This discovery of the depths of my inner control freak from my last post is really profound and quite telling for me. It goes like this: I've honestly had a lot of things in my life happen that I had no control over. I've had to learn to adapt, in every sense, in many ways, my entire life. Nothing (at least it feels like!) in my life has gone quite as planned. Or at least according to my plan. (Or even my parent's plan.) Seriously. Since day one.
So when you grow up with all these things you have to adapt to, have questions about, outside forces are making things more complicated, it wears on even the most flexible person. At some point you've had it, and just want things to be easy and go your way. But when you realize you can't actually control anything, that causes a huge struggle with anxiety. Because the knowledge that you can't control things doesn't stop you from trying. (Challenge accepted.) And when you don't confront your anxiety, that's going to turn into depression. Which, from what I've seen personally, will manifest in Sadness and Anger. By now, I bet somebody's raised their eyebrows. Like "What. Lindy depressed? Sad? Angry?! No way." Please hold.....
"God is always in the business of redemption. And Grace, like rain, always flows to the lowest parts of life." -Dominic Done
This is exactly what I've found to be true in my journey with depression. See it goes like this: These serious control issues lead to serious anxiety issues where I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop. And then the anxiety prevents me from seeing all the blessings, because I'm too busy, focused on what's wrong, if only, or what I can't control. And the anxiety leads to depression. Hence, that need for Grace to flow to that lowest part of life.
This is what I've experienced. Honestly. Every single aspect of my life is a struggle to be content in and I have things I wish were different. A lot of them huge differences. Some small. Point is, in all aspects I long for improvement and the feeling of "arriving". Or at least in one area. And if I could "arrive" in just one area, I know I'd be so much better off. I'm over here like "Lord, just give me the golden ticket and charmed life in just a handful of these categories, please? I'm not even asking for near-perfection in all of them. Just like...2. Maybe 3. You pick. Just a couple of times where Your will matches mine?" (See what I did there? Put God in a box by demanding Him to match my will. I'm very mature.) Proverbs says something about how a hope unfulfilled makes a heart sick. This is what happens to me. And when you have so many dreams, unmet, it's hard. (Did I mention that I'm also a perfectionist and total idealist? Because I am. Goes quite nicely with the control freak part, don't you think?) And in the midst of hopes and dreams, and my ideals unmet, I see tons of Grace. I believe in so many ways, the delay in the fulfillment of these goals and hopes is truly God's protection. He has to break me of my idolatry, need to prove myself and misplacing my identity if I had realization of those dreams and longings. Even with this awareness, I still find myself breaking down into something like the adult version of a gigantic temper tantrum. Accusations. Anger. Because Anger is the body guard of Sadness.
I'm going to make a few assumptions from here on out in this next paragraph. 1) You have seen Inside Out or 2) YOU WILL STOP READING THIS NOW AND WATCH INSIDE OUT! :)
As I watched the movie, I totally got Joy. Charismatic, even-keeled, optimistic, bubbly, fun. Also, a bit of a control freak, ignores Sadness, and has a hard time figuring out what to do with Anger. But, just like in the movie, what happens when you ignore Sadness too long, and finally, steps outside her lines? When she's touched Core Memories? What happens when Anger gets control? This year has been one of the hardest years of my life. A lot of grief and loss. A lot of sadness. A lot of hard choices, circumstances and change. A lot of my own personal crap to sift through and own up to. A couple of months ago, I finally completely broke. I felt like Joy trying to keep it all together, babysitting the rest of the gang, doing okay, until... One day it happened...and Sadness didn't just step outside her lines...But ran wild.
Then, I read Psalm
43:5 “Why are you downcast, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God.” I’ve
always felt like that verse was basically a self pep-talk...about as helpful as a team cheer. But I couldn’t be more wrong. What I now actually see
happening in this Psalm, is the Psalmist inviting God into their “downcast
soul”. I think it’s less of “Get your crap together, man!” and more “I need
Thee every hour..." and "Just As I am....”
And what I've seen so far, is when I invite God into my broken places, He meets me there. About the same time I broke, I also was rereading The Shack. (Disclaimer: I don't want to get into any of the controversy surrounding the book, or give the story away.) But I will say this: God has used it as a powerful reminder in my life of His deep desire for intimacy with us, and His gentle love. It's a precious reminder that the model of The Cross is that God meets us in, then redeems and transforms sources and emblems of Great Sadness.
In our American culture, much to our discredit, we don't do hard times. We pull up the boot straps. Put your hair in a pony tail and slap on the smile and lipstick and just handle it. Move forward. Or whatever. A few days, maybe a week, off work even after a deep loss, and it's back to the grind. We're experts at stuffing, and won't let much in the way of our chase of the phantom American Dream and pursuit of happiness. But you can't heal if you don't take in and pause to honor the pain you're in or the gravity of your loss. That's a beautiful thing we could learn from so many other cultures: the art of lament and grief. There is something incredibly maturing, freeing and beautiful about hard seasons. You have to learn how to grieve, and there's no easy way to learn. It's important to learn how to be honest and raw and even borderline disrespectful to God. Because what I keep on finding is that even in my toldler-like meltdowns, accusations, disbelief and general bratty and rebellious behaviors, Jesus has shown grace upon grace and been so patient with me. I mean so patient, guys. Because even more than my respect, obedience, or nice attitude, you know what He really wants? My honesty. The real me. Me. My heart. Lindy Glaser. Hot mess, shame, crappy attitude and all. Just as I am. Because those are the lowest parts of my life. And that, is exactly where His Grace FLOWS. And only He knows exactly how much I need His Grace.
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