Pslam 31: 1-2 -- "... I put my trust in you...deliver me speedily..."
Okay. For a moment, a long moment, I lost my rhythm, my two-step, my juice. I could feel myself losing it because I didn't quite feel like myself anymore. I was struggling continually to do my day-to-day functions. I was experiencing anxiety, depression, and loneliness (sometimes all at once).I prided myself on beating my own drum, creating my own lane (in life) and now, here I was, lost on a gravel road that was scattered carelessly in front of me. I was on a road that was thrown together by multiple people made from "should be's" and "stay here's" and "be this." I was stuck and scared and anxious and ready to quit.
No one knew that part though. I could admit to the depression and cocktail of emotions, but there was no way I was going to publicize the deeper issue: I had dreams of death and they were calming.
When I was younger I had no problem shouting suicidal thoughts from the mountaintops, I wanted the attention. Now, it's not the same. (Which is why my Facebook is currently deactivated and I write this under the safe thought that no one ever reads my blog). I want to hide. I want to be invisible. I wanted to shed the responsibilities and hardships and simply start over, but I knew I couldn't. My children wouldn't be able to start over and I knew God had given them to me to save me.
I felt ashamed. How could I praise Him, yet allow myself to feel so much pain and betrayal. Daily I was rejected and I had allowed that rejection to consume my life. It kind of still folds over me like a familiar blanket on a cold rainy day.
However:
Pslam 31: 7-18 -- "You have known my soul in adversities... my strength fails because of my iniquity... as for me, I trust in You... my times are in Your hand... let the lying lips be put to silence..."
The shame I felt eventually turned into self inflicted pain and I couldn't hold it anymore. Church had become a place of anxiety and as I watched my heart manifest into a physical representation, walk in suited and manipulative, I fell. I ran. I prayed. I buckled and fell execution style into deepest surrender. I couldn't hold myself anymore and openly admitted that I no longer was strong enough. I could NOT do it. The only thing left to do was pray.
This was two weeks ago.
I haven't stopped praying since. I am attacked daily. I am hurt daily. But I am saved and I am healed. This is the process. I don't like it, it's not comfortable, but it shouldn't be. If I were comfortable, then it wouldn't be a breakthrough. If this is what I have to endure to live a life full of love and free from confusion and anxiety, then I shall endure.
John 5:12 -- "He who has the Son has life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have life..Now this is the confidence that we have in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us."
He shall be my drummer and I shall walk to His beat.
