Spiritual Desert
Dear J.,
It's been a while...seems to be the norm for me lately. Tell me J., have you ever been spiritually dry? I hear it is quite common among even the most faithful of God's children. In fact, we are told to expect the ebb and flow of our faith. I have found that the experience is rather disconcerting...sometimes, even scary.
I do not like the darkness of this place and nor do I like the distance from God. It is quite evident that it is I that have moved away rather than He...and we know that He doesn't move away. He is always there, it is us who move to and fro...
I'm not even sure how I came to be here, wandering in the desert, if you will. As always, I don't mind the heat, but the dryness is what I mind. The lack of an oasis. This place, it truly is like the desert. I believe I have even seen my own spiritual mirage....that vision of an oasis...I make my way to it, thirsting for the promise of water, watching it grow closer, only to find when I reach it, that my hands have gathered only sand where my eyes had seen water...
My heart doesn't feel anything really, although it still acknowledges a great love for God. I have not lost my identity as I'm ever sure of my place in the kingdom as His child. I have not turned against Him, I hold no anger or displeasure in His will. I have not forgotten His Son or His great sacrifice. I am still ever thankful for His love, mercy and grace. And it is His grace by which I am allowed this time. I know that He will use it to grow me. To change me. To lead me. To break me.
Maybe that is what I need? To be broken again? Sometimes I feel I have been broken too much. It is, after all, the calm after the storm, that I believe, really led me here. I guess I do know how I got here, although I wasn't aware of the movement to this place. It is as though I suddenly woke up to find myself surrounded by the dryness. At first, I reveled in this place where nothing happens. It was as if I needed the break. But soon, I grew concerned.
My desire for fellowship waned. Anxiety would rear its head again and I'd find myself retreating to my place of solitary. In my mind, I'm in the desert. My physical body completing only those functions that I can draw the motivation to complete. My body existing but not living. My prayer time dwindled until one day I realized it had been days since I prayed, not hours. However, my heart didn't register a separation from God. It is a strange thing how this feels.
And to know that I control it but don't have the energy level to give it. I keep thinking it must be the surgery. But I have no way to confirm that really and nothing to go on until enough time has passed in order for the doctor to make an educated guess. Could it be depression? Who knows. Again, there's so much that comes into play here that even a doctor can only guess. Will time make a difference? Who knows?
After our tumultous spring and after the damaging storm that swept through our lives, I may have simply gone on haitus. After the surgery, I was told to rest, do nothing, and let my body heal. At first that was hard. How does one stay active but do nothing? No lifting...no cooking...not too much exercise...get plenty of sleep....well, okay then. Hypocrites. So I interpreted things in my own mind and decided to do what I would do. 4 days after surgery (oh sorry J., it was a hysterectomy--everything but the ovaries) I'm walking a mile and a half, taking an afternoon nap, drinking energy drinks in order to stay up and going during the day and not really sleeping much at night. Not that I was not trying to sleep. My rare once in a while restless legs type feelings became 2-3 times a week...disrupting what little sleep my sleep insomnia problem allowed me to have. And I was walking on a daily basis. For 6 weeks I was walking 3 miles a day, working full time, working hard at not doing things I wasn't supposed to do yet still take care of my husband, and still relax in the evenings. The heat of summer kicked up and the rest of me let go.
My days were spent working 10 hours a day sometimes more, or just a little less. I got up to walk in the mornings, enjoying the dark morning hours, warm but not hot, and the solitude darkness brings. I started to talk to God on those walks. Enjoying the time I got with him. A time where I was not pressed to "fit" him in but could just enjoy His presence. On the way to work I would hear Pastor Paul Shephard for a 20 minute sermon. But on Sundays I found myself not wanting to go to church..just wanting to stay home. I felt it unfair to sit in church and pretend I wanted to be there. How fair is that to God? So I took a break one Sunday. I didn't go because I just couldn't pretend to be there for Him when I knew my heart wasn't there. I would not take part in what I felt was a lie.
One Sunday would not matter. I have always enjoyed my pastor's sermons. He has a way with words. Even when I'm convicted by the message, it is enjoyable as it is the learning about God and growing that fills me with joy. It enables the happy to come out in the middle of being broken by Him.
I have prayed for growth and motivation and some spiritual rain. Not a storm mind you, just rain. A nice shower. Something that I can soak in. Something to moisten the heart.
Until next time J.
It's been a while...seems to be the norm for me lately. Tell me J., have you ever been spiritually dry? I hear it is quite common among even the most faithful of God's children. In fact, we are told to expect the ebb and flow of our faith. I have found that the experience is rather disconcerting...sometimes, even scary.
I do not like the darkness of this place and nor do I like the distance from God. It is quite evident that it is I that have moved away rather than He...and we know that He doesn't move away. He is always there, it is us who move to and fro...
I'm not even sure how I came to be here, wandering in the desert, if you will. As always, I don't mind the heat, but the dryness is what I mind. The lack of an oasis. This place, it truly is like the desert. I believe I have even seen my own spiritual mirage....that vision of an oasis...I make my way to it, thirsting for the promise of water, watching it grow closer, only to find when I reach it, that my hands have gathered only sand where my eyes had seen water...
My heart doesn't feel anything really, although it still acknowledges a great love for God. I have not lost my identity as I'm ever sure of my place in the kingdom as His child. I have not turned against Him, I hold no anger or displeasure in His will. I have not forgotten His Son or His great sacrifice. I am still ever thankful for His love, mercy and grace. And it is His grace by which I am allowed this time. I know that He will use it to grow me. To change me. To lead me. To break me.
Maybe that is what I need? To be broken again? Sometimes I feel I have been broken too much. It is, after all, the calm after the storm, that I believe, really led me here. I guess I do know how I got here, although I wasn't aware of the movement to this place. It is as though I suddenly woke up to find myself surrounded by the dryness. At first, I reveled in this place where nothing happens. It was as if I needed the break. But soon, I grew concerned.
My desire for fellowship waned. Anxiety would rear its head again and I'd find myself retreating to my place of solitary. In my mind, I'm in the desert. My physical body completing only those functions that I can draw the motivation to complete. My body existing but not living. My prayer time dwindled until one day I realized it had been days since I prayed, not hours. However, my heart didn't register a separation from God. It is a strange thing how this feels.
And to know that I control it but don't have the energy level to give it. I keep thinking it must be the surgery. But I have no way to confirm that really and nothing to go on until enough time has passed in order for the doctor to make an educated guess. Could it be depression? Who knows. Again, there's so much that comes into play here that even a doctor can only guess. Will time make a difference? Who knows?
After our tumultous spring and after the damaging storm that swept through our lives, I may have simply gone on haitus. After the surgery, I was told to rest, do nothing, and let my body heal. At first that was hard. How does one stay active but do nothing? No lifting...no cooking...not too much exercise...get plenty of sleep....well, okay then. Hypocrites. So I interpreted things in my own mind and decided to do what I would do. 4 days after surgery (oh sorry J., it was a hysterectomy--everything but the ovaries) I'm walking a mile and a half, taking an afternoon nap, drinking energy drinks in order to stay up and going during the day and not really sleeping much at night. Not that I was not trying to sleep. My rare once in a while restless legs type feelings became 2-3 times a week...disrupting what little sleep my sleep insomnia problem allowed me to have. And I was walking on a daily basis. For 6 weeks I was walking 3 miles a day, working full time, working hard at not doing things I wasn't supposed to do yet still take care of my husband, and still relax in the evenings. The heat of summer kicked up and the rest of me let go.
My days were spent working 10 hours a day sometimes more, or just a little less. I got up to walk in the mornings, enjoying the dark morning hours, warm but not hot, and the solitude darkness brings. I started to talk to God on those walks. Enjoying the time I got with him. A time where I was not pressed to "fit" him in but could just enjoy His presence. On the way to work I would hear Pastor Paul Shephard for a 20 minute sermon. But on Sundays I found myself not wanting to go to church..just wanting to stay home. I felt it unfair to sit in church and pretend I wanted to be there. How fair is that to God? So I took a break one Sunday. I didn't go because I just couldn't pretend to be there for Him when I knew my heart wasn't there. I would not take part in what I felt was a lie.
One Sunday would not matter. I have always enjoyed my pastor's sermons. He has a way with words. Even when I'm convicted by the message, it is enjoyable as it is the learning about God and growing that fills me with joy. It enables the happy to come out in the middle of being broken by Him.
I have prayed for growth and motivation and some spiritual rain. Not a storm mind you, just rain. A nice shower. Something that I can soak in. Something to moisten the heart.
Until next time J.
posted by Unknown | 12:10 PM
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