The Safety of the Pit.

“The more clearly we recognize how deep our commitment to self-protection operates in our relational style and the more courageously we face the ugliness of protecting ourselves rather than loving others, the more we’ll shift our direction.” - Larry Crabb


     I feel like I am slowly drowning in a pit of quicksand.  Turning my life over to God is somehow suppose to lift me out of this?  Really?  I turned my life over.  I have done the things suggested.  There is no miraculous relief.  I just keep sinking.  There Jesus sit's on a rock smiling at me.  Waiting?  For what?  When is He going to work that miracle on the inside of me that makes it all better? 
     All the people around me struggle, but I still feel different.  There is a deadness about me that I can't seem to heal.  My friends cry and hug and feel better, then praise God for what He has done for them.  While they do all this, I sit stone faced, wondering when I will ever feel the way they do.  On the rare occasion that something does touch my heart, I fight it.  And when I leave the audience, it turns to anger.  Anger is safe, I know how to do anger.
     I have read book after book, watched sermon after sermon, talked and listened to God until I don't even know what else we could talk about, and what?  I still feel the same.  There is no miraculous connection, no warm and fuzzy.  We aren't supposed to allow our feelings to rule us and I get that, but what about this emptiness.  I don't feel full of the Spirit.  I don't feel satisfied with God living on the inside of me.  There is still something missing.
     "So Jesus, you think you could give me a hand here?"  I've stopped fighting so the quicksand is sucking me in as fast, but I do feel it reaching my chin.  I guess I better ask for His help before I can no longer speak.
     "You ready to get out of there?"
     "Yeah, I thought I was getting out of here, but I'm pretty sure I have only stopped sinking for brief moments.  I'm still going down."
     Jesus reaches over and rips a cactus out from it's roots and holds it out for me to grab on to, "Here you go."
     "Are you kidding me?  You can't find a rope or regular tree limb?  You can't just snap your fingers or float on over here and give me Your hand?  There has to be a less painful way for You to pull me out of here."
     "I'm not going to pull you out.  I'm going to hold this cactus so you can climb out."
     "That will hurt.  I will be a bloody mess by the time I get to you."
     "Yes you will, but I will be here at this end, waiting and encouraging you."
     "Forget it.  It's too hard.  I'd rather just sink.  Isn't that the way?  I get to go to heaven without the bloody battle to get out of here.  For what?  More years on this earth?"
     "I ask you to be more like Me."
     "I can't.  It's not in me."
     "There is one part of you that is like me already.  I gave it to you from birth.  It's gotten stronger over the years because of your struggle."
     "What's that?  What part of me is right?  What part of me makes the painful bloody climb out of here worth it?"
     "No matter how hard you try to not care about others, you do.  You are like me in wanting others to climb out of their pits.  Funny isn't it?  The one part of you that is totally like Me is the one part you insist on changing.  You try so hard not to care about people, but you can't help yourself."
    "It's not funny."
    "Why don't you get working on climbing out of there?  I've told you what to do.  You know you can't sink into that pit and be satisfied with your life.  You will die regretting that you didn't climb out and join me in pulling out others.  The one who has made the climb is the best encourager of those about to make that climb.  You can stand next to me, while I hold the cactus for the next person and tell them your story.  But you can only tell them the whole story when you truly stand next to me.  Hey, you only have to climb out as far your in."
     "How do I know that if I pierce my hands on that thing and it hurts and they bleed it will be worth it?"
     Jesus held up His right hand and I saw where the nail had been driven through it.  I then saw the blood on His face from the crown of thorns and where His side was ripped open, and He said, "It was worth it."
     Suddenly the climb up the cactus didn't seem so bad.

    So many people say that all you have to do is get in the Word.  All you have to do is move closer to Jesus.  I have said it myself.  But there is more to it for some of us.  There are wounds so deep they seem impossible to heal.  I want to forget those wounds, not dig into them again.  I have spent my whole life developing skills to "not" feel the pain.  I have addictions, anger, and depression to hide in.  If it gets too bad there is always death.  It is so obvious to me that this is going to hurt.  There is a healing I am not aware of that I have to go and find. 
     God has locked me in my room again.  The last time, there were moments of such intense pain that death was an option I kept on the nightstand and some days it was loaded.  Some days I hate the fact that I have shared my story.  I wish I could take it back.  Then I have people say, "Your story has helped me so much."  As encouraging as that can be, it can also be overwhelming.  Why?  Because those people are watching, waiting to see how this turns out.  Lately, I just want to go to sleep and never wake up.  But then what would my life be worth?  How many people would give up?  I can see that other people have lives that are worth something and I want them to know that. 
     Some people don't understand how deep the pain can run.  How no matter what we try and what we do and what accomplishments there are, there is still this deep seeded pain that we can't get away from.  There are people out there just like me who are so disappointed in the Christian life, because it isn't healing that deep wound.  I don't need somebody to stand over me thumping their Bible and giving me scripture.  I don't need people telling me to serve others, love God, and obey the commandments.  That may work for people who have not been up to their chin in quicksand.  They don't understand how comforting the quicksand can be or easy it would be to slip in the rest of the way and give up the battle.  Most people don't "Get it".  I do.
     There is something out there that we are missing.  There is more to this life than baking cookies and being kind to your neighbors.  There is a reason we crawl back into the pit where it is comfortable, where we know how to keep our heads above the sand, even if it's just for a few more moments.  Some people can walk on top of the sand to get out.  Some have barely got their shoes dirty.  Even those who have been buried up to their waists think they get where we are coming from, but they don't.  Until you have tasted the sand and wondered if there is anything worth the fight to climb out, you can't get it. 
     People always say if I was the only person on this earth, Jesus still would have died on that cross, just for me.  That has never made sense to me.  Are you kidding?  Who would choose that much pain for me?  Well, I'm beginning to understand.  I am about to grab onto that cactus.  I am going to figure out why drowning in this pit is not the way to go.  I am going to figure out what is missing.  This isn't just setting a bone or pulling out an appendix or putting a Band-Aid on a scrape.  This is open heart surgery.  This wound comes from a broken heart so I am about to open up this chest and see what is really wrong with this half dead heart of mine.
     Why now?  Why am I suddenly ready to rip open my flesh to figure this out?  God asked me if I was willing to crucify my flesh for one person. Am I willing to kill off the old self?  I don't know about all that, but I do know I am willing to climb out on that stupid cactus so I can stand next to Jesus while He holds it out for the next person.  I will be standing there ready to wash the sand off of somebody.  This is about to get bloody.  This is about to hurt.  But I have been thinking and I have decided if you are in the same pit, why wait?  We can do this together.  Seriously, I am about to drag your butt across a cactus. 

“In order to meaningfully repent of the ways in which we violate love, we must recognize them. We won’t recognize self-protective patterns of relating as sinful violations of love until we face the disappointment in our soul we’re determined never to experience again.” - Larry Crabb