{but if not...}

recently i stumbled at random across a tiny book in my church library, entitled, 'The Prisoner in the Third Cell', by Gene Edwards. 

i truly had no idea what it was about, only that the cover seemed intriguing, so i grabbed it. i started reading it... and from page one, i was in tears. 

and not just...'a few teardrops filled my eyes' sort of tears, but full-out sobbing. somehow, a tiny book, no greater than 100 pages, changed my entire perspective on the purpose for pain. 

we are so obsessed with the idea that 'someday' the pain will be meaningful. at least, i know i am. i cling to the idea that He will make beauty from the brokenness, and that i will see His purpose for what, right now, seems utterly pointless. 

someday I'll see why He doesn't heal me..someday I'll see why i still struggle...someday all this pain will have purpose, and in a Joseph moment, I will be able to say that what was meant for evil has been used for good. 

but what if...what if i never see it? at least, never on this earth? what if i come to the end of it all, and i still know nothing more than i knew at the beginning? 

what if i come to the conclusion that He could have saved and healed, and yet, for some reason, He didn't. and what if i never see the purpose? 

there have been countless throughout history who never saw relief, who never glimpsed healing, who even - like John the Baptist - went to death never knowing why they were not rescued. 

my pastor touched on it this morning, when he called to our attention the way that God, in Acts 3, rescued Peter, and yet, allowed James to be brutally murdered.

Why did He save one and not the other? why did he heal some, and not all? why did centuries of His people cry out for deliverance, never to see it? why do His people still cry out for answers in the face of their pain, in the face of their brokenness, in the face of appalling horror, never to be answered, never to see any good come from the grief which has been caused? 

"all they will ever known in this lifetime is that I did not come to them in their hour of greatest need"

when all seems lost, sometimes He does not show up. sometimes He, in His sovereignty allows horrific things to happen, and i cannot see the purpose for it, and i may never see the purpose for it. all i may ever know is that I cried to Him and He was silent and He did not answer and did He see how my heart was breaking? !

"worst of all, from God came no explanation concerning His ways. many were healed. but not all". and what do you do when you cry to Him for healing, for defense, and He does not come? when you spit Psalm 91 bitterly back into the teeth of the sky, angry..so angry..so hurt..because the God you expected to save you...didn't. 

in fact, that God allowed you to be hurt, allowed you to be misused and mistreated and abused and betrayed and defiled he will not remove the thorns and you take offense at that, heartbrokenly demanding why. 

'why? after i have served and loved you, and i am walking in your ways, and i have given all for you....why would you let this happen to me?'

'why? after i have cried and prayed and followed and loved you....why would you heal others, and not heal me?'

'whatever happened to, 'a thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand, yet it shall not come nigh thee'??'

'did You not mean what You promised, when You said that if I call to you in the day of trouble, You will answer and You will defend, and why, when I needed you, did you..not?'

well the book continues, "you have now come face to face with a God whom you do not fully understand. You have met a God who has not lived up to your expectations...today you are resentful of those who so callously hurt you. But no, not really. The truth is you are angry with God because, ultimately, you are not dealing with men you are dealing with the sovereign hand of your Lord." 

because if He knows all things, if He is all powerful and all-seeing, then nothing comes to me, whether joy or pain, without His allowing it. 

"The question is not, 'why is God doing this? Why is He like this?' the question is not, "Why does He not answer me?" the question is not, "I need him desperately, why does He not come rescue me?" the question is not, "why did God allow this tragedy to happen to me, to my children, to my wife, to my husband, to my family?" not is it, "Why does God allow injustices?" 

because i have asked every single of those questions countless times... because my soul cries out for answers, screams from the depths of my pain, 'my God, why? why have you forsaken me?' 

"The question before the house is this: 'will you follow a God you do not understand? will you follow a God who does not live up to your expectations?'"

because i expect certain things from the hand of the Most High, such as protection and justice and peace and joy and a spirit that sings in the face of grief, and I expect that He will shield and make things right and render retribution, and what of it when He doesn't? 

"Your Lord has put something in your life which you cannot bear. The burden is simply too great. He was never supposed to do this! But the question remains...will you continue to follow a God who did not live up to your expectations?" 

but what does that even look like? what does it look like to follow God even when He does not live up to my expectations?

...well, there's a story i read yesterday...about three young men in a fiery furnace, who stared senseless viciousness in the face and proclaimed that "our God will deliver us...but if not, we will still follow Him". 

our God will deliver... but if not... if not, still He is good. if not, still he has a purpose. if I never see that purpose on this earth, then, i will see it when heaven and earth pass away and I stand before His face. 

but, then again, who knows? 

perhaps, when I find myself before His throne, i will find that He is the answer? 

after all, "what other answer would suffice? only words, words; to be led out to battle against other words".

i do not know why, but...i know whom i have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I've committed to Him against that day. 

and in that, i shall learn to find my peace. 

Lessons on being a woman (street harassment)

you are alone, my love

whatever else you may think

you are so, so alone

there is no one to be there for you, or to come to your defense

there is no one to protect you from the men who will come -

and believe me, they will come -

so it is up to you to protect yourself

when he whistles at you, ignore him - pretend that you didn't hear and that you are deaf to the cutting piercing shrillness

when his eyes roam you up and down with a leer, learn to keep your own eyes trained on the sidewalk so he doesn't see the flash of anger and shame in them

when he holds the door open with a gentlemanly gesture, only to firmly grab your ass as you walk through, stifle the impulse to jump or slap him across the face - instead, duck your head as you wrap your arms closely around your body and keep walking

always keep walking

when he calls out insults and sexual propositions, do not respond - do not dignify his crude crass words with a reply - he does not deserve it, and neither do you

when he comes up behind you to snake an arm low and whisper in your ear, set your jaw, walk away, and do not look back. 

when he follows you, lose him in a crowd or duck into a dark alley until he passes by and your pulse returns to normal.

when he threatens to rape you, walk quickly yet without reply to a public place, and do not leave until he does, finger on pepper spray, trigger, taser. 

when he corners you to insist upon your number, invent a name and number then smile sweetly and keep walking

do not say no

do not anger him

do not let your head come up in wounded fury

do not let him know he has hurt you

do not let him see the tears that sting your eyes as you try again and again in vain to swallow them

do not smile or walk freely - make yourself smaller, less noticeable

when you greet the, man standing outside the elevator, a stranger, for-all-intents-and-purposes innocent, with a visible start and a look of pure terror, remember that this is normal

you do not know what his true intentions are

when even the old men are lascivious, do not remind them of their wives, or ask them, with biting tongue, if they would behave thus towards their own daughter - instead do not look at them and do not stop

do not stop - now now, not ever - not until you are safely within the confines of wherever it is that you can breathe freely

and then, my dear, only then

can you cry. 

rage. 

scream. 

wrap trembling arms around your waist as you attempt to physically hold yourself together, curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor. 

then, draw a deep shuddering breath. 

stand back up. 

infuse your eyes with fire and your spine with strength 

open the door. 

face the world. 

walk. 

on disappearing

i'm disappearing.

'tell my love to wreck it all / cut out all the ropes and let me fall' sort of disappearing.

i'll be back in three weeks. i'll be back in a month.. if i'm back at all.

i make no promises.

there's so many reasons, but i'm realizing they all collide in one main reason, one primary heartbreak, which has been building for months, compelling me to this

because i am such a mess, i am such a wreck, still, even after all this time, and i am convinced that my friends would be so much better off without me, and i can no longer handle the stress of my life, and i am hyper sensitive which convinces me that people are withdrawing from me - whether they are or are not - and i feel that it is unfair to burden them with the sorry pathetic mess that i consistently am and have been.

and this may be wrong, but i look around, and what i see in my friends is....normalcy.

people who love and are loved by their family

people who do not fall apart at the touch of a hand

people who can smile and laugh and it doesn't exhaust their entire self to do so

people who do not walk away from a hug without looking back, because their eyes are streaming with tears, because for the first time in years, they felt...safe

people who can love and be loved without running in panic from past traumas translated into present day terrors 

and i have spent so many years frantically grasping at love, dying for the assurance that someone genuinely cared and wouldn't just walk out on me as soon as i let down my guard.

for too many years, that has been the irrational driver of my existence

but now? now that i have friends who do care, friends who i know love me?

now i am convinced that i need to prove myself worthy of that love.

because after all, who constantly and consistently sticks around, if they don't see improvement? .... hint: no one.

maybe God, but that's different. even God insists that we keep moving forward

but when i'm still a mess, it doesn't make sense to me to expect my friends to keep up with that, to be ok with that, to not grow fed up and walk out.

so before they get frustrated with my inability to get better, i'll leave. i'll leave first, and learn how to live without them, to cut out all the ropes and still not fall, so that when they leave, i won't be devastated.

and if i cannot do that, then at least, i will come back whole. i will come back normal. i will come back as beautiful and effortless and confident and clean and deserving of the love that they've given to me.

i will wipe away all the stains and i will make my heart clean, and i can just see God looking down on me like, 'you know this is not the way', so fine God, you do it, but i don't need other people yet, do i?

i can't depend on them, i can't let myself care what they think...i cannot give away my heart to something that could be gone tomorrow, without so much as a backwards glance.

i refuse to let myself depend on them. and i am growing to do just that - depend on them. let myself be swayed by their opinions and concerns, and i can't afford to do that 

i can't afford to know the things they tell me - to know how dysfunctional my family can be, to know that there is not something fundamentally flawed with me, to know that i do not have to prove myself worthy of love because i have always had to. 

i need to sort out the panic attacks, to sort out my life, to sort out becoming better and who i am and what i am and oh God how do i make peace with the things in my past that have destroyed me yet at the same time have made me who i am today?

i also need to learn how to be a woman - to revisit concepts i disregarded a long time ago, like emotional purity and femininity and purity and courtship and submission and my role as a woman in a conflicted world

i need to learn to handle the demons on my own, with nothing but the God of heaven beside me. i need to hide away for a really long time with nothing between me and destruction but God and my own soul. 

i need to give the love and nurture to my family that they deserve, and if they insist on piling more than these small shoulders can hold, then i will carve more shelves, and pray to atlas for the strength to succeed. 

and yes i realize that this is a risk, it's not safe, it will hurt, and i risk losing my identity completely to who my parents wish me to be. 

i realize that my friends could absolutely forget me, stop caring, walk away, in the meantime, and i will be genuinely shocked if anyone actually cares enough to check in or make sure that i'm only disappearing and haven't disappeared. 

and i don't say that because i don't think they care. i know they do. i just also know how life works, and that it's utterly possible that i will come out my self-imposed seclusion to discover that all my friends are no more. and i would sooner think of holding something as ridiculous as their gender against them, than of holding that against them. 

and in all brutal honesty, i don't know for sure if this will work, or if i will accidentally drown myself - even though i am supposed to text someone if i need help, i doubt i truly will. too independently stubborn, i guess. 

i don't honestly know. i don't know that i'm making the right decision, but i have to try. 

it's better than going insane, it's better than continuing on the way we've been.

and the only thing i know for sure is that i must try. 

i have to.