This is hard. Bear with me. I’m trying to articulate, to force down into words the past few years, the events that have me now sitting here in Michigan, still reeling a bit, still trying to process. But even months later some of this stuff is still hard to talk about. Not events specifically. Just the accumulation. The heaviness from swallowing days, months, years of sadness, anger and depression, suppressing feelings of powerlessness, frustration and emptiness because they hurt too much to process. Because I was afraid that feeling them meant I didn’t really trust God. Or maybe eventually I wasn’t trusting His sovereignty. Or worse, His goodness.
In the past months I’ve been given words for some of it, which help a little. Compassion fatigue, burnout, even clinical depression. Which initially made me angry. Angry at God. I was doing HIS work, how did he let this happen?!? Angry at myself. If I have faith, how did I let this happen?!? But the definitions gave me a place to start in recovering, even forced me to admit that I needed recovery.
Some of the biggest challenges: How do I explain how my faith was pushed to the breaking point? How does one advocate for themselves when they are hurting so badly they can’t even recognize what they need? How to learn again to be content in all circumstances? To deal with shame and guilt. To reconcile the cognitive dissonance between what I know to be true but what feels true.
So, I’m just asking for more grace, more time. I’m still pretty wrecked. But at least I’m acknowledging it now. I’m going back through the past two year’s posts that I wrote and never shared. Some of it is still not for sharing. But maybe some of it will get posted. We’ll see.