How I Learned to Feel

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This is the kick-off of my attempt at Nablopomo 3.  This is probably the most in-depth (and long, but stick with it!) post you will get all month, so don't get used to it.  But I hope you are as encouraged reading it as I have been experiencing it.

I have been called many things in my life.  That sounds bad, so let me explain.  For whatever reason people tend to think I'm a thoughtful, wise, perceptive person.  I'm not sure about all that...maybe I'm good at pretending.  I do admit that I am a thinker.  Actually, I'm an overthinker a lot of the times.  I will analyze things to death.  I have always been that way and probably will be for my whole life.

There are positives to this character trait that I'll save for another time, but there are also some downsides.  It's hard to really feel and experience what's going on around you when your brain is constantly in overdrive.  Part of it is a protective thing...the less you allow yourself to feel, the less you get hurt by other people.  On the other hand, it also makes things like excitement, joy, love, and empathy hard to truly experience.  For the longest time, I just wasn't moved by things emotionally.  Injustice made me angry in my head, but you couldn't tell by looking at me.  A friend would share exciting news, and I would say, "Wow, that's exciting" with an expressionless face.

I remember praying once in college that I would be able to feel more deeply.  It was like walking around in a protective bubble where nothing really affected me.  Boy, did God answer that prayer.

It happened in Africa.  Or at least started then.  I was so overwhelmed with what I was thinking, feeling, seeing, and experiencing in general that I couldn't remain detached for very long.  God broke me.  He opened up my eyes to my sin and a hurting world.  He showed me His goodness and mercy and faithfulness.  I caught a tiny glimpse of what it looks like to love someone (or 25 little someones actually) so much that you would lay down your life for them.  I was done for.

I think that's one of the reasons Africa was so hard.  I just didn't know how to deal with the flood of emotions I was experiencing.  I tried to handle it the way I had always handled things: in my head and in my own power.  And I flat out failed.

Coming back to Texas added on a whole other layer of culture shock, frustration, confusion, and doubt.  My heart was in turmoil.  That's the state of being I was in when I started grad school.  I was a powder keg, and school was the match that lit me up.  I cried so much in those first three months...in the car, in the shower, as I lay in bed.  I couldn't have even told you why at the time.  I was a mess of emotions and feelings, and I had no idea how to even handle it.  So it came out as anger, condemnation of others, frustration, impatience, and turning away from God.  I stopped going to church for about two months.  The ridiculous thing is I was still serving on a ministry team, but I would skip out on actually going to service.  I was exhausted and completely drained.

But He, being rich in mercy and compassion, heard me and answered by His grace.  Slowly, He repaired my heart and helped me understand.  Not because He had to, but because He loves me.  I started to embrace the emotional part of me that was always there but buried very deep.  I also learned (and still am) how to handle those emotions.  Not to suppress or deny them, but to be honest before the Lord regardless of what I was feeling.  God showed me that He could handle my messiness.  He wasn't scared of it, so neither should I be.

So what does this mean for me today?  I love life in a way I never have before.  I love just being alive.  I am more thankful and have frequent moments of plain awe and wonder.  I also feel deeply now, and it hurts sometimes.  But what a blessing even that is.  God has taken my heart of stone and given me a heart of flesh.  I'm more sensitive, but He is showing me how deal with that.  I am learning to invite others in, because feeling deeply does not equal weakness.  I cry sometimes (but not as much as last fall, thank goodness!) and it's okay.  Even if there are other people in the room.

So why am I sharing this?  Because I only just realized it a few days ago.  I have been confronted with some heart issues lately, and consequently was feeling frustrated that I couldn't just turn off my emotions. I was driving somewhere, and out of the blue, I realized that if I was able to shut off in the midst of hard things, I would also miss out on the richness of life.  I wouldn't be able to love God or others, because I'd be constantly on guard against getting hurt.  And I thanked God in that moment for every ache and pain, because it was proof of His power to transform me.

A year and a half later, He is still choosing to help me understand why I had to go to Africa.  He was and is sovereign over every little bit and piece of that, even when I doubted Him.  What a good and loving God He is.

Now come back tomorrow for some recent photos of the little loves that taught me how to feel!