Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Small Voices

For the past few days, I have felt lost and fumbling. I keep praying and waiting and hoping that God will intervene--and maybe He has, and I've been too downtrodden to notice. I feel like every way I turn, I run head on into a brick wall. Occasionally there are swinging doors in the brick wall, and I'm able to make it through. Unfortunately, I usually hit the wall before I find the doors.

I have been meditating, trying to quiet my mind so that I can hear God's "still, small voice." The meditating has helped quiet my conscious mind a little, but when I go to sleep at night, I have these crazy dreams that leave me feeling exhausted and unrested in the morning. Sleeping used to be my escape, but now the craziness has even invaded that safe place.

Try as I might, I find myself sleepwalking through my days often muttering half-aloud, "Help me, Lord," which prompts Lily to say, "Mommy, are you talking to yourself?" "No, sweetie, talking to God." Is this some sort of spiritual transformation? Because it feels remarkably similar to a nervous breakdown.

I'm on edge. I jump at sudden noises. When my dog gets loose and corners my neighbor, rather than seeing the humanness in it, I feel like curling into the fetal position and crying. When my cat pees on my bed, I have much the same reaction. Yet, I feel like I've never prayed more, never read the Bible more, never tried harder in my life to be a good person and follow God's will. So, I can't help but wondering where God is when I'm curled in a fetal position crying?

Part of me says, "Put your big girl panties on and deal with it." Another part of me looks at my sister, who has just suffered a debillitating injury yet carries on with patience, grace, and complete faith in God. Why can't I be like that? Part of me thinks, maybe I really do have a chemical imbalance or bipolar disorder or something else that needs a man-made intervention. I gave up my "happy pills" to lean on God. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, I feel as if I just fall on my face day after day.

I don't doubt God's existence. I haven't lost my faith. I just keep feeling as if maybe I'm doing something wrong. Praying wrong. Acting wrong. Following the wrong path. Expecting too much. Lord knows I have ridiculously high expectations for people; stands to reason, the Almighty wouldn't be an exception. Maybe if I could just be a little calmer, a little more patient, a little better of a person...maybe then God would show Himself to me. Maybe then He'd give me a sign. Maybe then He'd lead me. Or maybe He'd at least help me up off the floor.

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