Comments, yesterday, and fighting.

This has certainly been an interesting few days.

There are a lot of things to respond to from the comments. On my original "I quit" post, a man named Lincoln happened across the blog and commented on that post. He doesn't sound like he's lost all hope, but I completely understand the difference between head knowledge and heart knowledge. And he's struggled against that as well. Lincoln, if you ever come back I'm truly sorry that you understand the depths of confusion when you can't find God in your situation. I'm not going to go too far trying to offer you words of hope seeing as it might seem hypocritical coming from me of all people; but I will tell you things have improved some on my end. And the main thing I have done to get through this is completely open conversation with and ranting at God.

SLW wondered if I might have become imbalanced ( I don't blame him either ). My strongest argument for it being reality rather than mental is in how my little one has changed as well. She got worse as I started sensing things, and got better as I sensed a relief. You could argue though that I simply projected things onto her and she was responding to me. I believe, absolutely that it was real. But then, the crazy person is always convinced they're sane. :)

Nancy, my friend, you went absolutely above and beyond in your constant encouragement. It seemed that every time I checked my e-mail there was a new comment from you. Thank you.

Mark, this week it's been almost like having two pastors. A real life one, and an internet one. I've read every word you've said several times and can't thank you enough for investing something in me.

One-sided, I had to smile at your incredulity over my inability to accept Gods mercy for myself. It is far easier to accept that Gods grace is big enough for your sins; than my own.

Rahab, I don't know why, but reading your post I kept thinking that what you were saying was exactly what I would tell someone else myself. It made your comment harder to swallow. Not necessarily less true, just harder to hold on to.


Moving on...

My little one and I begin each morning with several minutes of quiet. And yesterday morning as she sat in my lap snuggled against me I began talking. I spoke blessings over her day and her life. As I did it, I remember the thought flitting in that I was the last person in the world to be praying blessings when I've been praying for basics of survival and such. It might not sound like much, but it's the most pleasant thing I've said to God all week. It's an improvement.

Later I went in to check my e-mail and found the comment from Mark where he made the suggestion of finding some grape juice and bread. I've never before felt an urge to do that but, that very moment I dropped everything and did just that. It was an odd feeling experience, but I was feeling a measure of peace again.

For the last several days, all my little one seemed to do was cry. Bedtime was spent with at least an hour and a half of just bawling, not quiet tears but sobs. Nothing seemed to help. Daytime was spent crying for no apparent reason or reasons like her hand being 'yucky'. Last night as I put her to bed, I noticed that her room felt different. She fell tearlessly asleep within 20 minutes. We'd had a tear free evening as well.

I don't want to be a pansy, or someone who is unwilling to fight righteously and passionately for a cause. Those two things are written into my genetic makeup and come out in so many of the things I do (this week apparently being the exception). But I'm wondering, how much of Christianity should actually be a fight? I shouldn't exactly complain because the last 5 years have been wonderful. But this last year has seemed to be one thing after another.

I don't want to spend my life just in faith. That might sound odd, but it's true. Yes, faith is better than feelings. It's biblical. But I want to feel something too. I want to feel I'm saved, not just steadfastly try and convince myself that I am because God said so. I need to experience walking with God, daily. Not just rely on the experiences in His word. This week has been like having your best friend walk away from you and lock himself away, then having a thousand different voices tell you that he doesn't like you anymore. It's a lot easier to combat when you're still standing right next to your friend.

Fight comes from the heart. At least my fight does. It doesn't come from my head. It's hard to fight with the passion of a heart on fire... based on head knowledge. I would fight for you, based on head knowledge. But I won't fight for myself based on it.

I wonder how many of you would come back to me and tell me that ALL of Chrsitianity is about fighting. Principalities/powers, we wrestle not against flesh and blood, fight the good fight, and the armor of God. I haven't always had to fight so hard. I've never before experienced anything like this last week. So I know it's not always like this. But, what is our fight? I know who the enemy is, but what is our fight? How are we wrestling? What is the actual struggle going on? How much attention should the enemy actually be getting? If we play defensively fighting against the enemy we're never going to score. It's offensive playing that pushes your team further down the field bit by bit.

Maybe that's really what I'm getting at. I don't want to fight against the enemy advances, I want the enemy fighting against mine. But following that line of thought (I'm just thinking out loud now, can you tell) have I really been advancing? Have I been giving the enemy something to fight off? Do demons get discouraged when they can't stop me? Have I been unstoppable to demons?

Now that the worst is passed, I feel like a wimp for having crawled under a rock and tried to sit out the fight. But I'm still not ready to get up. I don't want to stand up unless something is going to change. A new mindset, a resolve, a new plan maybe. I don't know, I'm not sure. But I want to know I'm not going to stand up from this as poorly as I was when I collapsed from it. I need to make a difference, I need to be different.