I haven’t done this in awhile, but I just feel the need to pour my heart out. To type some words and craft a piece of art with letters—all about my past, and how, praise Jesus, I am not there anymore.
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“There’s a grace when the heart is under fire/ Another way when the walls are closing in/ And when I look at the space between/ Where I used to be and this reckoning/ I know I will never be alone.”
There I was. I was 90 pounds; my clothes hung off of my 18-year-old body, small as it was from refusal to eat “because God told me to fast.” I was working at a big retail chain working in the clothing section and at the register; and, in my pride, I was living with an insidious mental illness: schizo-affective disorder.
Everyone knew it. My co-workers were surprised by bold attempts at proselytizing and asking them if they needed any prayer; my boss had gotten more than a couple of complaints that I was sharing my faith, while working, with customers who felt bothered by me. My parents could do nothing about it, but they knew—we all knew, honestly—that I was only doing such things out of an insane fear of God and what He would “do” to me, should I disobey Him and not try to share so forcefully with others. He was, in my mind, not my Protector; He was my Judge and Punisher, ordering me through intrusive thoughts to do such things.
“All my debt left for dead beneath the waters/ I’m no longer a slave to my sin anymore/ And should I fall in the space between/ What remains of me and this reckoning/ Either way I won’t bow to the things of this world/ And I know I will never be alone.”
I stayed in my room, most days. I isolated myself from all friends and family; sunrise and sunset came over and over. I remember staring at my sand-colored bedroom walls and thinking, “is this it?” If I wasn’t staring at my walls, I was reading random snippets of the Old Testament, trembling at the fearful things I read. I wouldn’t move.
He was, in my mind, not my Protector; He was my Judge and Punisher.
My sister, good as she was, would come in, angrily asking why I was still in my room, when I could be out enjoying the day. I never had an answer… all I could do was force her to go away, and leave me alone.
I am afraid to type what comes next. But type I shall.
One night before bed, I became so delusional that, in my illness, I thought I heard God tell me not to breathe.
So, trying to obey “His Voice,” I held my breath until I became faint. The fact that I did not actually pass out is a miracle from Jesus. I now breathe every breath as a war cry against the enemy, knowing that he could not take my breath that night, and he can’t take it through the same means now.
“There is no other name but the name that is Jesus/ He who was and still is, and will be through it all/ So come what may in the space between/ All the things unseen and this reckoning/ And I know I will never be alone/ And I know I will never be alone.”
Now, 6 years later, here I am. I am on medication for the schizo-affective disorder, and weigh 120 pounds. I am almost done getting my Associates Degree. I am free.
Now, I am free.
A lot happened to get here… and now I am faced with new struggles, and new fears. But just as this song goes, “So come what may in the space between, all the things unseen and this reckoning, … I know I will never be alone.” There was another in the fire I went through. I walked through seas of water with Him, and He Loves me with a Love like no other. And if He can get me through that, I will trust Him now.
“There’ll be another in the fire/ Standing next to me/ There’ll be another in the waters/ Holding back the seas/ And should I ever need reminding/ How good You’ve been to me /I’ll count the joy come every battle/ ‘Cause I know that’s where You’ll be.”
– Quoted sections from Hillsong United’s “Another in the Fire”
A Soul's Song 