There are ghosts from my past who've owned more of my soul
Than I thought I had given away
They linger in closets and under my bed
And in pictures less proudly displayed
A great fool in my life I have been
I have squandered till pallid and thin
Hung my head in shame and refused to take blame
For the darkness I know I've let win
--Jennifer Knapp "Martyrs and Thieves"
For just over 2 years now I have been at the mercy not of the good Lord but of self-hatred, toxic shame, and immense guilt, all resulting in drastic unbelief and an unraveling of the foundations of my very faith.
As a "newer" Christian, I suppose it makes sense that after spending my first three years of belief in a Christian Bubble (ACU), I would question my faith in its entirety after leaving. Upon my arrival in Nashville, I realized that didn't know what was real or what I had just picked up along the way; and, as my own sinfulness grew, those initial seeds of doubt were nurtured until they had grown into a tangled web of vines which I now find myself entrapped by.
I currently feel as though I have so many things wrong with me that there is no way to even begin to sort out the mess that I have become after 24 years practicing the art of royally screwing up.
I have allowed my life to be ruled by my own inadequacies, insecurities, inferiorities, and, above all, shame. I have been consumed by the need for a man, unbelief in anyone's ability to ever understand me, and a feeling of complete and utter unworthiness of love. I have let fear and distrust resulting from my childhood and adolescence mock me from the shadows of my present life. I have crushed my heart under the weight of guilt over the way things ended with my first love. I have hoisted walls around my heart in a futile effort to avoid being wounded, betrayed, and damaged by the failed promises of love and faithfulness of yet another man. I have traded pieces of my personality, beliefs, image, and lifestyle to avoid experiencing rejection of my true self by those I have unhealthily and desperately clung to. Worst of all, I have denied my God and forgotten how to believe in the One who gives me my very breath.
Like Elijah, I am standing on a mountain in the unavoidable presence of the Lord. There has been great and powerful wind tearing my mountain apart, shattering the rocks of my foundation, and the Lord has not been in the wind. There have been earthquakes and fires wreaking havoc on this mountain I stand upon, and the Lord has not been in the earthquakes and fires. Rather, He is in the faint and gentle whisper that I hear now that my mountain has crumbled to pieces, leaving a cloud of dust through which I hear:
"What are you doing here, Sarah? Come home."
