I would like to take some time and write about an experience I had in prayer, way back during the summer between 7th and 8th grade; a harrowing time for many including myself. How would I describe me during that part of my life? I was mostly self-hating, confused and depressed; and for many reasons. I had a lot of turmoil going on over at my dad’s house that made me feel trapped (see other posts for more detail) and I had already had to adjust to two different school districts in my short life, and although I had already met some people who would remain my best friends throughout my life, I felt disconnected from my peers.
Mainly, my issue was that I could not perceive any self-worth. I was horribly insecure and awkward with my own body but had no way to articulate what I was feeling to anybody, because I didn’t know what I was feeling. It was literally beyond my means to form a positive thought about myself. I also didn’t realize that pretty much every one else felt somewhat like this to whatever degree because let’s face it, middle school sucks!
I think this was the only time I was near to be being possibly clinically depressed. I would cry all the time and I became quite the angry journalist. Once I even told my mom I probably needed medication; and she was willing to do whatever was needed to help me; of course. She had noticed a change in my behavior, but alas, I felt inadequate trying to describe my feelings, and I hid from her much of what was going on at my dad’s house; which now that I am older, contributed to a lot of my negative self-image.
There was one day in particular that I was feeling especially shitty about life and alone, and I was pretty sure even God was tired of hearing me cry. So I decided to do the only thing I could think of to calm myself down, go for a walk. I left the house in a blur of tears and began walking with no destination in sight. My feet lead me to the park by my old elementary school where I ended up plopping myself down on top of the cool new play structure that wasn’t there when I went to school, and crying commenced. I cried until I could cry no more, and eventually I just sat there wanting to talk to God, but I was wrestling inside.
I was wrestling with the fact that whatever was going to come out of my mouth would not be pretty. I was angry, and I was tired. I was tired of hating myself and tired of feeling trapped into hating myself, like I said I felt like I literally was unable to make those feelings go away. Finally, I realized I was either going to continue to sit there, or express myself in whatever way I could to the one person who said he was with me no matter what.
“Shit”!!!!! I yelled “God, I am sooo tired of hating myself”! Another episode of tears ensued but since I had started talking I couldn’t stop, something was releasing. ( yes, I swore in conversation with God, I don’t think he particularly minded)
“I don’t know why I feel this way, and I don’t want to hate myself anymore, I am so tired of this”. I laid myself out on my stomach and turned my palms upward. To this day I have no idea why I took that position, I was raised catholic and we never did anything outwardly expressive in prayer except kneel at mass.
As I did this however, I felt something. I continued to cry and repeat the same phrase over and over to God, and as I lay there, I felt like someone was laying over me. I know that sounds like a bunch of spiritual whoopla, but I am not making this up. I had talked to God many, many times before that; call it prayer if you will, but I had never felt anything like this before.
An inner warmth began to envelop me, it started from my chest and began to radiate all through my body, until I had stopped crying and just listened.
There was no audible voice of God, the heavens didn’t open up with trumpets and angels singing the hallelujah chorus, but I was deeply aware that God was there, and that he knew.
He knew all about what I was feeling and how badly I was entrenched in self- hatred, and he wasn’t slapping his palm on his forehead annoyed at my disposition.
In fact, I know this had to be God because for absolutely no reason, I began to feel like I was loved. It hit me after I had been sitting there in silence for about ten minutes realizing God’s presence.
I remember being so alarmed that I think I blurted out “what is this?”
It was an external idea/presence that had broken through the hardness of my pain and lodged itself inside me. It’s difficult to try and describe such experiences because they had little to do with anything material or concrete. It was my own subjective experience with the divine, and it totally changed me.
I picked myself up from laying on the top platform of the playground structure and stood up, tears streaming down my face, but this time they were tears of joy. (I know, I cry a lot)
I felt for the first time, ever, maybe, that I was loved, that God loved me, and that perhaps people did too and that life could be beautiful.
I felt like I had overcome something too, my own inability to let myself out of the cage. Then I remember feeling like I wanted to run. There was a forest off to the side of the playground and I couldn’t think of anything more delightful than running through a forest at that moment. So I did.
That was the beginning of many new things in my life, new ways of thinking, new ways of loving, and it was the day I really fell in love with God. There’s no other way to put it.
Why that day? Why in that way? I have no idea, and I don’t think everyone experiences God exactly like that and of course they wouldn’t! What got through to me is not what would get through to some other folk. Everyone is different and only God knows how to meet each of us in the unique way that we were designed to be reached.
What I do know about God is that he does not kick us when we are down; even if we are half our own problem at times, and that often those are the times when we are most willing to even give him some sort of consideration; which I have found he will capitalize on if we really want to know him.
k. lawler 