Yesterday I had a phone conversation with a pastor friend and it left me deep in thought.
After I put the phone down I realized that almost everything I said, or implied, was deceitful. Not deceitful as in bold face lying. Just pretending that everything is alright when it isn't.
Wearing a mask. Laughing and joking about a situation that is crushing me. Yet unable to show the defeat and depression.
I lost my home, my place of work, time with my mother and my health is one fell swoop, and did so in such economic hard times that those in secure situations are struggling.
I became an invisible person, and as invincible as I try to be my hope faded a long time ago. Today I am simply going through the motions but like Paul, while sat in prison, I question a lot.
It is well known that conditions in those prisons were harsh. If the cell was situated in the prison’s interior, no outside light reached the cell at all. Prisoners were often chained to a post or perhaps to a guard. Poor ventilation and cramped, rat-infested quarters only added to the misery. And then there was the interminable waiting for one’s case to come to trial and possible release or death, which became an acceptable alternative after years in such miserable conditions.
If death was to be his release, Paul was not discouraged: “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Phil 1:21).
You can't say what you feel because what you feel doesn't seem thankful. It's human to desire to put on a facade of "joy" under ALL circumstances. But you can't stop what you feel.. it prevails even if it surfaces in the middle of the night when the world is sleep. Getting a home has become such a hardship with so many twists and turns, some people trying to help but not having enough support, some people trying to take advantage of an already bad situation. Some more than happy to destroy you if they can't take advantage of you. Living in a shed full of black mold, flooding, freezing and subsequent hardships like an animal, feeling less worthy than an animal. It ages you. It defeats you.
If God told me that I had only 24 hours to live I would be simply thrilled beyond words knowing that this adversity has ended, has been overcome. That sounds so morbid, but it doesn't "feel" morbid. It feels like a genuine desire, a realistic end to a dilemma that has had a multitude of resolves - and all have been tried and failed. It isn't that you want to die. You simply don't want to live.
I used to fall asleep crying and wake up crying, frantically trying to locate the building fund Robert Huckins had stolen. Today I barely have the energy to cry, certainly not as often as I did during the first two years. I just want the Lord to take me home. Yet for a reason I can't quite understand I put on a bravado that no longer exists, and make all believe that I am perfectly happy freezing cold in a shed full of black mold.
And for the life in me I don't know why.
"The more of Heaven we cherish, the less of Earth we covet.----David Brandt Berg
"I am standing on the seashore. A ship spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the ocean. I stand watching her until she fades on the horizon, and someone at my side says, "She is gone." Gone where? The loss of sight is in me, not in her. Just at the moment when someone says, "She is gone," there are others who are watching her coming. Other voices take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!" That is dying. --Henry Scott Holland
