I don’t know why, and I can’t give a reason or a way out, but I know that this year is really, really difficult. It’s like I’m pushed against and resisted and attacked every time I sit down to blog, every time I open my Bible, every time I talk to someone about God, every time I think about Him. I don’t understand what’s going on.
I don’t want this post to be me moaning and groaning about emotions and feelings and nonsense, because that’s just frustrating and really doesn’t help anyone, not even me. But I do want you to know that even though I’m sitting here, a T-chart of Lie v. Truth sitting in front of me, my head spinning, my heart splitting, God is still good, therefore, everything He does is good, even this.
Today I got hit with lie after lie and I had to fight against it, or at least see that it was a lie. After French class, I sat in the cafeteria with Bree, talking about the point of a story. It ended with my talking about how stories are meant to inspire people to be better, to launch them forward into action and to push them to do hard things so they can change the way they see life and live it. Granted, being truly whole and truly fulfilled doesn’t come from books, but rather only one Book. I talked to her about how in regular fiction, or at least fantasy, there’s always a hero and a villain, and sometimes it’s a tragedy, while other times the hero comes out victorious. The good guys seem to never win in real life, especially considering the ever-so-popular motto of “nice guys finish last,” so why would we write about that? Why not write about a place where the good guys do win, even though in real life they don’t? I then talked about how the Bible is like that, except the ending is already known, already written before the story even begins, and this story is real. God has already won, and that’s what’s going to happen, whether people believe it or not. The best part is I have no idea where those words came from, or even where the courage to say them came from. Bree stared at me, saying “I don’t know how to answer that,” and that’s when I realized what I’d said. But I told her she didn’t have to, and we left.
After lunch, I took the train to my internship, where I spent three or so hours working on query letters and such. It’s odd being on the opposite side of the screen, the one receiving the query instead of sending it. And it’s a hard lesson to learn, figuring out which queries to accept and which to reject, but I’m learning. The whole time, I talked to God. I sorted through my thoughts to look for more lies I’d been believing, the ones I’d been living because of being spiritually asleep and passive for too long. I continued to fight and deny and purge as I sat in the quiet office of the literary agency, calmly, as if there weren’t an invisible battle going on in the air around me.
I know, that sounded crazy, but it’s true.
On my walk home, I continued to talk to God, to sort through my thoughts, to fight, and to struggle. Lie after lie came up, things like, “God isn’t really enough,” and “You’ll always be this way,” and “You have no right to write about, talk to/about, or even pray to God,” and “Gossiping is fine,” and “You mess up and doubt too much to help anyone grow in their walk with God.” And all I could do was keep walking, and take it, because I was weak, and I needed my Bible, which was sitting on my desk in my dorm room.
When I got home, I changed and ate dinner, pulling out my Bible and continuing my reading of Lies Women Believe by Nancy Leigh DeMoss (I think it’s no coincidence that that was the one random book I brought with me that I had an odd feeling I might need this semester). Eventually, I skyped my mom, and things, however momentarily, began to shift back into perspective. When I hung up, I jumped in the shower and tried to relax.
But then, as I sat at my computer, getting ready to write, I was nailed with the same lies over and over again. I can’t explain how it feels, only that there’s this huge pain in my head and in my chest where everything I know is resisting being pulled out and exchanged for something that looks like the truth but that I know really isn’t. But then I remembered the weapons God gave me, and I remembered that, however mysterious and great, He’s incredibly practical, and God wouldn’t send me into a fight without giving me a weapon. I pulled out my Bible, yanked out a notebook, flailed for a moment as I scrambled for a pen, and I wrote the lie on one side of the paper and the truth on the other, and I began to let God’s word destroy each one.
I really haven’t the slightest idea as to what’s going on or why now or why at all, but I do know that God will win. God. Will. Win. And I have confidence that He will win in me. Looking back on where I’ve been and what I was like before Him, I can honestly say that I do not want to live the rest of my life outside of an intimate relationship with Him. I can’t do it. I won’t. I refuse. I will not settle for anything less than being with Him, even if I have to fight this hard and go against the grain of the world and apologize and mess up and put myself low when everyone else promotes making their way to the top and sacrificing every dream I’ve ever had and forgetting every expectation I had for the future. I do not want to live without Him.
“Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world.”
—1 Peter 5:8-9, ESV