Quiet Desperation

Wednesday, September 17, 2003

When we were young, we used to make sand castles and dig a hole through the middle. I can remember my brothers being so meticulous in their work.
“Don’t collapse it,” one would urge while the other would dig ever so slowly and carefully through the middle. Finally there was the finished product: a mountain of smooth, beautiful sand, indestructible in appearance. Then one a gentle wave would wash up on shore, moving into the middle of the castle, and carrying it back out with it. The shell of a castle would soon collapse in on itself. It would disappear, disintegrating as we watched.

Last November I was that castle. I still believe I was suicidal. Maybe I wasn’t ready to kill myself, but it was the closest I’ve been to death. There was something more right about death at that time. Why? I’m not sure I knew then. But yesterday the full truth hit me with a slow and horrifying force.

Our chapel speaker is talking on how to get from “here” to “there” in our spiritual walk and yesterday he addressed fakeness. Everything he said hit home, from the fact that we lie to ourselves and that from a young age we learn how to create false images of ourselves to others to get praise and acceptance. But honesty is about integrity. And Integrity is what I had lost

He said integrity was happens when you are integrated. He said integration is when all the pieces fit together, when your outside life and inside life match up, when you are completely real with the world, yourself, and God. Otherwise, you are disintegrated.

I’d never thought of it that way! I was disintegrating inside as I built up my shell on the outside. I wasn’t being real with people, myself, or God! He said when we disintegrate, we die inside. When we are finally completely dead inside, there is only one way to reintegrate our lives. When we are struck with the reality of who we are, we may make one last attempt to realign our lives, inside and out and this can only happen by making the outside like the inside—killing ourselves.

And that’s how we commit suicide. That’s how I got to where I was last November. I was disintegrated inside, dying slowly. If I hadn’t spent that night sobbing in rushes of broken tears to God, I may never have gotten real in time. I may have disintegrated on the inside. I may have killed the outside, understanding that it was worth nothing anymore. But I got real with Him in time.

But today we talked about joy and doubt and striving for God’s approval. I’ve lost my joy, and to find it I have been striving to do the right things. I know I need to rely on the grace of God. I know that He loves me and I want to live a life of praise because of it.

At lunch I talked to the speaker for a good half hour or longer. It was such a blessing. I opened my heart and told him where I was and how much his talks have affected me. I thanked him for letting God speak through him. Then I started asking him about accountability. We discussed this for a long while. He told me about his two good friends who he gets together with every week and how they talk. He talked about sharing everything, confessing, discussing, and completely baring your soul. We talked about the difficulties of college life, the necessary fakeness, and the difficulty of finding trustworthy, nonjudgmental, and true friends. We talked about my own struggles and need for accountability. We talked about the format and basics of a group like that. At the end he looked at me with a sincerity and care in his eyes that was touching, and said, “I know it’s going to happen for you, Mary. I know you’re going to do it. You’re going to get what you ask for. I can tell your heart, and I know you’re in the right place.” And somehow I knew he was right. It wasn’t that I doubted that God cared or wouldn’t do it. It’s just that when he said that, I knew he saw the sincerity of my heart and I knew he knew how much I longed for this. I didn’t even know until I saw that he knew.

What an encouragement. It was amazing to be able to talk to a man of God like that. I rarely have that experience and I was thoroughly blessed. It was like talking to God Himself embodied in this man. I suppose that’s what happened. (: Thank you, God, for having lunch with me today. Thank You for using this man to touch my life so deeply. Thank You for changing me and finding me those true friends, and working in my life. I praise You for what I know You are and will be doing.

posted by Mary 11:56 PM