Super Sensitive

“Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say “My tooth is aching” than to say “My heart is broken.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

   Trees are very interesting creatures.  Most are determined to grow no matter what gets in their way.  They grow around obstacles and bend toward light.  Where the wind is always blowing, they tend to lean and grow more greenery and branches on one side.  Some die when they are young, because others block the light.  Some people grow certain trees, just so they can train them to grow in odd ways.

     Our childhoods cause us to grow around things.  We lean toward certain behaviors to survive.  We fight for our turn to let the sunlight shine on our faces.  People come along and break off our branches without even thinking about it and our ability to reach out is hindered.  Then God comes along and says, "You can stand tall and straight."  We nod our heads and continue to lean.  Maybe all those other trees can stand tall, but not me, I've been leaning too long.  It's comfortable no matter how uncomfortable it is.

     I remember lots of typical sibling rivalry in my childhood.  Don't cross the imaginary line down the middle of the backseat.  "You're not the boss of me."  Yelling, "Mom." until you forgot what you were going to say.  When my kids started yelling "Mom", I joined in.  They would look at me like I was crazy, but for some unknown reason it felt good to repeatedly holler for someone else who held the responsibility even if it was only imagined.

     My brother used to reach over and touch me.  Yeah, it was terrible.  With one single fingertip he would reach over and barely touch me and I would freak out.  I can still feel my heart beat a little faster when I think about it.  Why would someone do that?  Keep your hands to yourself.  He would grin as I was freaking out and sounding like an idiot.  "MAKE HIM STOP!"

     "What's he doing?"

     "HE TOUCHED ME."  Yep, that was it.  He touched me.  With his finger.  Right here.  Touched me.  The nerve.

     I remember being told that if I would not react, he would stop.  WHAT?  Of course I'm going to react.  Didn't anybody hear me?  "HE touched me."  "HE crossed the center line."  "HE thinks HE is the boss."  A little Super-Sensitivity on my part.  Some of it was normal, but a lot of my reactions were freaking out beyond the norm.

     I realized I still do it.  This time I'm telling God.  "HE TOUCHED ME."  This time it is the enemy and it still doesn't take much for him to throw me into a super sized, super sensitized freak out.  God says, "If you wouldn't react he would stop."  I get it now.  He enjoys the freak out.  The stupid stuff I do when I'm pitching a fit.  How entertaining I can be.

     I am super sensitive to injustice.  I hate unfairness.  This is a huge battle when you are trying to line up your will with the will of God.  Forgive?  Did you see what he just did?  Turn the other cheek?  I would rather crack him across his.

     In the book, "Healing for Damaged Emotions" by David A. Seamands I realized why I am so super sensitive.  Deep hurt and injustice.  When nobody stands up for you, you want to stand up, scream out, and kick butt for everyone who has been treated unfairly.  The injustice is felt at such a deep gut level, that you are either fighting to make things right in the world, the whole world or you are curled up in a ball, knowing it's impossible.  The world is too big, too unfair, and depression takes over.  All or nothing.  I want to defend everyone or die.

     I found some relief when the author spoke of several people God used who battled depression.  Christians?  Believers and followers of God?  Yep.  Depression does not mean you don't love God.  It doesn't mean you aren't close to Him.  Read some of David's Psalms.  Read about Elijah.  This one was my favorite.  Even Jonah, "It's better for me to die than to live."  God uses Super Sensitive people.

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.

One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"

The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."

"I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?" asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "It made a difference for that one."