I walked in numb. I was exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. I had nothing left. Grace was floating me along without me even knowing it. This was the point where I didn’t give an eff. We had shut down the lifegroup we were leading. The facade was over and I was too relieved to care what people thought. I was too tired to give a rip. Perfectionism. It’s exhausting. I walked in that first therapy session vulnerable. I walked in with a mangled tangled ball of yarn and asked someone to help me make sense of it all.
I sat week after week after week accepting my depression and anxiety. Surrendering to its limitations for me. Saying yes to the pain. To the anger. To the confusion. Hands open, I was ready to receive what it had to teach me. Sometimes you strip yourself down so much it can be scary to look in the mirror. What will you see being so naked? It was my weakness that gave me the courage to keep looking. Something so primal rose up. Some deep dependence that was placed in me from the moment of my creation sprang up. I was learning to trust God in the darkness. My weakness became His strength.
There was a turning point. When I began to give myself permission to untangle myself from others. I said a goodbye to my fake friends of expectation and perfectionism. My gift of peacemaking had been perverted to people pleasing. I learned to see the difference. I learned to do the difference. When those chains fell off, it brought freedom. I got to say Yes to who God made me to be. I discovered I feel deeply and it was ok! I realized I am a slower pace person. Busy is my arch nemesis. I got in touch with my brokenness. And wholeness washed over me like never before.
I found an internal rest. I said a lot of no’s this past year. No that’s not me. No I won’t do that. It gave me the ability to feel the joy of a real Yes. Because I was stopped in my tracks, by depression and anxiety, I learned the art of stillness. I gave my body, my mind and my spirit rest. I was learning the deeper meaning of the Sabbath. I resisted the culture of production.
I allowed all that I believed about God to fall apart. Every part of me was broken including all the things I thought I knew for sure about Him. I’m still giving language to this mystery faith crisis. I am still trying to find ways to explain that I completely lost my faith. Some days all I could do was hang on to a mustard seed faith. Other days there was nothing to hold to. And yet here I stand, a year later with the biggest faith plant in my garden. Ready to give my whole life for the mystery of the Kingdom of God. To live out the radical love of Jesus. I had laid out all my no’s for Him. All my “I don’t understand” and “You don’t make any freakin sense.” On this table I laid out my truth. He said he desired truth, I took Him up on it.
So here I am. Days away from my last therapy session. Reflecting the heck out of my last season! Seeing hidden graces. Watching how God weaved my story together. I would have never chosen it. I would have never chosen the pain. Yet I am grateful for it. I found God amongst the rubble of my life. I found Him in my cracks and exposed areas. I found Him in my extreme darkness and physical suffering. I will spend the rest of my life discovering all the places He revealed Himself to me here. I can look back and say, it was good. It was horrible and painful. But it was good. I faced my fears. I faced myself. I experienced God in ways that are almost indescribable. I wouldn’t be who I am without that season. I sat with the mystery of God and it changed me.
“when you let go, you grow still and silent. You learn to sit among the cornstalks. and wait with God.” Sue Monk Kidd