What Do I Want More Of?

I have this longing, this yearning, for a deep, passionate, connection. Yes, with God, always. But something in me knows this will be realized in human form.

Yet, I dare say I must first give what I want because in so doing, I will know I already have.

All the ways in which I want love are showing up in ways that I am judging. No, not this one. Nope, not this one either. No thanks.

But here it is. I keep asking and receiving yet won’t accept.

This is where I know I cannot withhold from anyone that which I want. Yet, to some I do not want to give – to fore-give. And this is where death to self will happen.

“If someone slaps you on the right cheek, offer the other cheek also.”

Oh boy…

To Medicate or Not…

This is not the first post I’ve done regarding my decisions to make use of pharmaceuticals. It seems to be an ongoing ‘dilemma’ for me.

I don’t doubt that many people face similar questioning about whether meds are the right choice. Everyone’s situation is different though and so the question should always be directed inward – Why am I choosing this and what, or who, am I trying to protect? The answer will come in honest seeking.

For me, it appears, that at least for now, the medicating will continue.

Seek and ye shall find:

Perhaps my imperfections are meant to teach me something. I get it.

This dilemma about whether to increase my meds or not – why am I against it? What am I trying to prove? Perhaps it’s a lesson in letting go of preconceived, self-made notions of how things should be, letting go of rules and ideas around purity being obtained through my own actions, that in some way strict adherence to a list of commandments will offer me my salvation.

But how could I have been made with imperfections to begin with if Perfection itself made me? Precisely! The so-called imperfection was made Perfectly and therefore not an imperfection at all.

Ah, at first an epiphany but then more confusion comes. I can accept the depression but how do I live with it? It’s all-consuming, at its worst, and I am lost – not the ‘real’ me, of course, that’s still inside. But it’s been barricaded.

With medication the barricades are no longer concrete walls. Rather they are pesky nets of weeds, no longer impenetrable, but a nuisance nonetheless and a hindrance to joy.

The Joy is there, this I know.

If more medication could obliterate the weeds and offer a direct path to joy, why would I not take it? Because it’s Joy I want, not joy. I want Truth, not oblivion.

Why would I take a piece when I could have the whole? But could a piece of Wholeness be not whole?

Why would you allow yourself to struggle still?

Why would you enter the dark forest in search of light when you stand in it already? Or rather, why would you not step out of the dark forest and expose yourself to the light?

Do you fear the light? You don’t know it, do you? All you know is darkness so you keep yourself enveloped in its safety.

You’re afraid of what you’ll see.

But medication’s not of God.

Who says? Did God not make the mind of man that made the medication?

But depression’s not of God?

Who says? See it not of God and it’s a curse for sure!

Apart from its whole, you know not what it is. The image on the puzzle piece means nothing until it’s put in place. And the whole image can’t be seen without its pieces.

If the wholeness of God is joy, allow yourself to be the piece you were meant to be.

You’re so afraid of joy. You know not what it is.

It’s true.

Medication can’t touch me, truly. But in believing it can I keep myself in body, fearful of its demise.

Let go of your body, little mind, and find solace in My offering to you. My Joy cannot be found in your weak protection of your self. Fear not. Let go of your self and find Me.

I know not what I’ll find in Joy. It’s true – I am afraid.

I continue to see myself as separate, trying to make my piece whole, alone.

Yet a ray of light shines not at all without the sun.

I’m a defiant little ray. I’ve known darkness for so long. I have no idea how bright I could truly be in union with the sun.

Does the type of bridge I cross to freedom truly matter? I think not. All that matters is that I choose to cross it. The paths are all different but the destination is the same.

The instruction is not to devise your own path but to seek His will in all you do and He will direct your path.

Cause and Effect

I believed I had a great purpose but then set about to accomplish God’s work through my own means. I doubted His ability for fear that the result would be failure and mediocrity.

But how could mediocrity arise from Greatness?

I didn’t trust Him to harvest the seed He planted. He sat patiently though while I relentlessly worked infertile soil.

I once thought I’d done okay  with the little seed He planted but now I see there’s been no growth at all. His precious seed remains untouched and still a little seed.

I’m ready now. I no longer want to do the work I was never intended to do.

I hang up my hat. And I do so not with a heart of sacrifice and failure but with a knowing now that I am the seed to be grown into splendor and not the farmer who will make this happen.

I trust the Great Farmer. I am the effortless Effect of His Great Cause.

Gladly.

It’s Not Your Job

If I believed myself as whole what need would I have to seek completion outside myself?

The infamous Jerry Maguire line, “You complete me.”, that had women melting with lust for Tom Cruise, is fraught with error and unavoidable failure.

Once you fail to complete me, and you will fail, your usefulness to me will be gone. I will be angry that you failed me and you will suffer the wrath of guilt.

You will have failed to fulfill a role that was never yours to complete.

That’s not Love.

I want nothing more than to recognize my wholeness and release you from your guilt.

I believed myself as incomplete and in so doing made you see that in yourself.

In my wholeness you simply cannot fail since you cannot make complete what was never incomplete.

The Next Step

So, I moved back in with my husband.

Some things have changed but there certainly haven’t been the dramatic changes that I first swore had to be made before I would even consider stepping foot back in the house.

But, there has been some change. Enough change that I’m willing to trust the process and see where things go. That’s what my heart told me to do. Move home.

I’ve only been home a week though and it hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park.

I still harbor anger and frustration and resentment and I wonder how to handle it. It’s a testament of faith to forgive and look beyond without feeling like I’m sacrificing myself. After all, I don’t believe true love is found in martyrdom either.

I find it an easier thing to overlook and look beyond and forgive others. I take very little personally and try to find the source of love in everyone.

It’s harder to do when I look at my husband. There exists this feeling of heavy expectation in marriage. “You are my wife and this is what you need to do for me.”

I don’t get marriage anymore – it feels like ownership – at least, at times, this one does.

I do believe though that a freedom in marriage, even this one, is possible but only when the expectation of fulfillment from the other is gone.

Operating from the Love of God as your only source of fulfillment relinquishes the unattainable worldly duty of the other.

There’s a difference between Love and Duty. Love springs forth automatically from the Source. Duty is obligation to rules, the absence of Love.

Each day I search my heart and hold not the past but only the present and in the only way possible, He will direct my path.

 

The Faith of the Faulty Gatekeeper

The undercurrent is strong.

These thoughts, they trickle in quietly through the flood gates. Once enough waters have seeped by, the current rages forcefully. I’m drowning before I’ve realized what’s happened.

I’m learning though, albeit slowly, to be a better gatekeeper. I’m in training.

I couldn’t stop it last night but in the midst of being forced down by the floods, I shone light on the darkness and remained calm.

You may not think so, but it’s progress to be able to look at your reflection in the water of a toilet basin that is half-filled with your own vomit and tell yourself that you’re loved and worthy. With every heave, I reminded myself that I am filled with the holy spirit.

Indeed, the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.

I tell you, I’m not done asking. I am earnestly seeking. And the door will be opened.

I know not when, but I know it will.