The words have been stuck. My brain and heart throw up the defenses and brought out all the archers in defense of facing any of the implications of what we are facing. I’m finally at the stage of adjustment where I have lamented much. I have come to the point where my adrenaline is abating slightly. Granted, I’m still weeping at the slightest joy or pain, but I am dipping a toe into the ocean of emotions and implications of the COVID-19 scenario. I’ve felt panic at the way that my mind has lacked words for everything up to this week. Easter even, I could not feel yet, and for me, that’s a red flag. I may not know what I think about a situation off the bat, but I usually always know how I FEEL about it… if I feel safe, or wary. Enthusiastic or critical. It may change slightly, but there is always an initial feeling to process and explore and filter through Scripture, knowledge, experience, and other’s wisdom. This time? I have had no idea how I feel about this. There is only this vague ennui. Like boxing fog.
The closest I could compare this to is when my Mom was dying of cancer, the defenses that my inner soul threw up in order just to survive day to day, that it took years to peel away and unlearn and work through. I didn’t even know the depth of what was wonky in my inner life until many years later. I want to grieve and heal from this better than I grieved and healed from those years of stress and loss.
1. I will let people know I’m not ok, but that I’m trusting that God will reveal the answers I need in the right timing.
I will believe that it is not a bad thing to be in the middle of getting to a good place. That letting go of plans and some external responsibilities in order to release stress or weight, for a season, is not failing. God will equip for what He calls, and if I’m feeling shame and panic, not just fear, but real weight of wrong-ness in anything I’m asked to do by a person, I stop and weigh what God is saying, and really ask if it’s coming from Him or if I need to give a gracious no in order to do what I HAVE been called to, and be who I need to be.
2. I will allow myself time to sit in the sadness and be like the psalmist lamenting before rushing to the praise and the joy.
As an enneagram four, I can live in an Eeyore state and not implode. I am able to face the dark and find it friendly. Helpful. A teacher. But in moments of overwhelm, I can turn on it, and refuse to sit down with it. My spirit, however, won’t have this, and I continue to be restless and ill at ease until I go back and sit with “darkness my old friend” and figure out my soul. God has equipped me to feel deeply, and I need to trust that He will not let me drown in it once I open that door and let down my defenses. There is fruit on the other side of it, but the seeds need to settle in deep, dark soil first. I will only appreciate the sunlight if I’ve lived through the winter, first.
3. I will not give up the fight to “take every thought captive” and allow grace for the physical exhaustion that entails.
Last week I took a walk just around our neighbourhood that ended in a spiritual battle. After a wrong turn on a trail, I ended up having to strain through thigh-deep snow blazing my own trail, trying to beat sunset to get back to the road, looking behind my shoulder for our resident cougar at the same time. I had to learn perseverance. I had to realize that sometimes the help God sends comes in the form of strength that blooms in us from Him, not rescue by another person or circumstance. I had to learn something God couldn’t teach me if my walk had gone to plan. One step at a time, even after a mistake makes the correction hard going. It was not a time of rest. It took energy. I was surprised to realize that the physical slogging as well as the internal struggle were both equally exhausting. Even sitting trying to think down a panic attack will leave me winded and in need of a nap. Reining in my internal fears can leave me with an emotional hangover that has actual physical consequences I can’t ignore and should give weight to instead of dismissing as “all in my mind”.
4. The dark shadow I am in is sometimes just the shadow of God protecting and being near.
These verses keep getting thrown at me from all angles, and I’m clinging on to them to remind me of the care God has for those He loves. He doesn’t promise complete physical protection in these times, but the protection of mind and soul and spirit, and that “all things work together for good to those that love God and are called according to His purposes”:
He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High
Psalm 91, selected verses
Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress;
My God, in Him I will trust.”
…He shall cover you with His feathers,
And under His wings you shall take refuge;
His truth shall be your shield and buckler.
…Because you have made the Lord, who is my refuge,
Even the Most High, your dwelling place…