Isolation. Simultaneously what I crave and what I fear most.
I want to be alone: life is overwhelming me and I don't have the energy to explain my issues to anyone.
I don't want to be alone: the burden is too much for me to handle. I can't bear it alone.
I crave isolation: I no longer have the energy to put on a happy face for everyone.
I fear isolation: my problems don't go away, I just become bitter.
Can I be straight with you? I'm really scared.
Picture this: You're sanding at the edge of a gorge. To your left is the drop-off. Darkness. You glimpse over the edge and jump back because the danger is tangible. To your right is a meadow filled with flowers, occupied by a group of friends who are laughing and altogether enjoying life. Yet, between where you stand and the perceived bliss lies a dark forest filled with traps and lurking creepy things. You venture in because the reality on the other side is so worth it. And so you fight; machete-chop branches, kick through the tall grass, swat the bugs away from your head, and try with all your might to avoid all the pitfalls. And then you hit it. That one thing that causes you to completely forget what lies just beyond the forest. You forget and you run back to that cliff as if it were the pearly gates of heaven.
You run because nothing can be as horrific as that forest. Fighting through the persistent trials - alone. It's too much for one person to handle. Meanwhile, you start to begrudge the bliss on the other side. You become cynical. You believe that they have not a care in the world. No one has problems as significant as your own. Resentment. Irritation. Discontentment. Bitterness. It's ugly. That field is no longer appealing in any way. The best thing you can think of is utter oblivion. And so you run.
Tie-in: I trod this back-and-forth journey about a million times last year. I caught a glimpse of how ugly that oblivion was and I turned around with new resolve and fought like hell not to let sin have it's way with me. With each step and every trial, truths are exchanged for lies. Bitterness doesn't seem like such a bad alternative. And it would send me staggering toward that oblivion with wild abandon.
This summer hasn't presented much hardship, and for that I thank God with my whole being. Yet, I have wasted this precious time. Rather than spending the free time I had in the Word and being changed and conformed into the image of Jesus, I filled my hours with various good and mediocre things. I feel weak. I feel defenseless. I feel utterly unprepared to fight. And I know that the bitterness, resentment, discontent, irritation, frustration, anger, and apathy will not disappear. And I'm scared.
Now, I've forgotten the most important detail in the gorge/forest/wildflower bliss sketch. Jesus. Did he ever stop loving me? Did he ever forget about me or stop caring? Was living in light of the gospel ever not worth it? Was it ever acceptable for me to stop fighting because it was hard? Absolutely not. But this is when I began to believe the lies and I didn't care.
But God. He looked upon my helpless state and led me back to the cross.
Before I could jump off that cliff, he would catch me and firmly plant me in himself. At that time, there was no place I would rather be. I dissolved into a puddle of tears and worshipped.
How do you explain this to someone? All last year I felt so handicapped that I couldn't think, let alone try to help anyone else understand or invite them into my pain. //Sidenote: thank you, Jesus, for my mama, who would sit and listen to me, comfort me, and spoon-feed me truth when I couldn't feed myself.// But here's the thing: moms love you no matter what. I was terrified of telling others because I felt like they wouldn't understand. That I would freak them out. That they would see the ugliness in my heart and not know what to do with me. And I definitely couldn't handle that. Guess what? More lies. As I began to tell a few friends and give a few more details, I was awestruck by the grace that was channeled through them. I won't say that I realized this once it was too late, but I wish I had realized sooner.
Right now, I'm scared. I know that all of the realities of last year will be ever present and I don't want to feel that way again. I don't want to believe the lies. I will be surrounded by a beautiful community and I don't want to stiff-arm them again. I want to be real. I want to suffer well and I want to tenaciously cling to Jesus. Oh for grace to trust him more!
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1. Don't forget about Jesus. He loves you. He is for you. He is worthy of your life.
2. Please pray for me. I am weak, but in my weakness Christ's power is perfected. Pray that I would be weak, transparent, and moldable clay in the Father's gentle hands.
3. I want for you to experience something like this. Am I allowed to say that? But for real. Jesus works through trials to showcase his beauty. I want you to see him as the most beautiful, delightful, precious thing in the world. I want that beauty to dwarf the appeal of sin.
4. Isolation: why do we do it? I can't answer that, but I can beg you not to go there. Be transparent with the people around you and let them show you more of Jesus.
