This was originally posted as a response to ‘This House is not a Home’ but I’ve asked C if I can put it up as today’s blog, because it’s so good.
Here’s what she says:
“We are the church and We are the hurting. We’re the same people, but some of us are lying. God alone knows who actually belongs to Him, and He will use his people to help his people if they are willing.
The only problem with churches and saying what “they” could do, is that Churches are full of people, who of course, are a mixed bag. In some ways I think We (the struggling) almost have an obligation to expose our brokenness so that others may be set free from the lie that “getting saved” means a return to Eden. This is so hard when you feel you can’t get out of bed, I understand. I have found in my darkest hours God often speaks through unlikely sources. Also, I seem to be more easily used by God at those times than when I’m on top of things.
The first time I fell into a really deep spell of depression and anxiety as an adult, I carried certain scriptures on slips of paper in my pocket and read them whenever a panic attack threatened. My first day back at work I prayed constantly for God to send “someone” to help me. He did. He sent a little old man even more riddled with fears than I was and I shared my few little verses with him. A young teenager getting seriously involved in witchcraft came in our store, I shared about God and prayed for her, something I would rarely do on a good day. Finally a woman from so and so’s Christian Women’s Club came to do some shopping. She politely asked “How are you doing today?” Because of the “Christian” in the club name I chanced it and said “Actually, I’m having a really hard time today, You know, odd fears and stuff “. She nodded and raised her sculpted eyebrows knowingly. “You know what you need?”, she said, tapping the side of her paper coffee cup, “One of these. A little caffeine, a little sugar, set ya right up!”
I was so taken back at her frivolous response, that I followed her advice. Trembling, I weeded my way through the crowded shopping center until I found the coffee shop, ordered my drink and somehow made my way back. The crazy thing is, it actually helped!! Walking through that crowd, seeing the faces of people, all made in His image, and drinking this delicious stuff, brought me into a level of reality where my personal overwhelming despair was somehow brought into perspective for just a moment. Just enough to keep on breathing.
If we lay down our masks and humble ourselves, then we are more open to help and be helped, sometimes in strange ways. Somewhat hit or miss, I know. Impossible to work into a church program and solicit volunteers to implement, but I sort of think it might be what He had in mind all along.
We know it’s not enough, but we offer up our pitiful loaves and fishes and wait to see what he will do”.