Mental Health Awareness and the Church: My Journey

Mental Health Awareness and the Church

My heart is overwhelmed with grief these last couple weeks as I have observed the posts, the tweets, the blogs, and comments from the Church world as we’ve learned yet another young pastor has passed away from suicide. I’m sure I don’t have the knowledge or the training to do the topic justice; but I do have my own experiences as someone who was and is immersed in the Church culture and deals with my own mental health struggles/illness.

First things first…I am not blaming the Church for this tragedy. It is a complex, messy, concerning event that has and will forever significantly alter the lives of those around it. His family, friends, and the church he served. No one is to blame. This isn’t a finger pointing mission. Secondly, those who know me well know I work as HR staff in a Mental Health clinic. I have become passionate about mental health through this work; but let’s make it very clear, my area of expertise is Human Resources, not mental health. I am not a therapist. I have not been trained in mental health. I have been trained in Human Resources.

Now to dive in.

Pastors and professional church workers…I beg you; please begin the conversations that surround mental health in your churches and in your circles of influence. The freedom and release you may bring by making these conversations the “norm” will be matchless. Find the phone numbers of local therapists, mental health clinics, and refer your congregation there if it is out of your area of expertise. Bring certified therapists on staff if you have the resources to do so. Attend mental health awareness trainings and seminars in your local community. Research what the Bible has to say about mental health.

My Story

As a young adult, in volunteer leadership roles, and as a paid staff member at church, I was struggling with anxiety. It was hard and I felt so alone in the struggle. My anxiety didn’t present as anxiety in the church. It presented as “sin”. It presented as uncontrolled debt; because shopping sprees made me feel better for a moment. It presented as being controlling; because I was grasping for control of my racing thoughts. It presented as dishonesty; because those who I turned to in the darkest times didn’t know how to respond to me. They responded the best they could, but it was inadequate. The recommended counseling, which helped for some time; but for anyone dealing with ANY chronic illness knows mental health rebounds. I was stuck in a vicious cycle.

The story I was hearing from those around me was: I wasn’t good enough. No one was saying it outright mind you, but no one was talking about their own struggles. The outward things they saw where the topic of conversation and correction; the behaviors where being addressed but certainly not the underlying cause. It caused me to cover up and not present as I truly was. My prayers weren’t enough. I was stuck in “sin”. And I wasn’t going to get better. God could heal cancer, infertility, drug addictions, etc. but God couldn’t heal my brain, and I didn’t understand why. The shame that set in was debilitating. I did not know anyone else at my church who was struggling the way I was. The conversations weren’t being had.

Prayers Didn’t Work

I know I just turned a lot of you away with that statement… “Prayers didn’t work”; but please hear me out. Prayers ALONE didn’t work. Do I believe God can heal any  illness including mental health in an instant…Yes, absolutely yes. But for me and my story, prayers alone didn’t work. I prayed, I journaled, I sought counseling and kept ending up in the same place. I needed something more. It wasn’t until my son was born that I was able to entertain the thought that I needed something else to help me fight what was going on. I made the appointment to get treated for post-partum and discovered that I had most likely been fighting anxiety this whole time. Longer then I remembered. Longer then I cared to admit. That appointment, and that medication was the answer to prayer.

 

How to Get the Conversations Started

Mental health is personal. Most people are not going to walk into a small group, altar service, and say “I’m struggling with…” especially if they have in the past and response was not well received. One of the more freeing moments I have experienced in my mental health journey was when a well-respected Pastor/Mentor in my life shared FROM THE PULPIT; “I see a counselor”. It unlocked and began to release the shame I was holding onto in my life. I had a close friend text me and say “Please pray for me. I am really struggling with depression right now. I have an appointment to go see my doctor later this week”. And again, the release was felt.

In church culture and leadership there is this mentality that pastors and their families are held up on a pedestal. That if they are struggling with something, they must not be “holding the faith”. We have to stop. This prevents the people in leadership positions from openly sharing their struggles, and receiving the grace they need to move forward. It prevents grace from pouring out on those they led and shepherd.

There’s this culture of “Don’t bleed on the sheep” amongst church leaders that is damaging. I would challenge you to look at what messages you are relaying that may send the message to your people sitting in the pulpits that are struggling with their own mental health. If a staff member went to the senior pastor of your church and said; “I’m struggling with…” how would it be received. Would there be fear for losing their job? Would there be fear of placing their family in financial ruin? Or upsetting the culture of what their family knows? Many people in church do not come forward when they are in the depths because they fear this. We need to create a culture amongst our church staffs that it is okay to struggle, its okay to voice those struggles. We are all works in progress. We need to equip our church leaders and staff with resources for themselves, for their families, and for those they seek to lead.

Journey into Motherhood

There is the loss of identity that happens when we become a mother. We say it won’t, we claim that we know who we are, we are too confident to have that happen to us. Then that child comes into our lives and everything changes. “The best parents are the ones who haven’t had kids yet.” I’m that person, I have always wanted to be a wife and a mom, I was strong in my faith, I knew kids (I worked in childcare with all ages, all ability levels and I knew what I was doing). And here I am most days at a complete loss as to what to do.

I have had many people close to me comment that it seems “I’m not spiritual” like I used to be or “I’m not as vocal about faith things” like I used to be. There’s probably an element truth to that, because I don’t know how to incorporate those things into this new role. Gone are the days I could spend an hour reading my Bible, and praying, and journaling, you know self-care things, the things that are so important. In the last two years since Jack was born, I have started 3 books, and I have completed none of them. Prior to having Jack I consumed books, so many books. I journaled every single day. I blogged often. Again since his birth I have completed 3 pages in a journal, and blogged never. Now I make notes here and there as my days go by. A quick scroll through FB and seeing some else’s inspired devotional post makes me pause and say…that’s good. And I consider my devotional time complete. But my goodness do I cling to faith stronger than ever. Watching my little guy sing “Jesus loves me” or belting out Lauren Daigle’s “You say” and something deep melts within me. He is unencumbered by what this world or well-meaning people tell him he should be. And the heart of Father God for us shines. And that is something I cling too. Perhaps this journey of finding myself, and using my faith to guide me, isn’t so much a journey of becoming something more, but rather a laying down of those expectations and enjoying exactly who I am, as I was created to be. Throwing off the expectations of others and truly just living.

It isn’t the busyness so much as it is priorities. I’m learning to die to myself each day. Because there is someone who needs me, along with my other responsibilities. So here I am tossed into this new role, which I have not navigated before. It’s messy, and I am not always “rocking it”. It appears that many moms have it all together, their Facebook shows them and their kiddos in matching outfits, perfect top knots, they had time to get Starbucks on the way to church and somehow their matching outfits coordinate perfectly with the Starbucks cup they got that day. They posted the perfect scripture verse that speaks perfectly to their lives, and they find time to work out, still have perfect lines of communication with their husband, and their homes are immaculate. My life looks more like this: Last week alone I woke up late for work 3 out of the 4 days I went into the office, I spent the majority of the weekend crying, because I was tired, hangry, and I felt like an outsider in my life. My house is currently a mess. Every single plate we own is dirty. I haven’t blow dried my hair since December, and I was really glad it snowed a few weeks ago because it meant I could put my run off for another day. The power steering went out on our car, and I didn’t buy my kid a birthday present until 4 days after his birthday. I didn’t even wrap it when I gave it to him. We are navigating pre-teen years while co-parenting a nearly 12 year old. Both of those things alone are a full time job. Combine them, and survival becomes the goal, not thriving, not rocking it, those things don’t apply to this situation.

I don’t recognize myself, because I am not that person any longer. I am not the woman who can spend hours surfing Pinterest, and trying new crafts, and reading gobs of books right now. And that is okay. At least I want it to be okay. My alone times consists of going to work, and being able to close the office door while I eat my lunch, and that’s not always enough for this introvert. And that is okay. After Mr. Toddler Man goes to bed, it’s often all I can do to not go straight to sleep myself. I’m trying to remind myself that this is a season, these are the days I am going to miss; but truth be told, right now, I don’t feel that way. And that is okay.

The World has Shifted

There's never a comfortable way to approach this topic. Everyone has their already formed opinion, so I debated even writing this. I debated even publishing it. But to sit in silence contributes to the problem.

Had you asked me 5 years ago if our country had a racism problem, my answer would have been a firm NO. Our president was black, I personally didn't know anyone who was racist, I didn't surround myself with people who blatantly hated anyone much less for the color of their skin. Then I met the man who would become my husband; and my world shifted. The rose colored glasses where removed, and I saw the truth. The truth that many of my friends and family still deny, or don't see.

It started innocently enough...a few glances here and there in church. I honestly thought it was because, people where interested in us as a new couple, they where trying to figure out, are they? Aren't they? Then a person here and there who had previously been kind to me just wasn't. There was a wall there. It happened as it became more and more apparent, that...yes, yes indeed we where a couple. Then one fine Sunday morning, she approached me. The older lady who I had looked up to. Previous years when I had first entered this particular church she could ALWAYS be found at the altar praying for others. She appeared to be a shiny gem among God's chosen people. I wanted to model my prayers after hers. She came to me and asked, "Are you dating him? That man you where sitting by?"
"Yes! I am. He's fantastic. Have you met him yet?" I beamed with pride.
"Oh dear," She said. "You can't date him. Dating leads to marriage, and marrying someone like him isn't good, or what God wants. God doesn't want you to marry someone outside your race. Your relationship is sinful." I spoke to the leadership of the church about it. They told me it was just something I had to deal with. And that was that. It was the beginning of me learning that there was a whole world outside of mine.

The day it had snowed HEAVILY. It was the first big snow of the year. If I remember correctly it was well over 6 inches. We where driving to work. The roads weren't plowed yet. So all the cars where following the tracks of the other cars. It was the only place the road was visible. This is a common occurrence in Minne--snow-ta. Maybe 3 other cars where in front of us that morning. And the cop pulled us over. The "crime" driving outside the fog lines. I didn't know a fog line existed. (It is the white line along the side of the road for those curious). The cop was RUDE, disrespectful, and constantly swearing at my husband. I have never in my life seen a cop speak to someone that way. It was hard to hear. Apparently respect from a cop, is a privilege I had always taken for granted. After a few moments I recognized her. It was a former student I had taught Sunday school to. I leaned over, said "Hi" and her attitude changed. She called my husband sir. But the damage was already done. She had shown her true attitude. And I will never forget the look on that man's face. I hate to say it, but my strong, brave, hard-working, kind, brilliant, husband, looked broken. I don't know if it was fear, I don't know if it was realizing that yet again, a cop had judged him based on this interaction, but it wasn't a look I had seen before. And it broke me. And I realized the world had shifted.

It was the cashier in the local grocery store. The one I had spoken to many times. Who always asked me how my day was. She would tell me little stories of her grandson. She knew me by name. And I noticed she stopped speaking to me, well...that's not entirely accurate. She would only speak to me when my husband wasn't with me. It stung, because I had really liked her stories. Once again, my world had shifted.

The day I opened my messenger on Facebook after my son was born. "You got lucky, your baby is light enough to raise as a "normal" person."
"What in the world is a normal person? What does that even mean?"
"You know...to not focus on his black side or culture. You can raise him to embrace his white culture." And I realized there was no reasoning with this thinking. I realized I am raising a mixed race son. And my world has forever shifted.

I am a bit embarrassed and ashamed that it took me so long to realize that we still have a problem. That racism is  systemic, and because of the past there are still laws, mores, and a way of life that disenfranchises people of color, and elevates white privilege. I am at times afraid to speak up, because I don't think my family needs more hate, or more comments, or more attention. I at moments feel like I am not going to be helpful to the conversation. Does the black community need another white woman taking up their cause, because it now affects her? How do I even help?

The Bible says: "Weep with those who weep, mourn with those who mourn." Friends, fellow Christians...I'm speaking to you. You don't get to tell your black counterparts, that "Racism isn't a thing." "Slavery was so long ago." "Yes, but those laws aren't in affect today." "You where never a slave" As a Christian, you job...your mission is to weep with those who weep. You need to listen. Hear their stories, ask how the current political state is affecting them. Learn something about how the world is for them. Are they scared? Do they feel disenfranchised? What was growing up like for them. AND TO BELIEVE THEM. Not argue away their experience, or explain it away. Then and only then will you understand that a shift in this world needs to happen. And we haven't experienced it.

Health Class Didn't Prepare Me for This

Disclaimer: This post isn't going to be for the faint of heart. If you are squeamish, or easily embarrassed by bodily functions, or you just giggled too hard in health class like a 12 year old boy at heart...you've been warned. This is real talk about pregnancy and all that goes with it.

Alright girlfriends...I thought most of us had a good relationship, but when I would ask you questions about pregnancy, there's many things you didn't tell me. Dear Coach G who taught my freshman health class and made us watch the "Miracle of Birth" you didn't tell us these things either. No one told me; so I am going to do all you ladies who haven't yet experienced pregnancy some of the things that took my by surprise.

1) You will spend a small fortune on bras, undies, and other lacey slinky things.
See, I knew that after pregnancy you needed to purchase granny panties to fit you for after delivery, I knew you needed to purchase new bras to accommodate your growing assets that are now capable of sustaining life. But NO ONE TOLD ME; HEALTH CLASS DIDN'T PREPARE ME that I  needed to accommodate these things now, at 30 weeks in. Your curves grow...A LOT, and unless you want to spend the next 9 months digging under wires out of your sides, or picking fabric out of your rear, buy new stuff!

2)You will leak.
My former coworkers warned me that AFTER pregnancy bladder control would be an issue. I thought about preparing for that...but NO ONE TOLD ME, HEALTH CLASS DIDN'T PREPARE ME, that the leaking happens while that wee little babe is still baking. As my midwife put it: "It's normal honey, us gals just get juicy as pregnancy progresses. Buy some liners and carry on." It's your bodies way of keep infection at bay, and your assets are swelling and preparing to feed your baby, so leakage there is also normal. But freaky if NO ONE TOLD YOU!

3) Your partner's breathing becomes really hard to tolerate.
Okay, so I should have expected this one. I'm not really a patient person to start with, and I was fairly warned about pregnancy hormones, but trust me nothing could prepare me for the Great Taco Melt Down of 2016. NO ONE TOLD ME, HEALTH CLASS DIDN'T PREPARE ME just how important food would become. My husband and I stopped at Taco Bell...(don't judge me, even if you won't admit it, it's delicious). We where shorted a taco. We didn't realize it. We got home, I attended to a phone call. My husband ate his food. I sat down to eat and realized one of the tacos I ordered was missing...cue the water works, cue the hysterics---yes actual hysterics, I cried some more, laid myself down on the kitchen floor and sobbed, accused my husband of eating my food, and cried some more. It was intense. I recovered and was DEEPLY embarrassed by my behavior, and was extremely drained of all energy. I've found it increasingly difficult to not be irritated by those closest to me. I've apologized more to those I love the most, in the last several months then I have ever needed to in my whole life.

4) The smells. Oh the smells you will smell
You've heard of your sense of scent increasing; but NO ONE TOLD ME, HEALTH CLASS DIDN'T PREPARE ME for how sensitive to my own smell I would become. Has my breath always been that noticeable in the morning? Has my "feminine" smell always been that apparent? Has my hair always been that gross smelling after a long day. Those closest to me assure me nothing has changed. I'm not all of a sudden the stinky kid in class, but because my own sniffer has increased in it's ability, I'm suddenly just more aware of those things.

5) You will miss you baby intensely before they arrive
For me admittedly this pregnancy wasn't a surprise. We weren't TRYING, but we weren't PLANNING either. We where pretty open to whatever God had planned for our family. However, each month prior to that actual positive test, when I was a minute later then I thought I should be, and I took THE TEST, and it was negative, I was pretty sad. I missed my baby. I know that sounds strange, I know it sounds intense, but I missed him. And then the day came that that test was positive, and I missed him even more. There are days I can be sitting at work, and tears come, because I want to hold him, kiss him, snuggle his sweet little face. NO ONE TOLD, AND HEALTH CLASS DIDN'T PREPARE me that I would be instantly in love with this teeny-tiny person who hasn't even made his full debut into the world. No one told me, that my arms would ache to see him. I can't wait to fully love on you Baby Jack.

6) The fears. The anxiety. The thoughts.
There are days I legitimately wish I could turn back time, and undue this decision. I don't regret it, I wouldn't actually change it, but when your days are being tracked on an app on your phone with daily updates, when you are going to numerous appointments, you become VERY aware of time. I am acutely aware that it's going to be a long time before it's just my husband and I ever. I am also aware of how inadequate I am to control the outcome of anything. I can only rest, eat as best as I can, and wait for this child to come. As my stomach grows, and mobility decreases I am so very aware of how helpless I am to do anything. I actually think it's part of the great design. I' not helpless to carry on with the everyday life, but I am helpless to change the actual outcome of this pregnancy. I can do all the spinning babies, hypnobirthing, breathing, I want, but I cannot control when Jack chooses to arrive. I can't choose if I sleep tonight or if I will be up numerous times after the dreams, to use the bathroom, or because the sciatic nerve flares up, much less choosing the day my baby is born, the manner in which he is born. NO ONE TOLD ME, HEALTH CLASS DIDN'T PREPARE ME for just how helpless I would feel. And I am actually learning to embrace it. Momentarily, I am set free. I don't have to do anything else. Just be. It is slowly teaching me that I don't need to have expectations of my little guy. That he can grow and be who he was meant to be, who God is designing him to be without intense intervention from me. My husband can be who God has designed him to be, without me trying to control everything.

I have dreams for my family, but ultimately those dreams will only amount to something if I place them in the hand of God and let Him lead me.

This too shall pass

It's been nearly three months since I have blogged. Nearly three months, since I have taken them time to put my thoughts down on "paper" for others to read. To expose myself to others in a way that cannot be taken back. I'm not 100 % sure of the lapse in blogging, other then I've been busy. Between a new job, working with a church plant, graduate school, and a million other things, my heart has been cluttered, and my mind more so. A cluttered mind doesn't scare me, however, a cluttered heart does. I'm attempting to unclutter some of the things that are weighing me down. 

1) I'm learning just how vulnerable people with addictions are, and how it's one of the few diseases that infects just more then the person afflicted with it. I know far too many people who in the last year who have had to lay loved ones to rest as a result of addictions. I'm scared by that. I have someone who is very near and dear to me struggling with a serious addiction. It has changed thier personality. It has infiltrated the element of trust with all this person's relationships. Nothing is sacred. And we have all been affected. My heart aches knowing that the only help is for this person to want it. In the absolute least judgemental way possible this situation really does make me wonder about the cliche " Perhaps Christ lets us hit rock bottom, because He know's HE is the rock at the bottom. " My deepest prayer, and hearts desire is that this person would fight this addiction for themselves. That they would realize they are more then this, and not all is lost. That through a long fight and long journey that they too can overcome. Lord, I pray you protection and help on this person. I pray you begin to break the chains that bind. I pray for deep wisdom for all involved in helping when it's right and backing off when it's not. 

2) I feel like I am re-learning God's voice. I have always believed He loves me. I have even believed He has spoken to me. But right now, I'm in a place of re-learning a new method of communication with Him. This communication is trust. It is looking at my circumstances and choosing to believe that God is good, even when my circumstances shout at me otherwise. It is pushing forward and rememebering that God is not a man that He should lie. It is remembering and reminding myself time and again that there is no shadow of turning in Him. 

3) Education. Education of girls around the world. Education of women around the world. I have read the stories of the girls kidnapped by the Boko Haram terriosts. I have read the countless other stories in a book called "They Fight Like Soliders; They Die Like Children." I have recently read the articles surrounding Malala Yousafzai who was shot in the head for wanting to go to school. I re-read the Diary of Anne Frank and her & her sister continuing thier education in hiding from the Nazi's. I am beyond priviliged. I have never had to fight for my right to go to school. I hav grumbled and complained, but it's never been denied to me. What is it about an educated woman that scares men? What is it that has caused the slaughter, and rape of countless women across the GLOBE? Why hasn't it been stopped? I am tired of it. I am fighting against it in the only way I know right now, and that's in prayer. 

I am ready for the war on women to be over. " If ever there comes a time when the women of the world come together purely and simply for the benefit of mankind, it will be a force such as the world has never known" ---Matthew Arnold, found in Lisa Bevere's book "Lioness Arising" I am ready as a woman to stop participating in the war against women. I believe it starts with me. It starts with me seeking the face of my God each and every day, and asking Him what he has for me this day. It's me taking my dreams and not letting the world dictate them. It's me believing that I am a blood bought child of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. It's me ending my insecurities when I see a woman walk in the room who is prettier then I am. It's me not judging women who a dressed a certain way and instead of showing them compassion I show them disdain and judgement. It's me not caring about the motives of other women towards those I love, and choosing to believe they are pure in thier motives. It's not being jealous when I see my sisters acheiving the things I want to acheive. 

I really am done continuing to agree with the enemy of my soul that says I am not good enough. I am done agreeing with the enemy of the souls of women world wide that want to keep them oppressed. How do I play my part and fight a war that has been waged since in the Garden?

I believe it's through prayer and choosing to believe that God loves me. It's not compromising my heart because this world has told me I should. It's by running 100 miles in 100 days and raising 100 dollars to supply meals for children caught up in trafficking along the boarder of Thailand and Burma. It's remembering that if I am taken out of the fight, that there's people behind me left vulnerable. It's choosing each day to live as though the Lord has a mission for me to spread his love. 

Father God, you know my deepest heart and deepest desires. You know the pain I fight with and the struggles I have. Please God be bigger then my fears. Please let me see you victorious in all these things. Be close to the broken hearted reading this tonight. Be with those who don't know what thier next steps are. Be kind to those who need you near tonight. Lord keep me humble. Keep me knowing and loving you. Draw my friends and family close to you. Break the chains that bind thier hearts. Amen.

Just as He Said

Today is Easter Sunday. Countless Christian's attended church across the USA. Plastic eggs have been hidden and found. Chocolate in mass quantities has been consumed. Families gathered and are still gathered. And I am sitting here reflecting on the Lord and His promises.

Promises are a hard thing for me to comprehend. I have had many promises broken to me, just as you have. It's easy to not be able to trust anyone or anything because of the sheer number of broken promises, dreams, and plans.

Luke 24 States that the women closest to Jesus, went looking for Him at the tomb. At the place He was buried. Ready to anoint His body wit spices. They had either forgotten He had told them He would rise again on the third day, or they didn't believe His promise to them. They just knew that they loved Him. And in love they wanted to serve Him by preparing His body and anointing Him. It was somehow better to be close to the dead Jesus, then to not be by Him at all.

However, when they got to the tomb they discovered it was empty. Yet it still didn't sink in. They where still confused. The angels spoke to them and reminded them " Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, He has risen! Just as He said He would."

Just as He said He would. Over the course of the next couple of days the risen and resurrected Christ would appear to over 500 witnesses! Just as He said He would.

I am so thankful for a God who can be trusted. Who looks our fear and unfaithfulness in the eye and appears before us. Just as He said He would. I wonder if He appeared to so many to cement His trustworthiness.

I struggle in believing God's promises to me. I struggle in believing God is really for me. My salvation is intact. I belive He loves me. I believe He died for me and rose again so I can be with Him in eternity, but it's the day to day care and promises I struggle with. I struggle with Him fulfilling specific plans He has spoken to me when they seem so distant and so far way. I'm in good company. I believe God today is looking at me and speaking to my heart and saying...I have risen. Just as I said I would. I see you and am working on your sitution, just as I said I would.

What about you? Do you have broken dreams, pieces of promises you are struggling with. That you think the Lord has forgotten about? If the darling of Heaven, can leave the comfort of the Heavenlies, be born of a Virgin, live a completely sinless life, die a sinners death, and rise again 3 days later, just as He said He would. What can he do with your prayers, and petitions? Jesus came to save the world, just as He said He would. Who are we to think that He won't fulfill His promises and plans to us, just as He said He would? If He can save the world through one great, glorious act. If He can redeem us all. If He can take back the keys of death, Hades, and the grave. My friends, He can take control of your situation as well.

Lord, forgive my unbelief. Forgive my double mindedness. I press into you. I ask for you to work in the situations that feed on my delicate, heart. God, I ask for you to fulfill the unspoken promises that I hold so close to my heart. The promises I have laid at your feet. Please work, and hold me close just as you said you would. I thank you Lord that you overcame darkness. That the enemy of this world has lost his power, and nothing could hold you back. You my Lord, are the risen King. I trust you with my whole life. Surround me in your presence and light and truth. You are a good and merciful God. Amen.

Jesus Wept

We love you because you first loved us (1 John 4:19)

Love your neighbor as yourself (Mark 12:31)

This living and loving. This being of the Gospel. This becoming like you, requires us, no requires me to love first. To hold out that olive branch. To jump in to take the risk. To love first. To not know if the other person will respond in kind. To lay aside my prejudice, to lay aside my mind.

Is this why you wept? You knew. You knew, my Lord and my God, that you are the solution. The yes and the Amen. The Alpha and the Omega. The Beginning and the End. You where, and you are, and you will always be the answer, the solution, the great longing met, the souls precious treasure. You’d extend it freely, at no cost to us other than acceptance.  The cost to you…the cost to you, far too great to measure. This leaving of the grandeur and the Holiness of the Heavenlies.  You left playing among the stars, for dirt, and thirst. Whips, and tears. Tired sighs. And hunger.

All in an effort to woo. To romance through the sacrifice, to win us back to the Father’s heart. To win our hearts and claim us as your own. And what have we done with your gift? We’ve rejected it. Swatted it from your hands. We wouldn’t see what you were offering in pure and beautiful simplicity. This treasure for our hearts. The invitation handed to us from the grace-filled hands, and healing gaze. The gift to be, our truest selves, that which you created. The Creator rejected by the created ones.

Rejecting the only thing our souls need. We would nail you there in our depravity, so unaware. Unaware of the torn flesh and blood spilt on our behalf. Unaware for the first time, the Father would turn His face from You. The darling of Heaven.

This is why you wept. You too knew we would face the rejection. The batting away of our love, the walls we would build back up around us. The hurt we would feel as we reject each other. The pain we would cause one another. You bore it all. You held it all there. On that cross. You broke it all. You healed it all. You overcame it all.

This precious sacrifice which you made for me. This need for you which should cause me to break every wall. You took the risk on me. I will take a risk. I will bear the cross you’ve called me to. The beginning of the loving, is the breaking. The most broken of the hearts, are the ones who have loved the most. Risked the most. Sought you the most.  This is why you wept. Not from the rejection you felt, but for the rejection you know I would feel. The breaking that began in me the day we met. The breaking that scares and scars. That brings me to my knees. That requires me to meet you in the dead of the night, to search you in the throne room. The breaking of these walls I’ve set against those you love. The breaking of these walls I’ve set against you. The rejecting of the truest self you’ve created in me.

You wept because you knew every effort I would take to protect against, the agony, to protect against, humanity, to protect against the becoming, to protect, against the breaking. Is this what was in the cup you begged the Father to remove from you?

Father God. My Beloved. You paid it all. You paid it all. The cost too far for me to count. I press on. I move into your embrace. I ask you to brush me off and show me how to love again. To become closer to the truest self.