From Forced Resignation to Forced Dental Analogies
Well, it’s been a minute since I last posted, I am sure both of my subscribers already knew that though. Life has been chaotic. The past 6 months have felt like a long dessert hike but one that felt like I had no idea where I was going but I just knew I had to keep taking another step. The first couple months after we experienced a forced resignation from the church we loved, it felt like time stood still. We were blindsided. Looking back I see now that we were in shock and traumatized by the events that unfolded in a matter of 6 days. But when the shock began to wear off and we had to find a new normal, that’s when things got heavy. Our days looked different and nothing felt familiar anymore.
That initial shock after a traumatic experience is like a bubble of protection, a grace period. But eventually, the bubble is gone and you find yourself in a very different place than before. Not only are there new daily routines and challenges to overcome – but there are new emotions to navigate. It’s like leaving the dentist office after an extraction – the novocaine is still in effect, your lips feel funny, and you’re drooling on yourself but you don’t notice because you are numb. After a while though, the feeling starts to come back and it doesn’t take long to start feeling the after effects of the traumatic event that just took place inside your face. The pain was there all along, the novocaine was just masking it temporarily.
I remember the time I had to have two impacted wisdom teeth pulled at once. I was laying in the chair, gloriously numbed by the anesthetic watching this grown man forcefully pull and push instruments around inside my mouth, all while the terrifying sounds of drills and saws pierced my ears. I distinctly remember thinking, “This looks so painful, I am so glad I can not feel this!” Before I left, the oral surgeon handed me a prescription for a medication to help manage the pain. He gave me specific instructions, “Fill this prescription right away and take the first pill before the anesthetic wears off.”
I left his office feeling pretty good and, having a very strong aversion to taking medications, I decided I was in no hurry. I remember standing in the grocery store, going about my business when it felt like someone sucker punched me in the jaw. I wanted to cry and immediately I remembered what the surgeon had said. It is my sworn testimony that managing dental pain is much more difficult when you can feel it.
Following any traumatic experience, there comes a time when the numbness begins to fade and you find yourself managing the pain. One thing I have learned is that the pain will manifest itself in many, many different emotions. So, for the past several months I have been in what has felt like a war with my emotions. I’ve battled depression and anger, discouragement and loneliness, fear and anxiety – the list goes on and on. If I’m being honest, I have not managed them all that well, there have been days I let them get the best of me.
As if emotionally I was not overwhelmed enough, I began to struggle more with my health. My anxiety spiked and fueled my depression, and it was beginning to affect my physical health. I couldn’t determine what the source of my symptoms were – was it my Parkinson’s Disease? Perimenopause? Am I having a heart attack? or maybe I had a new undiagnosed disease … I was not thinking rationally, I wasn’t sleeping well and my thoughts were taking on a mind of their own.
All the while, my oldest daughter was graduating and getting ready for college, we were packing up our home to move again for the third time in less than 6 months, preparing to relocate to a new city, finding new schools for the kids, getting our home ready to go on the market to sell… I feel like the word overwhelmed would be an understatement! I was a mess.
Much like when we experience physical pain, when we experience times of crisis or suffering sometimes we find ourselves behaving irrationally or out of character for us. That’s where the past few months found me, unable to recognize myself. Maybe you have been in a similar place.
Aren’t you glad we aren’t alone when we find ourselves in these kind of places? As I was reading Psalm Chapter 77 yesterday, the Holy Spirit reassured me that it’s ok to have seasons where we find ourselves floundering instead of flourishing. Times when we find ourselves sleepless and speechless and unsure of anything at all.
In the beginning of this Psalm, the psalmist finds himself crying out to God – overwhelmed. restless. comfortless.
I cried out to God with my voice—even unto God with my voice; And He gave ear to me. In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord; My hand was stretched out in the night without ceasing; My soul refused to be comforted. I remembered God, and was troubled; I complained, and my spirit was overwhelmed. You hold my eyelids open; I am so troubled that I cannot speak.
This sure sounds a lot like me! Crying, remembering, complaining – my soul refusing to be comforted, troubled and overwhelmed.
Then the psalmist continues. He begins to have a very honest conversation about his doubts…
I have considered the days of old, The years of ancient times. I call to remembrance my song in the night; I meditate within my heart, And my spirit makes diligent search. Will the Lord cast off forever? And will He be favorable no more? Has His mercy ceased forever? Has His promise failed forevermore? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has He in anger shut up His tender mercies?
See, this is why I love the book of Psalms! Because we get a glimpse of the humanity of God’s people. Here, the writer asks some very raw, almost dangerous questions – but he isn’t doubting God to another person, he is taking his doubts directly to His God. He is not being blasphemous, he is acknowledging his honest doubts to a real God! When was the last time we were vulnerable enough to tell God exactly what we were feeling? If you’re like me, we have felt like God’s mercy has ceased forever plenty of times but we are afraid to acknowledge that we feel that way. As if He doesn’t already know!
But wait, it doesn’t end there! In verse 10 we see a shift, a turning point.
And I said, “This is my anguish; But I will remember the years of the right hand of the Most High.” I will remember the works of the Lord; Surely I will remember Your wonders of old. I will also meditate on all Your work, And talk of Your deeds.
It’s okay to wrestle with doubts in the midst of uncertainty, but we can never forget there is great power in remembering! Looking back at God’s past faithfulness can give us hope in our present darkness. I love verse 10 – I can almost hear the psalmist speaking to himself out loud. “This is my problem” (insert large arm gestures for dramatic effect) and then he pauses, and with resolve he continues “but I will remember…” as he continues to reflect on past provisions and past triumphs. And in verse 12 he goes a step further. Not only am I going to remember what the Lord has done, but I’m also going to meditate on it and I’m going to tell somebody about it too!
The psalmist ends this Psalm by praising God’s Goodness and Greatness. What a beautiful reminder that we should never let our circumstances make us forget what God has done!
Lament and doubt are a natural part of our struggle as we face seasons of suffering or what feels like silence from God. May you be reminded today that faith isn’t about never questioning, but about bringing our questions to HIM – and ultimatley, anchoring our hope in what He has already done. ⚓
Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, Because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.