I have figured out some things. If there’s one thing I am, it’s a processor. I consider, weigh, contemplate…and eventually, I come to some realizations, revelations, conclusions. I may not have figured out everything about the struggle I started to go through in 2020; but I have been able to now see some things that weren’t clear to me before. The fog has begun to lift, and I can hear God saying that some things are of more value than I had previously thought.
When our state shut down—and stayed that way, way past the predicted two weeks—I began to shut down too. I am emotionally susceptible to environment; and as my surrounding environment continued to get more and more crazy, things were unfixable deep in my soul. I continued to function—but in a very concealed way; what I mean by that is that I kept my true emotions hidden, buried for the most part, in order to keep going—and try not to feel crazy, along with the world around me.
As I became aware of misinformation and incongruencies regarding data being proliferated, I became less and less trusting of people in general. I can now see that aiming some of that discontent at my church—because they weren’t “speaking up” against the status quo of Covid as much as I felt should be the case—was actually a form of projecting some disappointment in myself, as well as looking for a way out of any social interaction or responsibility, because I no longer felt capable—or stable.
The truth is, my church has navigated through the quagmire in the best way they knew how—and in a very honorable way. But the ramifications of compliance seemed so big, so spiritually compromising and potentially devastating, that I became incredibly frustrated. I couldn’t understand how Christians could support an agenda that was actually hurting people—and destroying our freedoms as Americans. I knew of some individuals who upheld beliefs that were opposed to mine, but others…well, they were “dangerous” because I didn’t know for sure what they believed—and those included some of my church leaders. So I developed less and less trust—and more callouses around my heart.
I felt “informed,” but ironically I didn’t feel good about it. Justified maybe, but not happy—or empowered. Because I had chosen an extreme position in terms of mandates and such, I lost respect for those who weren’t overtly in that camp. And believing that I couldn’t trust or respect my church body as a whole caused me to become more and more isolated and insecure. And, admittedly, less Jesus-focused.
I didn’t stop to consider that my pride might be involved. As I tried to navigate, it was as if my boat got caught in a whirlpool—but I thought everyone else’s boats were going to capsize—not mine. When there is disagreement, it can’t be approached with anger. You can’t confront people with vinegar and expect sweet results. I really tried to avoid sour interactions on Facebook, but I began to avoid interactions altogether—and inside I was getting pretty vinegary. For lack of a better term, I was holding a grudge against brothers and sisters who saw things differently.
Don’t get me wrong—I fully believe that my spiritual take on all this has been accurate—but what hasn’t been healthy was the imbalance I allowed it to cause in my spirit. The negativity I entertained. And the cynicism I developed as a result. I reasoned that if my church wasn’t going to fully, accurately represent the truth—by speaking out against popular opinion—I could no longer attend. I expected more of my church that I did of myself.
When I finally started listening again, I heard God’s voice telling me that this was not me—I am compassionate and merciful by nature; but I wasn’t extending that to brothers and sisters. Granted, I feel that some of what has happened politically in this past season has created a divide that has polarized the church, somewhat necessarily—but that’s where I need to allow Jesus to build the bridge. In my heart, instead, I was saying ‘you stay over there; I don’t want you over here; you are wrong.’ Whether or not I believe someone to be utterly wrong, I still must genuinely love and embrace them, if I am to represent God’s heart. It’s all gotten too adversarial out there. For me, it was mostly internal—and at one point, it actually began to make me physically ill.
In the throes of my disillusionment with the new landscape I saw forming in society, I left the last ministry I was a lead part of within the church. While it reduced my stress level for responsibility, it also gave me permission to back away—as I became more and more disappointed in people. The Bible says that we are to think on whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, and admirable…”if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (Philippians 4:8). I believe this applies to our attitudes about people as well. And it’s something I forgot to look for and dwell on during much of 2020.
In 2019, I co-taught a class at church on “The Language of the Spirit,” but I had stopped listening for the Spirit’s voice. I had allowed what I believed to be a holy agenda to take me to an unholy place.
It was during all this that my husband and I began searching—in the worst market possible—for a home to purchase. I had been told prophetically by John Carney in October of 2020 that the enemy had tried to corral me but that I was made for adventure (that’s kind of a simple paraphrase). So I embraced the adventurous process of house-hunting and placing offers, along with my husband. I wanted the adventure to feel like how most fairy tales end—everything is “happily ever after.” After a while though, this “adventure” started to feel a bit like Hansel and Gretel. It felt like we’d been stuffed in a cage and were just being fattened up in order to be devoured (a metaphor for others’ offers getting accepted above ours). If only Jesus would come to our rescue. And you know what? He did. The perfect home came along, and we got it! I had chosen to believe that God had something out there for us—and I never stopped believing that.
In terms of revival, I also believe God has something for us—but I had virtually stopped believing. I couldn’t see Him moving through the fog of Covid and the judgments I had made about those who saw the whole thing differently. The truth is—Jesus sees the big picture; He can prepare us all; He can redeem anything. Most who know me would agree that I am a loving, non-judgy person. But I had taken on the ugly weight of condemnation of those whose opinions seemed to me to be anti-Christian in nature. But I forgot the important truth that God looks on the heart. Even if beliefs don’t automatically line up, God sees the individual’s true intents.
So, even though I believe many of the conspiracy theories out there, I have stopped focusing on them. Instead, I am getting recalibrated to hear God’s voice. In order to do that, I realized that I needed to clothe myself “with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Bear with one another and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity” (Colossians 3:12-14--thank you, Andrew Foster, for sharing this Scripture).
There’s a part of me that remains so disappointed in myself—I gained back weight I’d lost, I quit a job I’d only had short-term, I quit being active in ministry, I stopped going to church, I fell into depression, I began to look on the dark side instead of the bright side—that I don’t want to be seen. It would be easier to “hide” in some warped sense of individualistic adventure—like Rumpelstiltskin. He didn’t want anyone to know who he was because that was the key to his vulnerability. And we all know how that ended. “…in his rage drove his right foot so far into the ground that it sank in up to his waist; then in a passion he seized the left foot with both hands and tore himself in two.” I feel like I’ve been tearing myself in two, trying to separate soul and spirit, trying to live as if everything is hunky-dory—even though it’s not.
God has brought me into a peaceful space—a beautiful home in the country—surrounded by birds and farmland. It is in that place of peace that I’ve begun to experience revelation about who I am. And faithful friends who keep telling me that I’m amazing, loving, powerful—all the things I have known to be true but had stopped believing fully. My identity.
So let me just leave you with this thought to ponder: Even though your heart is “in the right place”—i.e., you have the best intentions, you want to protect others, you have crucial information, etc.—your heart can be in the wrong place in terms of what thoughts it might be harboring. There might be areas that are festering—that have gone untreated for so long, it allowed the heart to become “infected.”
I want to embrace life again—live fully in the peace God has provided—and not allow a perspective to lead to toxicity. To have a heavenly “heartset,” if you will. Rich Mullins may have expressed it best in some of the lyrics to “If I Stand”:
“There's more that rises in the
morning than the sun
And more that shines in the night than just the moon
There's more than just this fire here that keeps me warm
In a shelter that is larger than this room
And there's a loyalty that's deeper
than mere sentiments
And a music higher than the songs that I can sing
Stuff of Earth competes for the allegiance
I owe only to the Giver of all good things
So if I stand let me stand on the
promise that you will pull me through
And if I can't, let me fall on the grace that first brought me to You
So if I sing let me sing for the joy that has born in me these songs
And if I weep let it be as a man who is longing for his home”
Not to be controlled by circumstances, but instead stand on God’s promises and live daily by His grace, in spite of it all. This world is not my final home—and I need to live with that perspective. If I have hurt any of you by my words, or if you feel like I have insulted your intelligence in any way over this last year and a half, please accept my sincere apology. I want God to be glorified in all I do. And that means…doing it His way.
