Dammit, now what?
October 27, 2009
I came to a disturbing and saddening conclusion the other day. I was checking out Pillar’s new website and found out that Kalel, one of the founding members, and Lester had left the band (there is a point to this trust me). I was taken aback and then I started reading about their new album (which is pretty darn good) and found out it was based on this thing they started on their last tour. It was a confession booth for people who came to the concerts to unload their hearts. And then I was there was a video of Rob’s confession (he’s the lead singer and another founding member). At first I wasn’t interested but the more I poked around the more I felt drawn to the video. So finally I said ok and watched it. Turns out his ‘confession’ was that he had, at one point, become embittered towards “God’s people” a.k.a. the Church. Hi, seeing any similarities? No? Well trust me they are there – I sort of talked about it when I talked about my struggle with depression. I haven’t wanted to talk about it for various reasons, one is that I’m fairly certain my family feels differently than I do even though we experienced the same thing (although after writing about Gram this one doesn’t feel as big of a deal as it used to), another is that I have regained contact with these people and I don’t want them to know that at one point I pretty much hated them, another is that it’s just too damn hard to put into words. My emotions are SO mixed about it that ambivalent would be a good description. I am ambivalent – pulled strongly in two different directions. I wrote about it once for a class and it helped a lot, but apparently not enough (this would be the “betrayal and redemption” piece I’ve reference a few times, looks like you guys will get to read it after all). Anyway, so Rob goes on in his confession to basically apologize and talk about how he came to the realization that the Church is good. And I’m sitting there watching it going “yup,” “uh-huh,” “been there,” “yeah I feel you on that,” and then *BAM* “what?” Looked around and thought — I was so sure I was past this by now God. Ok so it’s only been six years but still, I’m not her anymore…………am I?
Than why does this not feel done? I don’t hate them anymore. But I still hate. I hate that some of the most awe-some experiences of my walk with God took place there. I hate that I hate. I hate that history seems to have repeated itself. I hate that I can’t seem to let this go. I hate and it isn’t pretty. And now I feel a tug on my heart to pour it out in words. And I don’t want to. It’ll hurt and I’m sure lead to some unpleasant revelations not to mention that if I do this I run the risk of hurting them. And I don’t want to. I don’t want the revelations it’s sure to bring, the hurt. I WANT to shove it all in a box and forget about it. But God, it seems, has other plans because my mind has not let this go for about three weeks now and every time I say to God that I don’t want to He responds “You need to.” And He’s right (go figure, God being right, shocking I know) because I’ve done this sort of writing before and on the other side is healing and a moment of peace. It hurts like hell and I cry, a lot, and chance upon both unpleasant and heartbreakingly beautiful revelations…but I still don’t want to do it.
When I wrote about Gram I was scared of facing for the first time what Alzheimer’s did to her. When I wrote about my struggle with depression I was scared of facing those feelings of hopelessness and despair again. But this feels different. I’m scared sure, scared of what I might find out about myself but I think I’m more scared of letting go. How sick is that? I crossed that out but I think it’s partially true. For some reason I don’t want to let the hurt and hate go but I think it’s more that I’m terrified of what I’ll find in my heart. This will be the deepest I’ve ever gone and I don’t really know what’s down there. And part of the reason I don’t want to know is because “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also (Matthew 6:21).” Combined with “43 “For a good tree does not bear bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. 44 For every tree is known by its own fruit. For men do not gather figs from thorns, nor do they gather grapes from a bramble bush. 45 A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart brings forth evil. For out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks. (Luke 6:43-45).” What if what I find is a deep well of hate and that’s it? What if I find that my heart is so hardened it will take years upon years to fix it? What if I discover that I’m no different now than I was then? What if I find that my experiences weren’t genuine? What if I discover all the “progress” I think I’ve made never really happened? Should I even care? I mean really. Life is supposed to be all about growth and learning to be a better person and learning to honor and trust God and live for Him right? So if this catharsis will help me why am I so afraid? Personally I think this all stems back to that dream. Ever since then I’ve confronted things that were put in a box and shoved into the deepest, darkest corner I could find but this particular issue is probably the biggest, it’s like the elephant in every room I walk into, particularly if that room is a church. Intellectually I know I won’t be able to avoid this, it’s really hard to step around God and go about your merry way. He has a habit of following you no matter where you go and sometimes gently, sometimes not-so-gently reminding you that you haven’t escaped this task and then when you tell Him you don’t think you can or you don’t want, He smiles and reminds of everything you’ve already been through and says “if I didn’t think you could survive this I wouldn’t ask Gothique.” Damn, why does He have to be so understanding and patient and loving and right?
Whooooosh…
September 29, 2009
Did you hear that sound?
That was the sound of Gothique dodging a bullet…uninentionally. Let me explain, I went to my Advanced Writing class today fully expecting to have to go to my Professor after class was over and explain that I’d been sick and ask if it was possible that I could turn in my essay at the end of today, only to discover that apparently we never went over the rough draft last Thursday (I didn’t miss class that day on purpose, I overslept k?) which meant we went over it today. Which further means, according to the Prof, we have until NEXT Tuesday to get it done. Really?? *looks over shoulder* Ok the sun hasn’t gone out, I’m fairly certain I haven’t shifted to a parallel universe, maybe I time-traveled…nope watch says its 9-29-09……………..Wow, I totally felt that bullet pass me by. Cause it should’ve been due today, I should’ve spent the rest of the day in a total ‘beat on myself’ day, I should’ve had to turn in a half-ass paper and rewrite it. Now I have time, time to finish a rough draft, time to polish the final draft, I have time. What happened???
Well I’ll tell you the first thing that came into my mind (after I checked to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, that the world hadn’t ended and that I was in fact in the same universe of course) wow God you are so awesome! Thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!!! It’s like He’s really giving me a chance to live up to my promise to myself that this semester would be different, that I’d actually keep up on my homework and make my professors want me in another class. I can’t believe it. Tears spring up in my eyes just thinking about it. I really want to do well this semester and have been trying pretty hard so far. I never intended to not have this essay done. I just didn’t get to it in time. But now I can. I keep trying to think of ways to describe this feeling inside of me and pretty much the closest I can come is I dodged a bullet without even trying, I did nothing, I was prepared to take the consequences of my actions, I had steeled myself to the inevitable only to find out that the inevitable wasn’t so inevitable after all.
Are you sure this isn’t a parallel universe?