I know that the problem I am having and facing currently can only be solved by God. And yet, I cannot bring myself to ask for his help. Because I feel like He had a role to make sure I do not end up in this place, and he let me down. Because, why did he allow the many unfortunate situations that led up to me being in this place to happen? Because, why do I always end up in the same place? A place I do not want to be in, over and over? A place that is more than just raw emotion, where my cognition is twisted and the morbid and bizarre become cool to me, and I suddenly want to be engulfed in darkness? A place where the only people that can get to me in are Sheeran and 30STM and P!NK and Creed and the Script?
I do believe, I believe that Jesus is Lord, that he has authority over everything, and that he is coming back. I do wait in joyous anticipation (at least when I can afford it) for that day, maybe more so because every tear will be dried and I won’t have to feel like this, and I will rejoice in my Father. Oh yes, how I do wait for that day. But now, I feel like I do not even believe. Like that man in the Bible said to Jesus, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.” His child had been plagued by an evil spirit for long, and he believed that Jesus could cast it out… but he needed his unbelief helped. Isn’t that the situation my funks land me in all the time? And how does the Lord come through for me in such? I honestly feel like I have to be a certain way, to think in a certain way, to be helped. But that also feels like I actually am saving myself, only giving God the ‘glory’, so to speak. Like, yes, I followed religion, read my Bible daily regardless of what I feel, prayed to my ceiling, and that the following of practices and norms and rituals got me to a place where I feel sufficiently happy with myself, and so I end up thinking that God has indeed saved me from my funky episode. On and on, until the next episode, which will then have me wondering whether or not really God had any role to play in this.
You see, this is my dilemma. I do not feel as though God can relate with me in this place that I am in right now. Yet, I also cannot let go, because, like Peter said, “To whom shall we go Lord, you have the words of eternal life.” So what does a tree that is not sure of its absorption of the living waters go to next? Where does the hungry man that does not see where the bread of life is go? And how does the 98th sheep explain to the rest of the flock why it is always feeling lost, despite the good pasture and watering holes and security it has always received, that it is lost despite not taking any of these for granted? Even though it has never gotten to sheep 100’s level of lost, although maybe that is what is needed, for the shepherd to go out and get it in a way that shows it is the one that was being deliberately looked for? That if, indeed, Jesus is the answer to everything, and his joy is the strength of our lives, then where does the Christian battling depression, anxiety, personality disorders – where does this person go, without sounding like a heretic? How does this person express their lostness, their dismal outlook, their raw, unedited emotion, without uttering a blasphemy? How does such a person stare into the deep, unending abyss, contemplate a state of non-existence, and still somehow fit in the flock? How does such a person, with self-inflicted cuts and bruises, and dead afraid of social interactions, distance themselves from others – blatantly disobeying the exhortation to not give up meeting together, and still be okay? How does a person like this, who is always encouraged to ‘pray it away’, pray? Or to ‘meditate on the Word’, when their mind is stuck in a state of rumination, think of scripture? When all the other well-meaning sheep encourage them to ‘find their comfort in the Lord, for his yoke is easy and his burden light’, yet they’ve been yoked for so long, so heavily, that they are one with the yoke? That they are the burden, at least in their sight? How does such a person ‘die to self’, when they cannot even find the self to kill? When the good book assures them that ‘they died, and their lives are now hidden with Christ in God’… how do they know that this is for certain, for real, when they feel like all they did is die, and that all that surrounds them is dark, black oblivion? How do you trust when you have been consumed with despair? Where do you begin to find hope, when all you are wallowing in is defeat and helplessness?