Sunday, July 8, 2012
Where is He?
I'm relatively intelligent. I've a graduate degree in counseling. But it is all words. All of it: the right thing to say, the right emotion to show. I'm not feeling it.
I want to grieve my dad's death. Oh, how I love him! I want to sob and sob and sob for him. I feel like a shit because I held his arm down for an IV when he didn't want the IV. And I'll never forgive myself for that. I thought I was helping.
I want to feel the connection between Christ and me: not the way others think I should feel, not from the perspective how others have witnessed Christianity from other humans but the way I feel about it. Which is SO hard to explain and I know I sound crazy.
So how do I react? I break myself down and down and down until all that is left of me is the absolute minimum - the real me. When my mind and body are not strong enough to avoid the fear and pain, then maybe I can deal with it.
I was really, really sick once. About 23 years ago. Sore throat, headache, body aches - the kind the lasted over a week. I was so sick that I didn't go to my daughter's school concert and trust me, I have to be at death's door to miss anything like that. At that time I felt the most vulnerable and that my body and mind weren't there to protect me from my feelings. I think this is where I need to go. It is my purpose of two marathons in a month. I need to beat myself down until I deal with my dad's death and until I hear God.
I know He is there. But I don't know how to find him.
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