Restored and Held Together by The Body of Christ

*Publishers Note: This blog is more from the author of My Journey, as her journey continues...we urge you to reflect on the fact that in Christ, all things, especially people hold together. 

"We look at this Son and see the God who cannot be seen. We look at this Son and see God's original purpose in everything created. For everything, absolutely everything, above and below, visible and invisible, rank after rank after rank of angels—everything got started in him and finds its purpose in him. He was there before any of it came into existence and holds it all together right up to this moment. And when it comes to the church, he organizes and holds it together, like a head does a body."  (Colossians 1:15-18, The Message)

During my recent vacation from sanity, I had a friend ask me if I wasn’t just decomposing from our trip.  She meant decompressing, of course, but the thought of decomposing stuck with me.  Synonyms for decomposing include:  going to pieces, breaking up, breaking down.  Decompression is the “gradual return to conditions of normal pressure.”  Was I decomposing or decompressing?

Going on a trip is a break from routine, a relaxation of responsibilities.  But when relaxation is found in the familiarity of routines and responsibilities, a vacation can be stressful in unforeseen and insidious ways.  Even knowing what I needed to maintain mental health, the different schedule of the vacation precluded being able to include all that I needed within the day.  As the vacation continued, I became a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.  Without the requisite space and privacy to worship alone, without being connected to a community of believers, I slowly “decomposed” into self-destructive thoughts, which led to depression and eventually self-destructive behaviors.

As I returned from vacation, I sought out the much-needed solitude that I had missed.  Unfortunately, the decomposition process had gone too far.  I was “going to pieces”, and lost myself in the waves of depression and pain.  During the next week, I spent most of my time locked in my closet, losing track of the time and of the day.  My internal chronometer still feels incorrect from the loss of days that I cannot account for.

But there was something else that I had missed.  I needed to reconnect with my community.  I needed the support from a loving, faithful, Christ-filled body of believers.  Being in communion with others of like minds; souls and goals connected as a singular unit—the bride of Christ.  It is a life-giving force that is unexplainable in the natural world.  But supernaturally, it is understood.  The Body of Christ, the Church, is a singular unit with a singular goal.  When we connect, either physically or electronically, our goal should always be to lift up each other, since we are all one bride.  When a part of the body is injured or in pain, the natural response of the body is to work on the healing and restoration of that part.  Ignoring it or amputating it is not an option.

Healing could not occur until my decomposing self reconnected with the Body.  Then healing and decompression could begin.  Sharing my pain, allowing others to encourage me, minister to me through scripture and exhortation, pray for me, even sing to me; these were all necessary ingredients for the initiation of my healing.  “Decompression” did not occur in an instant; repeated prayers, emails, and time spent together have been pivotal as I move back towards mental health.  Living a life in community is more than just a casual relationship with limited knowledge about each other.  It is sharing the dirty, ugly parts and experiencing the unconditional love of Christ in physical form as we allow ourselves to be vessels to be spirit-filled and poured out to fulfill the needs of others.

Having experienced the love of true community, my response and desire is to reciprocate.  I want to know more about these people who have loved me so thoroughly.  I want to give to them, pray for them, and express our Father’s love for them to them.  I want to learn how to love more like my Father loves me.

*Finally, the author, her husband and the publisher want to suggest that you prayerfully listen and watch Jars of Clay, "Shelter", which resonates with this post, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DoDmFQWOL4Y

*Again, the author would be happy to receive your comments and questions and to respond privately.  Please submit these to Jeff.gtre@gmail.com and they will passed to her.  

 

My Journey*

Six months ago I wanted to die.  Stuck in repetitive counting and cleaning rituals of OCD, drowning in depression, convinced that I was worthless; I began counseling mainly out of love for my family.  I wanted to live for my husband and children.

The journey I have been on since then has been painful, surprising, and beautiful.  Painful because I have searched the depth of my illness:  genetic inheritance, family values, and peer abuse were all contributors; but the main barrier to my wellness was my own reactions and beliefs about myself.  I had learned to protect myself from emotional pain by escaping into my OCD rituals, and denied my sensitive, emotional self.   I was surprised to learn that I am extremely sensitive, and at first I was not at all pleased with the “new” me that was emerging.  Even though one of my goals had been to become more emotionally aware, I had not expected to what degree I would become emotional as I revisited painful memories.  

The journey has been beautiful because I have learned and experienced so much more than I thought possible.  I have questioned beliefs, searched my soul, and re-evaluated my priorities.  I have experienced the breathtaking healing of prayer.  I am learning about the needful interdependence of the church.  I am beginning to reach beyond my own pain and give to others.  I have met my Father in the depth of my pain, and He has been faithful to provide a needed phone call, email, sunrise, or song to remind me of his overwhelming love for me.

I’ve experienced grace like I never knew existed.  My therapist's unconditional acceptance of all my behaviors and insistence that I see myself as a beloved daughter of the King has transformed my view of myself.  Being able to accept grace instead of hating myself for all my failures is thrilling.

I began this experience with specific goals to achieve, and I have achieved some of them.  But I have learned that there are better goals to achieve, and have accepted that I may not be completely healed of my OCD.  I fully expect to be on medication for the rest of my life, based on my family history.  I am beginning to realize that I have bought into the lie that I am not worth as much as others because I am a woman, a housewife, whatever.  I am learning that I can have an opinion, and it is valuable. As I begin to assert myself, I am finding that my husband appreciates my opinions.  Letting him know how I feel is beginning to create a more intimate relationship between us.   

I have built many “protective” walls in my life, denying how I really feel, and they are coming down. When I wake in the morning, instead of dreading the coming day, I can pray now.  Some mornings, I still just pray for strength to get up and make it to the breakfast table.  But most mornings, I wake with the potential of the day shining through.  I am overwhelmed with the possibilities of each precious day.  But whether I wake in joy or sadness, I wake in the loving arms of the One who loves me, no matter how broken I am.

*This is a true story known to blog host, Jeff Williams.  Comments and inquiries for the author, a middle-aged, married mother of two, can be posted on this blog, or sent to jeff.gtre@gmail.com who will forward to the author for private response.

A Delaration of Hope - by Jessica*

I have spent much time on my knees, and have incidentally done much soul-searching. There are elements of my cognitive and emotional life that remain in need of a make-over, but how far I have come compared with where I have been is nothing short of astounding. Standing in the aftermath of several severe traumas has left me emotionally and psychologically crippled; not to mention, compounded the struggle to maintain sobriety. It has been a long and strenuous journey, wherein my obstinacy has all but guaranteed that I would be travelling much of the road kicking and screaming. Nevertheless, I continue to press on. The credit for this ensuing accomplishment belongs to God, but I also know that I would not have had the wherewithal to pursue the endeavor had I not had the continual support of family and trusted therapists. The purpose of saying all of this is twofold: self-affirmation, and a heartfelt gratitude for those-supernal or otherwise-- who loved me enough to stand by me despite the ugliness of my behavior, and the residual pain from past wrongdoing. This also serves as a declaration to those I have influenced that I am building a steadfast foundation-- faith in my Father above and confidence in myself-- that will ultimately prevail. 

When it comes to building personal relationships, my aforementioned traumas have stunted and abated much of the progress I had hoped to make. However, I know that if I continue to tread along the path that leads to healing, I will gain the strength of character required to “make it work.” All I seem to be lacking is the relationship…and a wrecking ball to break down the walls I have erected. I have been through many horrible relationships, and have had the heart I wore on my sleeve ripped off and stomped on. I have also endured emotional and physical abuse. These events only provided me with more bricks with which to keep building that wall. I have slowly come to realize the painful irony circumscribing this edifice: the isolation protects me from pain, but also inflicts me with a new pain: an intense longing for a relationship that would go unsatisfied –thanks again to that darn wall. Nevertheless, I have picked up many valuable lessons from all of the above. The pivotal lesson I have learned is that who I am within, at the very center of my being, can never be taken away from me; it was fashioned after the likeness of God, and made unique by those same Hands. What I do, or have done, will not change this divinely imbued identity.  The light I have inside is the very light of God, and can never be fully extinguished, although the struggles of this world may at times temporarily shroud it. My past serves as a testimony to the fragility of life and its relationships. For this reason, being grounded in faith, and learning to love myself is of the utmost importance; the foundation from which is used to build the rest. It is still hard work to maintain, since I am an imperfect vessel; and with all that I have been through in my life, the “yellow caution flag” still flies. All of the resulting pain, though, is notwithstanding, as the wisdom that comes from having endured it is invaluable. My hope and prayer henceforth is that my sharing this will fan the flame of hope in others who are reeling amidst similar struggles.

I will end this with a quote from of the greatest litterateurs, Victor Hugo: “To love another person is to see the face of God.”  ~Les Miserables

*Jessica is a 32 year-old IT professional.  Her testimony is published by her permission.  Please leave your comments for her below.

Transformational Publishing is a division of Grace and Truth Relationship Education, Jeff and Jill Williams, Springfield, Ohio 2011.