A little bit of whimsy

There once was a princess who lived in a tower. She lived in that fairytale construction of protection and safety, where little girls go when they are afraid. She had lived there so long that she didn’t even know why she had gone there in the first place. The tower was large, it was grey and it had a large and prickly hedge surrounding it.

For a while she enjoyed the life she had there. People came to her and she could talk to them. Sometimes she gave them very good advice. She could watch the stars rotate around the universe at night. She could think about the deep questions of life. The trees that grew close to her tower were magnificent and she recognized the beauty that surrounded her. But, there was something missing. There was a missing piece, a part of herself that she didn’t understand, and she became aware that there was a life outside of the tower.

So, she sat and she thought. She exercised her arms and legs to that they would be strong. She tried to make a plan, but eventually she gave up. The only way to know what was beyond the tower was to leave. One day, on a day that seemed like any other, she got out of bed and walked to the window, climbed over the edge and began to lower herself down, down, down. At the bottom, she fought through the prickly hedge until finally she was free. She was scratched, bruised and confused but she was free. Slowly, she walked towards the forest…

What happened to the princess when she entered the forest? I do not really know.

I know that she had people with her. Good people, people who would fight for her. Because, in the forest there were lots of battles, there were a lot of ugly things. Many beasts, dragons and witches came after her and tried to cut her soul. Sometimes she bled. Many times she cried. But, she found a pair of arms that would hold her. She found a prince who told her she was lovely, and he was glad that she had left the tower. Together she, her prince and her friends made their way through the forest. They were going towards something, a vague hope, an idea that life was made to be better, and along the way they invited other people to join them. This belief in life was like golden water. When they spoke about it, it made them stronger. They had many stories that I cannot write here. And in the end, it was enough. At the end of her life it was enough that she had lived life to the fullest.

Days of Crazy

Some of these days are full of such dramatic mood swings that I am sure I must be crazy. Isn’t that what we are studying in classes such as Mental Health? Isn’t that what we are exposed to in the hospital day after day? There is so much craziness in this world. We all have dysfunction in our soul. We all are struggling through this life, searching for something meaningful to fill our hands and hearts with.

Somedays all I have to hold onto is my breath.
Sometimes I find that the human need is overwhelming and that there is nothing that I can really do to change that.
So, I go to the place of my deepest questions, my darkest fears, and my dearest Hope.
And, yes, that means that I am going to talk about God again.

Yesterday, I left the mental hospital with a huge burden on me. I don’t want to be an angry person, like some of the nurses we are working with. I want to have compassion that leaks out of me to each person I talk with. A compassion that is real and lasting. I know that there is only one place to get compassion like that. Sometimes, I get angry with God for making me go through all of this. I get tired of going out and helping people, of bearing burdens, of being emotionally invested. But, still He continues to call me into that. I spent the first part of yesterday night arguing with Him about the pain that I am experiencing. I told Him I was too tired to go anywhere, to do anything more. But, I still felt like he wanted me to go out, meet up with some friends, and spend some more time caring for people.

A few things need to be said at this point;
After a 8 hours in the mental hospital, where I have been trying to connect with severely depressed people, those who are suicidal, drug/alcohol addicts, and my own emotions, the LAST thing I want to do is go out and see MORE people.
I want space. I want TV. I want food. I want tea, a journal, a book, a long walk, or a good conversation with a friend.

I argued with God for a solid hour.

I told Him that I was too tired and emotional, that I would probably just cry all night, and that He needed to pick someone else to do this for Him. I cried, I pleaded, and even while I was driving I kept telling Him things like, “You had better have a really good reason for why I am doing this.”

When I finally stopped to listen, I felt Him say, “If you let go of your anger, I will give you my heart for these people.” That stunned me into painful silence. I realized that I have to let go of that anger that I carry against God. I have to trust Him that He knows what He is doing with me.

To make a long story short, last night after a day of talking with people who were depressed, addicted, and screwed up, I spent the evening talking with even more people who were depressed, addicted and screwed up. Except that last night, I was telling them that they are worth more than the life they are living, and I was sharing with them the lasting Hope that I have found in Jesus. Ironic, isn’t it?