I take breaks from really talking to God, from time to time. They're not intentional, or not completely I guess. I had this revelation of sorts, recently, that I sometimes do not address the things on my heart with God, as a coping mechanism to protect myself from feeling. I am an individual with a lot of feelings, and subtly or otherwise, people who don't feel all the feels (as the kids say these days) have treated me like some basket case. It has taken me a lot of time and conscious self-assurance to undo those lies, partially in realizing that to willingly face vulnerability is a strength. Even still, I backslide from time to time, and there are areas where I have taught myself to close off, in the name of self-preservation.
My grandpa was admitted to the hospital on Monday for a small stroke. Being my only living grandpa (married to my only living grandma), I've never experienced anything like this with a close relative. I found myself a little shaken to know that he felt confused and simply "lost" some things from his memory bank, like how to tie his shoes, or my mother's name. Startling, is the best-suited word I've found; it's startling. I continued my workday after the call, because otherwise I probably would've cried at work and felt embarrassed to have feelings. If I'm being really honest, that's what it was.
I waited at my parents' house for my mom to come home that night, I was worried she'd be upset. I discovered where I get my "in-charge" mode from. She said it's not that she doesn't have emotions about it, but things have to get done, too. I was upset, and of course saved it all for the person I trust most. No one has ever seen me a bigger mess than my mother, partially just because she's my mom, and partially because she would never even think to judge me for being too emotional. (Reference here: My Mother the Saint) She let me wrap my arms around her and cry. After she somehow graciously inquired as to my turbulence, I took a deep breath mixed with a sigh and said, "Being empathetic sucks," as we had a laugh. Then she said, "It's great," in that affirming way you'd hope a mother would, but of course mine really, extra means it.
Somewhere along the line, I adopted the idea that emotions are weak. In between trying to find a balance of vulnerability, I bought into crying being embarrassing. Further than that, I started not bringing those feelings to God. It's almost like I decided that if I ignore the way I was made, stuff all those nasty little buggers down into my stomach in the form of knots and up into my head as aches, the things that I feel won't feel. A twisted, self-designed, unconscious but fear-based coping mechanism to being empathetic.
Being empathetic does suck, and it is great. Sometimes when I think about it, I'm convinced it's a form of torture. I've been known to cry as much or more than someone who's actually going through the thing I'm hearing about. And I absolutely can't help it, because I just feel it, deeply. At some point, it became worth it to me to begin ignoring that in me and quit caring - and that sucks!
Thankfully when you're prone to feeling lots of things about lots of things, you can't just turn it off. I say "thankfully" because I know that's how I was designed.
Somewhat consciously, I've also been avoiding taking the hard things back to God in fear that I will only revel in what I feel and not see any change. It's like God has made me able to feel all the difficult things, to the extent that they might as well be happening to me, and then nothing. And it's scary; risky, rather, to put one's heart on the line with God. I know better than to give Him the silent treatment, because all along He quietly beckons as a listening ear and place of comfort. So what have I been waiting for?
It's easy to avoid God, but it doesn't make things any easier. A lesson I think I'm learning. If the Creator of the universe and He who authored selfless Grace and bestowed Mercy, is waiting to hear my heart, how could I keep it?
