But the jar he was making did not turn out as he had hoped, so he crushed it into a lump of clay again and started over.
Jeremiah 18:4
Being in my thirties feels a bit surreal because my 20s were the worst 10 years of my life. After I graduated, it was a descent into the worst mental, emotional and spiritual abyss, that when I briefly think on that period, I marvel at how I got out of it.
But recently, I met someone who in their early 40s is experiencing the turmoil I felt then. In my mind, I thought I was the only one who felt that way, I think. However, talking to her validated a lot of the feelings that I had at that time that I had thought were because I was lacking in some way.
Truly, when you are passing through that valley of darkness, the darkness is seemingly never-ending. And those looking on do not understand because the assumption is that there’s a lack of drive, a lack of effort, a comfort that one is unwilling to surrender. And inside, you who is suffering don’t understand, because you’ve done what you’re supposed to do, but the entirety of earth is rejecting you, and your efforts.
You feel as though you’re being uncovered from head to toe, and the skin you’re used to doesn’t belong to you; your entire character is being stripped, and you can’t tell where you begin or end. The person you thought you were suddenly disappears and you no longer have a self to cling to. You don’t feel human, and you’re afraid. Just afraid. Afraid of what? Everything, and nothing simultaneously. You don’t know anything, can’t feel anything. You’re breathing but it’s as though you’re not. Your body feels foreign. You’re uncertain of everything.
At that time, I felt foreign to myself, and I didn’t know who it was that was inhabiting my body. I had nothing. Nothing to give, nothing to take, nothing to cover, nothing to display.
It's only recently that I learned that “the dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty”*, and when that darkness attaches itself to you, and you’re none-the-wiser, you’re like the walking dead. The cruelty, the wickedness meted out against you is overwhelming. Like a city with broken walls, you are open to invasion; you have no one and nothing to defend you.
Sincerely, I would not wish that turmoil on anyone.
I remember that it felt like I was never going to get out. And for a while I surrendered because there was no way up, no left, no right; just a continued descent that felt predestined. I remember that I couldn’t even hang on to the string of hope that I once had for my life, the good things, the glorious things. My body was on earth, but my soul descended to a place sought to destroy me. But it’s hard to form into words what is typically categorized as depression. It was that and worse than that.
All in all, I perceive that, because of all she is going through, this lady feels abandoned. She perceives God is up on His throne, watching unconcerned, unaffected, smug, as her suffering continues.
It’s such a vulnerable, yet frustrating and frightening place to be.
Personally, I felt wretched, and I felt weighed down. Here I was, abandoned, yet God still expected my worship, and praise, and gratitude. I felt forsaken and lied to, and I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t stand it. It really was as though I’d been plunged into the dark places of the earth; I was a victim of the wicked schemes of evil people. I was exposed more than I knew, and was meat in the pot of evil. I wanted His help and yet I was full anger for having been plunged into this deep mire.
I needed sincerity, protection, the truth, and none were to be found.
In fact, listening to this woman felt like I stumbled into the dark hole that I’ve finally escaped. But I felt relieved, too. I felt both strength and vulnerability. I felt the hardship of that time, but also relief that I made it out. I felt grateful that I wasn’t destroyed by it. Consequently, I wanted to embrace my younger self, envelop her in the reassurance that I was strong enough, capable enough. I wanted to tell her that there really are mysterious things taking place, but this desert experience would come to an end; that’d I’d find help to escape. In listening to his woman, I understood that there was grace, there had always been grace even in those dark moments even though I couldn’t see it at the time. So, I felt hopeful for this lady. Hopeful that she would make it to the other side as I did. Hopeful that this troubling time will pass, because it will. I felt relieved because I’m confident that if she doesn’t give up, she’ll be ok. I promised I would pray for her, and sincerely I will make great intercession for her.
I know this woman is in this weird place of knowing what God can do, and experiencing the opposite of his protection, of answered prayer. But I know that if she permits the fire to refine, as excruciating as it is, she will come out of it radiating in victory.
In short, meeting this woman encouraged me, even for right now. It reminded me that I’ve traversed through fire and made it to the other side. I have faced many enemies and conquered, and am conquering. It reminded me there’s wickedness on earth, and people who align themselves to carry it out with impunity, but I will overcome them all.
And I hope anyone who also is passing through such turbulent waters won’t give up, no matter how long the storm lasts. There are things I’ve given up on, but those things that I’ve chosen to overcome are showing me to never surrender. Storms don’t last forever. Hardship ends. You’re that much more powerful when you overcome storms of life without compromise, without losing faith in God, and without giving up.
**
*Psalm 74:20
