01. Betrayed by My Body
At times I have felt that my body has betrayed the spirit of who I am. I have questioned the lovingkindness of the Lord for me. In fact, this past year I experienced a crisis in faith that came close to destroying all my confidence in him. I believe that not only was my body worn down, but my thinking and feelings became disoriented as well.
Often, I journal about my life in Christ. I write out my thoughts, feelings and meditations, including a wide range of reflections varying in length and tone. This is one day’s reflection during this time:
When I stand back and look at myself, I cannot believe that I am in this place in my spiritual life. I have been confused before, disappointed, angry, disobedient, but I do not remember in all my life trials being this disconnected. My thoughts do not turn to the Lord; in fact, I am feeling as though I have no prayer life at this point. I am not angry—at least I do not feel anger—I am simply dead. I cannot say I desire this but I also have no drive to try to change things. I think I keep waiting for You to affirm Your work in my life—not in a spectacular way, but in some way that I know is not me making it happen… I would like to know that You are truly active in my life— that You see me.
My prayers were lamenting in nature until finally, simply I became quiet. I had expressed everything I could say to God. He knew all and had heard all.
I stood in silence.
I could not sense God’s presence in my life. My thoughts told me that this could not be, but my feelings and body had no evidence his presence. I could only pray that God would guard my heart—the very core of me—while I went through this wrenching time. It was like a cloud of pain enveloped my body and mind that prevented me from experiencing the light of his presence.
Psalm 42:5 was my cry: “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God,” but I was unable to feel any hope that my condition would ever change. Even my will to hope was flagging.
02. The Garden of God’s Goodness
I live in Colorado on some acreage and, especially in the summer months, I find sustenance in the beauty that surrounds me. This past summer I worked in what I call my “Garden of God’s Goodness” which was planted during the first cancer experience. I revamped m y whole garden by tearing up the lawn. It sat for months waiting for me to continue the work bit by bit. Even though I found myself lamenting (complaining, if I am honest) while gardening, being active in creating and caring for God’s creation kept the idea of a new creation in my soul.
Often I woke up early and sat in the morning light watching the sun rise over the hill. Being in this solitude and silence regularly was very comforting. This is what I wrote one day:
I hesitate to write because I have only lowness to write about. My heart is sitting in a place of darkness. Do Your work, Lord. In Your time—“At an acceptable time, O God, in the abundance of your steadfast love, answer me. With your faithful help rescue me from sinking in the mire. . . . [Yet] you have brought us out to a spacious place.” (Psalm 69:13–14; 66:12b, ESVAll Scripture quotations are from The ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.). The birds are busy, busy this morning. The hummers are after sugar water; the wrens are chirping gloriously; the finches are munching on the thistle feeder, and I saw the blue bird come out of her box and perch on the roof. “Today is the day You have made. I will rejoice and be glad in it” and in the continual testimony to your steadfast love and mercy. You have given me my lot and I would be faithful to You in it.
As another part of these days, I chose people with whom to share my inner turmoil. I did not share it with many people because often people do not know how to minister when someone is in a dark place. I did not want someone to try to “fix me.” I did not want someone to give me the right “spiritual” answers, nor did I want someone to be overly sympathetic. I simply wanted someone to listen to me process what I was thinking and feeling with an ear tuned to God in prayer on my behalf. I needed someone to be able to ask thoughtful questions about my understanding of God and my prayer life in this part of my journey with Christ. It takes someone with a mature understanding of how to care for another in a dark place. I could have gone to a therapist, but my struggle was centered with who God was in the midst of these dark days and what was going on with my spiritual life in him, so I turned to my spiritual director.
My spiritual director has a medical and counseling background and understands the person in a holistic way, including the spiritual life in Christ. She met with me regularly, but at this very difficult, low time, I asked for intensive spiritual direction, so we met every other week for a couple months. She simply sat with me and listened, asked tender questions, prayed for me, and offered her insights of the spiritual life. She was a presence from God. With her I learned “suffering is not a question that demands an answer. It is not a problem that demands a solution. It is a mystery that demands a presence.”John Wyatt, Matters of Life and Death: Human Dilemmas In The Light Of The Christian Faith (Leicester, England: IVP/CMF, 1998).