Getting Out and Staying Out

            We tend to dig ourselves into very deep and dark holes—whether intentionally or not.  I recently read a book that my mom sent me in the mail—Get out of That Pit by Beth Moore, and found it particularly enlightening.  It was about how we can either be pushed into, slip into, or jump into pits—dark places where we can’t stand up or defend ourselves from the enemy (Satan), and can’t see past our own fingertips.  A pit is a place of hopelessness and despair—think of the story of Job.  He ended up in a very dark and negative place as a result of Satan’s relentless attacks.  You could call that a pit.  It’s where you lose vision, can’t see God, and can’t find your way out because, like I said before, it’s dark and you can hardly see a foot in front of you.

            But there are ways to get out.  Like I said in my past two posts, as a writer for Dale Suslick’s Lost One Million, I can relate a lot of his story to my own life.  Anyone can dig themselves into a hole, whether it be financial, emotional, relational, or physical (drug or alcohol addictions, etc.).  But there are ways that you can get out and stay out of those holes.  If you got in, there must be a way out—no one seals the hole shut.

            I’ve been finding myself in emotional holes a lot lately.  Living at home with my parents, there were a lot of issues I had that I never knew existed.  Living away from home, I’m discovering all these things about myself that I don’t particularly like.  Same with being in a relationship—I have things about me that would be fine as long as I stay single—but put me in a relationship and suddenly these things are wreaking havoc in my life.  It’s kind of like those diseases you can have but not know about it—there’s a name for this, but I can’t think of it right now… probably “latent” or something like that…

            Anyway, these issues (which are too detailed and numerous to name here…) have been causing me to fall into unhealthy patterns and extreme emotional lows.  I would find myself doing and saying things I didn’t want to and surrounded by emotional walls that were impossible for me to jump over.  I had moments where I couldn’t even get myself to pray because I felt too heavy to focus on anything except the problem.  This was a pit—I was being attacked by the enemy but couldn’t stand up.  I couldn’t see beyond my own fingertips (being lost inside of myself), and certainly couldn’t see God.  I wanted out but had no idea what I could do.

            I had a day where it really felt like my world was, once again, crashing down around me (like the day Dale realized he lost $1,000,000, or the day I decided to come home from Italy).  I was already making mental plans to leave Wisconsin and head back home to my family—when I decided to talk to my mom.  Shockingly, she seemed to believe I should stay put, even though she’s probably the person back in New Hampshire who misses me the most.  I’d finished reading Get Out of That Pit, and even passionately prayed all the “right” prayers, but it still felt like nothing was working.  In fact, everything was getting worse.  My mom kept talking about God, how I should look to Him and put Him first on my priority list.  How I should depend on Jesus more than any human being.  I couldn’t even listen because I felt so devastated.  I knew I should, but I couldn’t jump over the emotional wall.

            When, suddenly I was keenly aware of this squeezing feeling around my abdomen, is if something was tightly clasped around me.  Then, no sooner than I’d realized it was there, I could feel it open up and let go of its hold on me.  I felt the pressure leave—either I was on drugs, or I was set free from something.  I choose to believe it was the latter (mostly because I don’t use drugs…)

            At that moment I finally felt like I could stand up and say “yes” to God—so I knew something had happened.  From that point until now, things have begun to progress (albeit slowly) in a positive way toward some sort of goal that I’m still puzzled about—but here, again, I’m trusting God to provide answers.  I’m not going to go in search of them myself.

            I do know that it’s a daily battle not to fall in again, though.  I don’t want to fall in, but sometimes I’m too tired to do all the fighting and battling that’s required to stay standing on the solid rock of Christ.  Maybe I’m not totally out yet—but all I know is that I don’t want to go back to the bottom.  That is for sure.