Recently, I've been reading the Word with the question, "God, what do you want to teach me about yourself?" I've discovered it to be a rewarding way of reading the Word. It takes my eyes off myself and teaches me more about the One whom I love most.
Being overseas again has brought me back to a place of emotional vulnerability - all my "normal" support structures aren't as easily accessible once more. And to be honest, it's been a hard fight for joy. God continues to expose the deep, hidden and wounded parts of me - my insecurities, doubts, sins, fears and failures; my resistance to His unconditional love and my hesitance to accept myself fully. The result: I feel like an emotional basketcase.
Enter the Living Word of God - Hebrews 1:11. The heavens and the earth will perish. But the Lord remains. If the Lord remains, does the Lord grieve the passing of the heavens and the earth? Afterall, He created it all. Does His heart become sad when it all comes to an end? Did Jesus show grief (He, being the most tangible expression of God that we have)? I am surprised at the answer. Yes. Jesus grieved. He wept. He wept over the passing of his friend Lazarus. He wept at the thought of the destruction of Jerusalem. God felt grief. God feels grief.
What a thought.
Usually, I do not associate God with grief and sadness. I think of Him as the God of joy, happiness and celebration. And I realize that ultimately, joy will be greater than the grief of a world passing away. But it comforts me to think that my God is an emotional God. He feels the whole spectrum of emotions. Deeply. Probably more deeply than I can ever have the capacity to feel. And I feel because I am made in His image - the image of an emotional God.
Which leads me to think that perhaps I should let Him lead me to those dark and hidden places, those places I'm afraid of going to because it might get too emotional.
Around the same time as this discovery, I started reading "Emotionally Healthy Spirituality." In it, the author points out that many of us have grown up spiritually but we're so immature emotionally that our churches are made up of shallow connections. We know all these things about Jesus but our hearts are far from being transformed by Him.
I'm learning that very few people actually live from their heart. Very few live connected with their soul. And those few who do the difficult work, who stare their junk in the face, who get counsel, who let Jesus into all of the rooms in their soul that no one ever goes in, they make a difference. They are so different; they're coming from such a different place that their voices inevitably get heard above the others. They are pursuing wholeness and shalom, and it's contagious. They inspire me to keep going.
~ from "Velvet Elvis" by Ron Bell
I want to be emotionally whole. It might mean feeling like a basketcase for a while yet, but I want to let Jesus transform me. Completely.
Open up, ancient doors,
and let the King of glory enter.
~Psalm 24:7~
3 comments:
i like basketcases ;)
Glad you're up and "running" again. :) Praying for you.
Your post echos my life as well. I was at a retreat this past weekend where a small group of people shared deeply with one another.
And I was surprised that rather than feeling relieved from sharing so vulnerably, that afterwards I felt more heartache. Such is the nature of emotions?
It's reassuring to know that this is normal!
mm... quite thought-provoking.
i've been trying to identify the joy in my life (God hasn't made it too difficult, it's just me who can't see it) and now i have more to think about. :)
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