes the words just start lighting up on the page? Everything seems relevant, there aren't enough highlighters in the world... Well, this is the opposite. Nothing lately seems to sink in. There's not a mark on any page of any book I'm reading. It just bounces off.
I can't seem to make any connections. When I read or listen to something, even if it seems vaguely relevant in the moment, I can't remember what it was 15 minutes later. And if I think about it too hard, I just end up crying. I don't even know what I'm supposed to get out of this, or even what I want to get out of this, anymore. It's just a big confusing jumbled mess.
I don't understand Ryan, and I did understand Christian, so what the hell are we doing? Marilyn is trying so hard to translate between us, but counseling through a translator seems ludicrous. What Christian saw as me not being able to hear him anymore, I saw as me finally really engaging, no longer hiding my frustrations but trying to plow through them, to actively make progress. And it totally backfired, and now I feel like I've lost my counselor, and that my friend is giving up on me.
I don't know what else I'm supposed to give up. I don't know what I'm still hanging onto that I'm not supposed to. From here it seems like I've willingly handed over everything that hadn't already been forcibly taken from me – and I'm praying, and I'm repenting – and still I'm apparently doing it wrong. Yes, I get that 'hiding in my room' is not the solution, but what is? How am I supposed to talk about things I don't understand with someone who doesn't understand me? Or answer questions I don't know the answers to?
I don't know how to process the information I'm given.
I don't know how to ask for help on questions in a book nobody else has read.
No matter how many times you tell me Tripp asks 'really good questions,' it doesn't make them any less impossible to answer. In fact, each time I fail, I get more frustrated and it just gets harder.
I can't find a middle ground on the emotional spectrum. I'm either switched off (intentionally numb, or helplessly paralyzed), or I'm a sobbing, hysterical basketcase. Either way, in silence or tears, I can't make myself understood. And both ways, I'm wasting everybody's time.
I'm three weeks into this Tripp book, and I can't coherently tell you a single thing I've read or learned. You know how sometimes the words just start lighting up on the page? Everything seems relevant, there aren't enough highlighters in the world... Well, this is the opposite. Nothing lately seems to sink in. There's not a mark on any page of any book I'm reading. It just bounces off.
I can't seem to make any connections. When I read or listen to something, even if it seems vaguely relevant in the moment, I can't remember what it was 15 minutes later. And if I think about it too hard, I just end up crying. I don't even know what I'm supposed to get out of this, or even what I want to get out of this, anymore. It's just a big confusing jumbled mess.
I don't understand Ryan, and I did understand Christian, so what the hell are we doing? Marilyn is trying so hard to translate between us, but counseling through a translator seems ludicrous. What Christian saw as me not being able to hear him anymore, I saw as me finally really engaging, no longer hiding my frustrations but trying to plow through them, to actively make progress. And it totally backfired, and now I feel like I've lost my counselor, and that my friend is giving up on me.
I don't know what else I'm supposed to give up. I don't know what I'm still hanging onto that I'm not supposed to. From here it seems like I've willingly handed over everything that hadn't already been forcibly taken from me – and I'm praying, and I'm repenting – and still I'm apparently doing it wrong. Yes, I get that 'hiding in my room' is not the solution, but what is? How am I supposed to talk about things I don't understand with someone who doesn't understand me? Or answer questions I don't know the answers to?
Thursday, January 28, 2010
January 28, 2010 , 2010
Too many questions, not enough answers. True in my second meeting with Ryan yesterday, still true in my meltdowns with Christian this morning.
I feel paralyzed. I try to pray (even inside my head), and not only do no words come, but it feels like a chasm opens up at my feet. I prefer the previous feeling of talking to a wall.
And now, quite suddenly, I morph from the 'girl who thinks too much,' is too introspective (particularly regarding myself), to the 'girl who doesn't see herself clearly and keeps avoiding looking at herself.' Imagine my surprise.
Too many questions, and no clear answers to be had. Tripp's today are predictably vague and particularly unanswerable by me:
1) Where have impatience and disloyalty gotten you off God's path?
2) As you have been waiting, what new things has God taught you about yourself, himself, life in this fallen world, sin, and his grace?
No clue, Paul.
Then I'm supposed to find myself in the story in The Silver Chair with Aslan, Jill, and the stream. But isn't it Aslan I'm supposed to be seeking, and not the things he can do for me? I thought Aslan was the stream. Where am I in all this? I'm trying to talk to the damn lion! And paralyzed not by fear of the lion, but by things I can't even find within myself...
Then (having failed at Projects 1 and 2) I move on to Psalm 77. Pretty sure that what I'm supposed to see is HOPE. Even when Asaph felt as if God had abandoned him, he looked back and remembered that God promises to walk with us through (not around( the hard stuff.
That's all well and good, but all I'm seeing is "my soul refuses to be comforted" and "I am so troubled that I cannot speak." That's what makes me cry. That resonates. God's faithfulness to the Israelites doesn't seem to translate to my reality.
Have there been times in my own life when God has stepped in that I can look back to for encouragement? Sure. But what's on the surface today is all the scum Ryan dredged up yesterday, trying to "unpack" every time in my world that I have felt most anxious, all the times I've been hurt, damaged, forsaken. Small wonder that I've buried so much of it. Also not rocket science that scaring this stuff up might interfere with my sleep or make my outlook rather dismal.
When those dark feelings started to engulf me last night, what was my first response? To CALL OUT TO GOD. And I found a block there. Not that God wasn't listening, but that I was without words. All the words seemed to plummet into the chasm at my feet. There was no way around, so I just stood at the edge of the blackness, waiting for the words to come. But when I tried to explain that this morning, I'm told that my first step should be to repent for not running to Him. I did! Who's the author of the chasm? Probably me, but that doesn't mean that I know how to fill it in.
I know I can't just avoid the hard stuff. But (as with the white noise) it's insanely difficult to look directly at it. "Pray!," you say. "Ask God to help! Ask Him to come find you!"
The only answer I can give is that I'm trying. He knows where I am. And that right now the only options I see are to wait at the edge or to walk directly into the pit. (After all, theoretically my words are down there...)
So I wait. And I ask for help. And I confess my unbelief. And I fail at my many and assorted homework assignments, that are meant to make me see more clearly but mostly so far just seem to muddy the waters. And I do what I'm told, and I answer honestly, and more often than not all this honesty just ends up making me cry.
I feel paralyzed. I try to pray (even inside my head), and not only do no words come, but it feels like a chasm opens up at my feet. I prefer the previous feeling of talking to a wall.
And now, quite suddenly, I morph from the 'girl who thinks too much,' is too introspective (particularly regarding myself), to the 'girl who doesn't see herself clearly and keeps avoiding looking at herself.' Imagine my surprise.
Too many questions, and no clear answers to be had. Tripp's today are predictably vague and particularly unanswerable by me:
1) Where have impatience and disloyalty gotten you off God's path?
2) As you have been waiting, what new things has God taught you about yourself, himself, life in this fallen world, sin, and his grace?
No clue, Paul.
Then I'm supposed to find myself in the story in The Silver Chair with Aslan, Jill, and the stream. But isn't it Aslan I'm supposed to be seeking, and not the things he can do for me? I thought Aslan was the stream. Where am I in all this? I'm trying to talk to the damn lion! And paralyzed not by fear of the lion, but by things I can't even find within myself...
Then (having failed at Projects 1 and 2) I move on to Psalm 77. Pretty sure that what I'm supposed to see is HOPE. Even when Asaph felt as if God had abandoned him, he looked back and remembered that God promises to walk with us through (not around( the hard stuff.
That's all well and good, but all I'm seeing is "my soul refuses to be comforted" and "I am so troubled that I cannot speak." That's what makes me cry. That resonates. God's faithfulness to the Israelites doesn't seem to translate to my reality.
Have there been times in my own life when God has stepped in that I can look back to for encouragement? Sure. But what's on the surface today is all the scum Ryan dredged up yesterday, trying to "unpack" every time in my world that I have felt most anxious, all the times I've been hurt, damaged, forsaken. Small wonder that I've buried so much of it. Also not rocket science that scaring this stuff up might interfere with my sleep or make my outlook rather dismal.
When those dark feelings started to engulf me last night, what was my first response? To CALL OUT TO GOD. And I found a block there. Not that God wasn't listening, but that I was without words. All the words seemed to plummet into the chasm at my feet. There was no way around, so I just stood at the edge of the blackness, waiting for the words to come. But when I tried to explain that this morning, I'm told that my first step should be to repent for not running to Him. I did! Who's the author of the chasm? Probably me, but that doesn't mean that I know how to fill it in.
I know I can't just avoid the hard stuff. But (as with the white noise) it's insanely difficult to look directly at it. "Pray!," you say. "Ask God to help! Ask Him to come find you!"
The only answer I can give is that I'm trying. He knows where I am. And that right now the only options I see are to wait at the edge or to walk directly into the pit. (After all, theoretically my words are down there...)
So I wait. And I ask for help. And I confess my unbelief. And I fail at my many and assorted homework assignments, that are meant to make me see more clearly but mostly so far just seem to muddy the waters. And I do what I'm told, and I answer honestly, and more often than not all this honesty just ends up making me cry.
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