Welcome to my new space here. Because I blog, I talk about myself and usually in novellas because well, I haven’t written in over a year and I’m backed up. TMI. So, as Victor Hugo once said, “A writer is a world trapped in a person.” There’s a lot here in this world of mine. Just want to clear up the misconception that you are reading with the hope that you will or may like everything I write. In actuality, when you are reading, you may find opinions and thoughts to be disturbing because, well, they aren’t yours and they are mine and I may pen something you may not agree with here. Take this title, for instance.
I have been a professed Christian for quite some time. Unlike a member of one of the many denominations out there, I cannot accurately pinpoint the moment of conversion from pagan to Christ follower, but I do know that I have been in the Christian crowd for as long as I can remember; no lie. That, however, does not make me a practicing or devout Christian, just like standing in a garage doesn’t make you a… well, you know the comparison I’m sure.
My journey to this point in my life has been an amazing ride full of provocativeness, love, lust, anger, fulfillment, happiness, sadness and doubt. So pretty much just as ordinary as anyone reading this. We have all had our struggles in our lives whether self-induced, matter of environment or just in regards to the fallen world. But I keep “doing” the Christian thing. I read scriptures and spend some time in a devotional daily. I am 95% of the time a nice, kind person (don’t mess with my kids or I’ll cut you). I attend church as a recognition of the Lord’s Day and out of love for my spiritual family there that lends support in prayer and friendship. Honestly, I hope those people love me like I love them. I can be a little overbearing when it comes to Jesus and that can come across as judgmental and I hate that about my actions for my spiritual walk. It ain’t Jesus, it’s me. Seriously. But in all my “doing” I’ve become a bit tired of the do. I don’t love Jesus any less than I did an hour ago, I just don’t think I understand who my Heavenly Father truly is because I never let Him out of his (my) box.
I have been struggling for quite some time with some major depression. Which, for me, came on as just a slight discomfort then all of the sudden you realize you’re being choked from behind by a large figure dressed in black having no bodily form, who just whispers in your ears all the lyrics from every bad song ever produced in a tune you hate. I can’t breathe most of the time IF I actually think about it so I just don’t think about it. I have ignored the lack of oxygen with food mostly and self- destructive thoughts. Unfortunately, that has led to these moments of judging, shaming and hating myself and others. Not outwardly with the latter two but giving an inner voice to any just takes me to a scary place which I didn’t even know existed until I actually had to think about it and take a breath. My friend posted a pic of her reading material and this excerpt stuck to my pant leg like a cocklebur. I didn’t know it was there but it clung to me until it brought excruciating pain upon sitting down. I don’t want to be that person in those lines of the book. I don’t like that person around me and why would I want to do that to someone else. But yet here we are. Instead of this excerpt shining a light into the dark chasm I had inadvertently found myself in, it handed me a shovel and a dark hood to place over my head to dig further into the darkness of unworthiness and sadness. I’ve just not been able to shake things or really just give them over to the cross.
As I contemplated some awesome teaching today I realized that what is keeping me back from progressing through this dark season is myself. And that I have some work to do. It disturbed me when I thought about how I had come to this revelation. I wanted the answer to be Jesus. That through prayer and study that I had a divine experience that the Holy Spirit opened my eyes to my dark nomadic tendencies of late. But that’s not it. I haven’t been able to pray for myself in this darkened time. Not even a good cry out to God to help me. There was a pow-wow several weeks ago that opened my eyes to my distrust of God in my life. It was an epiphany of sorts for me to understand that is what I do, but it once again didn’t launch me out of my pit but just gave me clarity in the pit to put up some wallpaper and get comfy. Why wasn’t the answer Jesus? Why, when I came to a real place of reason today, did it not begin and end with God at the forefront? We’re taught from a very young age at traditional church Sunday School that when a question is asked, the answer is always Jesus. Today, I didn’t see it that way. I was and am disturbed by that. That is why I wonder where I am in my spiritual walk with the Almighty. Have I dug down so deep and gotten so comfortable in my own little sediment mud bath that I cannot see Jesus in this revelation? The answer for me today is to love myself where I am. To give validity to the feelings I have that result in my emotional eating that only exacerbates my depression and well, frankly, leads me back to the pantry as I eat all emotions, not just the bad ones. Boredom is an emotion that usually opens the junk food cabinet. Cheetos are life people.
But here is what I have learned about this new way of looking at me. I will not and cannot do it alone. And that is where Jesus steps in to this equation. I’m not stupid, I realize He is and has been there the whole time. Heck, he probably dug a few feet down into that rut for me, because I’ve been begging to be here for a while. Just let me sit here and cry down here where its wet and dirty and smells like the organic compost plant. You see, I do believe that God lets us wallow in our own dark place until we understand our need for loving not only ourselves but also and foremost He who gave us life, thus resulting in a love we can share.
Not saying at all that I’m cured today. I’m not. Not saying I’m blissfully happy. I’m not. But I do have joy in the fact that my God not only loves me when I’m seeking him, but also loves me when I can’t see out of my hole. When Jesus isn’t my answer. See? He still has a work he is doing in me but there are promises I can lean on through this time of icky, gooey, sludge-like goo I drag myself through.
Philippians 1:6 The Message (MSG)
A Love That Will Grow
3-6 Every time you cross my mind, I break out in exclamations of thanks to God. Each exclamation is a trigger to prayer. I find myself praying for you with a glad heart. I am so pleased that you have continued on in this with us, believing and proclaiming God’s Message, from the day you heard it right up to the present. There has never been the slightest doubt in my mind that the God who started this great work in you would keep at it and bring it to a flourishing finish on the very day Christ Jesus appears.
I look forward to the day when someone feels for me as Paul and Timothy did for the church in Philipi. I will be working on getting my stuff together and finding my way out of my rut with the help of Christ. Because He has started a good work in me and He will fulfill the promises set forth in the book of John.
Then I will be able to fully lean on the promise that Christ himself said here:
John 14:12-14The Message (MSG)
11-14 “Believe me: I am in my Father and my Father is in me. If you can’t believe that, believe what you see—these works. The person who trusts me will not only do what I’m doing but even greater things, because I, on my way to the Father, am giving you the same work to do that I’ve been doing. You can count on it. From now on, whatever you request along the lines of who I am and what I am doing, I’ll do it. That’s how the Father will be seen for who he is in the Son. I mean it. Whatever you request in this way, I’ll do.
When my heart can speak again to pray for myself, I will know that “whatever I request in this way, He will do”. Not for the selfish desires of my heart, but for what He desires of me that He placed in my heart when He started this good work. For that I find hope.
Signing off from the mud,
Shannon