Bleeding Hearts

Spiritual Lessons 

Bleeding Hearts 

I'm sitting alone on the shore. I'm holding my heart in my hand and no-one notices. Or worse: they do, they just don't care. A family member walks by and accidentally stomps on my raw and vulnerable emotions. I look around to find some way of numbing, but can't find it. I'm bleeding inside out. Someone I look up to, passes by. I hang my heart on a clothes line – stark and obvious. Who wants to force people into acknowledging your heart? Who wants to demand that your needs must be met? They don't even notice. I used to starve for someone to understand. I yearned to be wanted outside of my capabilities. But even that has become stale. I get up and walk away from the shoreline towards the rocks. I want to be left alone. I want people to stop hurting me. I want to cover up those exposed nerve endings. I want to stop caring and feeling. Someone close to me, walks by. I don't even stop. To be ignored with your heart in your hand is insulting. I cry aloud and no one cares. But at least there's dignity in silence.

A friend runs up to me and extends their hand. How unexpected! I suddenly feel self conscious – they want me to hand over my heart so they can peek into that deeper private place. Isn't this what I've been waiting for? Why do I want to hide? Here's my chance! I timidly open the door to my heart to let them in. Do they expect a cheerful welcome after such long abandonment? They don't even look inside. They reach in and pull with one intrusive yank. “Look friend, see my heart? Listen to my hurts!”

I stare back. I used to sit, like a puppy on the other side of the glass door, expectantly watching; wagging my tail every time someone seemed to be approaching. It almost makes me angry that I was so foolish. With my back to the glass, somehow I will find healing.

I sit on the shore. Jesus walks by. He calls and I pat the sand next to me. Jesus sits down and I hand Him my heart. Gently He holds it. I open the door to it and He smiles. We talk a long time. I tell Him how hurt I am and He nods and understands.

“Why are you so hurt?” He finally asks.

Isn't it obvious? I expect to be treated at least like a human being. And instead they treat me like dirt. “How do you plan on healing?”

I shrug. I guess I will just expect their unjust treatment.

“What if you chose not to expect anything?”

I look up into His kind but mysterious face. “You mean, not to expect them to treat me kindly?”

He nods.

“And not to expect them to treat me painfully?”

He nods again. “You're expectations are molds you've made to cast people in...maybe try expecting nothing.”

I walk to the beach. I am quiet but not in despair. I cannot recast others. I have decided to hold no expectations of them. Not to expect them to reach out , and not to expect them to trompel me. I will not depend on others, but neither will I throw them away to embrace independence.

A friend waves to me from a distant path. My thoughts don't travel down to what “should be”. I still face fear, but with no resentment. They quickly pass me by, without so much as a casual glance at my bleeding heart. I am effected but not undone. I have not given up on anyone.

Someone dear comes to me with extended arms. At first I wince...and then I remember – no expectations. She is smiling. I want to turn away -- she doesn't care about the bloody heart I hold. But that's when I notice. In her hand she holds a bleeding heart. I ache for her. I ask. She sits down and I sit next to her and we cry over her bleeding heart. Somehow it washes a little of her blood away and we talk way into the night.

I finally get up to leave. I look around for my heart. Smiling, my friend hands it to me. I hadn't even noticed that she had taken it. I hug her and start down the path for home. And there in the moonlight I suddenly realize my heart isn't bleeding. I turn it over to make sure it's mine. Yes, there are the old scars. But somehow, while I was caring about my friends heart, my own had stopped bleeding. 

Related Posts:

Starless

 

Haunted 

 

Haunted Part II

Spiritual Lessons

Haunted
Part II

Recently I shared with you my thoughts on depression (Starless). And even more recently some lessons I have learned from depression (Haunted Part I).   This is the rest of my lessons.  I hope I can reach at least one person and bless your heart. 

Expressing myself.

I often cannot even pin-point the cause of my depression. There is closure in understanding what is bothering me. I can do this by writing (Express Yourself to Health). It helps me not to give in to bitter thoughts or condemnation. I can share them with Jesus. And through my sharing with Him in the past I've come to realize that I don't have to be stable. He is. It doesn't matter if I don't feel hope – there IS one. (Joel 3:10) Weeping, vulnerably, exposing my heart to Jesus allows him to be a balm to my heart. It allows Him to defend me. And it also brings me to a place where I can choose to be thankful. I've listed my hurts and now can find things to be thankful for.

Reaching out beyond my own need and finding others to lift up.

In His mercy God has given me others that I can relate to and comfort and share with because He has allowed me to travel the dark path of depression. This is a constant comfort of my soul. When I reach out to others and they can confide in me because I too have been where their soul now sinks I realize my pain wasn't in vain. He may be bringing you through this very same place so you can lift someone else up. That others may be healed. Hebrews 12:12-13. Allowing Him to lift me up is a testimony to those who don't believe in Him. (Ps. 4:6-8)

Knowing I have never regretted my nights and tears.

“Sometimes tears are my bread and drink, the dark my table and hopelessness my only company. But how sweet to realize that even in those bitter times He doesn't change and He doesn't forsake. How “normal” it is to cry out “how long Lord?” and “Why Jesus?....Give ear O Shepherd!” How inevitable for Him to come to His child. He knows exactly how long our night will last, even must last. ...My burdens have not been removed but I know that in your mercy you can remove them from my shoulder. I feel like I have been spit out the other side of a grinder. I believe my wounds have definitely left me changed. Scarred yes, but with lessons learned as well. ...Depression doesn't make sense. But I've learned the familiarity of the deep sinking sand of the miry pit and the capability of my Jesus to let me there and rescue me just because He cares.”

– Toni Hutto, March 5^th 2015 entry

Not anxiously battling

Facing my giants is quite different than desperately battling for a good result (sleep, happiness, peace). but quietly accepting the negative (insomnia, melancholy, disturbance) and choosing to recognize it and simply move on is facing these giants and brings peace.

“It is difficult for the unrestored soul to lie down in green pastures as to lie down in barren wastes...Prosperity lies not in the greenness of the pastures, adversity lies not in the barrenness of the wastes; they both lie within. The joyous heart will make all things joyful...the restless heart will make all things unrestful...thou canst extract joy out of sorrow.” ~ George Matheson Moments on the Mount p.69

Seeing guilt as sin, and recognizing the difference between guilt and conviction.

"There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus...ye are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God dwell in you...ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father... If God be for us, who can be against us? ...Who shall lay anything to the charge of God's elect?  It is God that justifieth.  Who is he that condemneth?  It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at he right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us.  Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?"
Romans 8:1+9+15+31+33-35

Recognizing that my pain over haunting evil thoughts are actually proof of purity.

“There is a pain which is the proof of convalescence, the sign that death is not yet. There is a pain which tells that the wound is not yet mortified, that there is life yet left in the mutilated member. There is a pain which is symptomatic of purity, which grows with the progress of purity, which cannot be felt by the impure. No conscience can feel the wound of sin but the tender conscience, no spirit can perceive it's own unrest but the regenerated spirit. Ought not the sight of such pain be dear to thy Father's heart? ...If He shall see thee unsatisfied with the earth, then indeed it is meet that He should be glad, for by the very want which earth cannot fill, He knows assuredly for by the very want which earth cannot fill, He knows assuredly that thou art made for Himself alone.” – George Matheson, Moments on the Mount p.103

Our flesh, or the enemy, will attack you in your imaginations and dreams if you have pledged purity.  He is King of our imaginations and dreams.  He is in control.  He will take them away.  But just as sleep cannot be chased to be obtained, we cannot fret over the evil dream or words and expect them to go away.  If you dwell on guilt and evil then that is what will re-play.  Focus on promises. (Phil 4:7-8; Ps.46:2; Deut. 31:6; 1 John 4:18; Is.30:15)  "Create in me a clean heart oh God and renew a right spirit within me!" (Psalm 51:10) This was cried by David.  A man that struggled with purity.  And yet he was a man after God's own heart. 

It's always a help to me, to remember that Jesus took on himself the seed of Abraham and suffered temptation so he might be able to succour us that are tempted.  (Hebrews 2:16-18).  He understands our temptations.  He desired to be a merciful and faithful priest of our souls.  He desired not only to succour us in salvation, but in our earthly existence as well.   He can relate to your temptation.  He knows how it feels.   

***

I hope this post was somehow an encouragement to you.  We are in a battle with a fierce enemy.  Flaming darts will come.  Don't feel guilty when they do.  You are only targeted because of your obvious stand.  The enemy often attacks us in places God has chosen to prove strong in.  If your thought life is under attack, and your purity under siege, know that it is because God has a plan for your life.  The enemy sees you as a soldier to take out.  He plays dirty -- he will use guilt.  It's okay to be weak in these areas.  It only means we will rely all the more readily on Someone mightier than we are! 


Related Posts:


Silly Scribble # 3 An Open Door 


An Abyss and Mass of Mercies

 

Starless 

Haunted Part I

Spiritual Lessons 

Haunted
Part I

Recently I shared with you my thoughts on depression (Starless). This is not an observation but the lessons I learned from it. I hope this is a blessing to at least one person.

It's not wrong to hurt. It's not giving in to weakness to acknowledge you feel wounded. It's okay to cry...to weep until you groan and rock back and forth and let everything flow. It's not something to feel ashamed of and hide from. Depression is real and not just something “in your head”. It's physical, emotional, spiritual. It's a roller coaster. It's dark. It is a vulnerable place to be, but not a sin. Evil thoughts may come to hover over you, but the choice still remains yours whether to dwell on them, believe them and accept them, or not.

Fear is ungodly. But depression isn't necessarily. David cried out “Verily thou art a God that hidest thyself”. Job also cried “...to day is my complaint bitter: my stroke is heavier than my groaning. Oh that I might find him! That I might come even to his seat. I would order my cause before him and fill my mouth with arguments.” Job 23:2-5

And God never condemned these men's cries and pleadings.

I'm not sure that everyone deals with depression or evil haunting thoughts. But at least at some point in everyone's life they have cried themselves to sleep, or grasped desperately at peace, or felt alone and hurt. It isn't just me. C.S. Lewis said grief is like “an invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in.” – A Grief Observed p. 3

Friends of mine have shared their struggles and hurts, and their private sorrows.

What to do when these plagues come? What helped me find peace?

Acceptance of the roller coaster.

Even before I felt God reaching out to me, I decided I wasn't going to dread the up and down emotions depression inevitably brings. I found an assurance in the predictability of depression. In the familiarity of it. I recognized it when it stole upon me, and I could readily accept it and not fret when it knocked on my heart's door. And surprisingly, it didn't hurt like before. My fear of it was half the pain I was experiencing. And without the fear I could face depression much more objectively and quietly. He is still Jesus when my roller coaster emotions have peaked, and when I'm at the bottom. Whether I'm struggling up the tracks or rushing down them I'll simply trust Him and be faithful.

Having someone hear me out.

One of the worst parts of depression is the discomfort of being alone. Whether it's true or not, you feel...you know, that no one cares and could possibly understand. In the midst of it I'm unsure anyone could effectively prove to me otherwise. But, I once had someone listen to me share my experience of hurt and depression. She didn't try to “fix” it. She didn't try to compare her own struggles to mine. She wasn't shocked when I admitted that death seemed comforting, but she didn't just nod and act like it was totally okay and normal. She sincerely empathized and listened, and simply told me she would pray for me. That's it. And from that moment on I was able to move forward. I was even able to see how God had used her to bring me relief...and it proved His love and mercy and allowed me to realize heaven wasn't silent after all.

Realizing joy is my strength and seeking it.

Joy can sometimes sound unappealing when I'm hurting. I guess some would think it silly that the opposite symptom to pain would be unwelcome, but in the moment it sounds unobtainable and even weaker than the heavy hurt and melancholy of depression. Joy doesn't seem real compared to how I'm feeling. Sometimes there is even a warped sense of gratification in sitting alone in my darkness. But it's then I must remind myself that the joy of the Lord is my strength. That it's there for the asking. And what follows joy is thankfulness. And what follows thankfulness is always peace. It's inevitable. With this sometimes comes a fear that He won't give me joy. And then I will be plunged into deeper depression because I dared to call and He didn't come. But then comes the next helpful thing –

Not expecting deliverance in a miraculous way.

I have come to learn that He decides when joy comes. My night of weeping may last weeks....but my morning of joy will come. Joy is but for the asking. But He gives it in His time and in His way. There will be a sunrise. But there is no protocol to joy. As well as getting out of depression. And without protocol, without any expectations, I'm left completely dependent on Him, and that is a good thing. Joy isn't a pill I can take, but simply a gift that He gives when I ask and want it. He might not come to me in some miraculous epiphany. I might not feel deliverance right away. But He will come. He has promised not to forsake us. We can cling to his promises despite our emotions. He says he understands how we feel. Hebrews 2:16-18. It has always helped me to talk and cry out to God even in defiance to my feelings. He will come.

Accepting silence as an answer.

“When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of 'No answer'. It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, 'Peace, child; you don't understand.'

Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. How many hours are there in a mile? Is yellow square or round? Probably half the questions we ask – half our great theological and metaphysical problems – are like that. – C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed, p.69

My asking 'why' is not proof of sin. My grief isn't a lack of love. Crying out in pain is not evil. Neither is His silence. If He is silent it is on purpose...and most likely I'm not willing to hear Him out just yet. He will come. He will comfort. He will answer. It may just be “Peace child, you don't understand.”

Not beating myself up for being an emotional wreck.

You are not a pitiful weakling if you struggle with depression or are haunted by your past, or are burdened by your emotions. It's nothing to be guilty about. Forgive yourself. As a child of the King we don't have to stay in depression. If these are your enemies, accept that fact. Others struggle with pride, a hot temper, a critical spirit... these are their “giants”. You happen to struggle with Giant Depression, or doubt, or fear. Hiding the fact won't help you. Giving into doubt and fear is evil, but having them attack you is not your fault and nothing to grieve over. They will come, but Christ knows your personal giants and has already equipped you with armor to fight them –

Not ignoring the pain, the ache, the fear, the loneliness, the betrayal.

The last thing you feel like is engaging depression when you are depressed. I get that. Depression may seize you without your consent. We still have a choice – give into it and wallow there, or recognize it and give it up to Jesus. Your emotions will eventually follow your choice to give it up. We can choose not to allow it to make us angry. I always have to choose to be hurt rather than to be bitter. To accept it. Not to bottle my emotions and allow them to sit pent up. We can never let go of pain sources until we are willing to face them. Pain loses a lot of it's intimidation when it's not ignored. Brings closure.


Click here for Haunted Part II