Just Emotions… [Mth 1-Day 9-Post 4]

I have a plethora of emotions tonight that are rolled up in a confusing tangle.
   I feel like a cheater…downing pizza, guzzling soda…when I ate so well the rest of the day.
I am mad at my physical therapist who says she doesn’t think I should run…at all…
  I was proud of last week…3 posts written, 3 pounds lost…but I’ve probably gained it back already.
I don’t feel like walking or doing any of my physical therapy tonight.
  I just feel like pouting.

Emotions are tumultuous and sometimes tortuous things. And the truth be told, they are not always the truth. For quite the majority of my life, I have allowed my emotions to reign, and the easy excuse was, “Well, I’m depressed. What do you expect?” Well, I’m not depressed any longer, so that ship has sailed. My husband will tell you of my many mood swings brought on by a twist in my day that I didn’t see coming. He didn’t like it. I didn’t like it. But I just couldn’t…no, I just wouldn’t stop it from happening. I didn’t care. I didn’t have the internal energy to.

I know so many people in our world battle depression like I did. I never thought there was hope for real healing. I had been on some kind of antidepressant for almost all of the 18 years I suffered with it. The medication kept me from jumping off balconies, but I certainly wasn’t doing cartwheels either. Countless therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists, and counselors couldn’t really lead me into the light, but they surely gave me plenty of practice at storytelling.

All the while, I think I carried this little space inside my heart filled with hatred towards God. Why had He allowed so much to happen in my life? How could He let this depression drag on and on? Did He really care about me? If He loves me so much, then, why? Why? Why? Why?

Jonah can understand that. I mean, I think he was pretty upset with God for telling him to move his butt on over to Nineveh to preach salvation to them. He hated the Ninevites with a passion and did not want to see them saved at all! I’m sure he had lots of emotions that started tangling up inside him. That is, until he finally burst in the belly of that big ol’ fish! Priscilla Shirer writes,

[Jonah] “cried out.” The Hebrew word implies intensity of action that was reserved only for the most heartfelt prayers. This word is only used 22 times in the Bible, and the majority of those times it is used autobiographically—as Jonah used it—to denote one who recognizes his own prayer as fervent and records: “I cried.” While fervent prayers do not always guarantee an affirmative answer from God, they do seem to capture his attention in a powerful way. (Jonah, 75)

It was February of 2011 when I finally “cried out” like that. And also just like Jonah, I cried out using the Psalms as prayers because my own words failed me. I chose Psalm 51.

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love…
       Let me hear joy and gladness;
             let the bones you have crushed rejoice…
Create in me a pure heart, O God,
       and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
    Do not cast me from your presence
              or take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation
     and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me…
   My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;
             a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise…

Those who were there on the retreat weekend where my deliverance from depression took place can tell you just how deeply, passionately I cried out. I wept and cried out with every breath in my lungs. Those who wept and prayed with me even had to hold my body up so that I could continue, I was using up all my strength. While the room was practically empty at the time, I could hear voices roaring around me; I kept my eyes closed tightly so I would not be distracted. It felt as if there were angels surrounding me interceding for me too. And my repetitive declaration was that I would not leave the room until I was laughing!

I captured Father’s attention that night, and He honored my request. Fellow prayer warriors had to carry me from that room to my bed as I laughed and relaxed with a joy so overwhelming, I literally could not stand. And when I woke up the next morning, I was a resurrected woman. Completely free.

And now I seek God for yet another masterful transformation on the inside that must well up and overflow to the outside. I realize I cannot overcome these food addictions until my heart itself has been changed. Now I know my next deliverance can only come out of a real cry. Not puttering pouts or elastic emotions, but a passionate plea whereby God’s eyes are drawn, His heart is emptied and His thoughts are all but mine.