Oh the waves (part 2)

I had three dreams last night.

In the first I had gone after Heather. I pursued her as I promised. And when I came to where I knew she was her mother was there and told me Heather was somewhere else. Somewhere I could not reach.

In my next dream I was living in a small Asian style house. During the day I could have the doors open, but it didn't matter because there was no light outside the house. It was surrounded in darkness. I had to close the doors at night so the bugs would not come in. Before I knew what happened I had died. When I asked the person I presume to be God why I suddenly saw myself closing up for the night. One of the bugs had bitten me on the foot. I saw it happening, and then watched myself die. I couldn't tell if I wasted away over a long time or if it happened quickly. It looked like both.

In the next dream I had been invited to a dinner party, a fairly large one. When I arrived at my table I realized Heather and I were the only people sitting there. It didn't look like Heather, it looked like another ex of mine, but I knew who it was, and she was still made at me. But then she said something during our tense conversation. Whatever it was I remember being distinctly aware that how she said it meant that she was planning on getting back with me. I asked her about it. She said she was planning on it. I asked her why we weren't getting back together right then. She answered but I couldn't totally understand her, but she said something about time.

Now I would normally chalk the first and third dreams up as just subjective except for three things.
1) I woke up immediately following all three dreams, which can be an indication of a dream of prophecy.
2) I haven't been having any dreams lately, which typically means something is coming
3) This one is the most significant and the most scary. As I was lying in bed last night I had this moment while I trying to go to sleep. I thought I could feel God telling me that I would dream in prophecy that night, because of how desperate I was.

Yes, you should indeed be amazed by that. And I should have to. But I wasn't. When I woke up, when I remembered that. I just wasn't. I wasn't amazed. I wasn't reassured. I wasn't anything. Today was the first day in more than a month that I didn't write in my prayer journal and read the Letter first thing when I awoke. I went out and did yard work instead. I didn't open my prayer journal or the Bible until sometime after 7 pm.

When I got back from playing frisbee golf with Nick I went upstairs and put on jeans and a tee and grabbed my old Vans to go skateboarding again. I finally settled down after about an hour. I finally cracked my prayer journal. I wrote a little and tried getting into the Word, but exactly what I wrote I was afraid of in my pj happened. I didn't get anything out of it. I missed whatever it was. So I went to check my email. I've been fairly eagerly awaiting an email from Joy ever since I sent one to her two days ago. I'd forgotten how much I like conversing with her. And low and behold, there it is. She said she was praying for me and came across two verses, one of which particularly struck me.

Romans 5:3-5"we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."

Really?

No . . . freaking really?

So as soon as I was done reading her email I went upstairs and opened my Bible again. To:

Matthew 8:27 "The men were amazed and asked, 'What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!"

Freaking really?

Of course I was supposed to read the whole story, but my eyes fell on that verse because the summation was the important part for me.

So now the reason for the title of this post comes around, and really it has a few reasons. One of course is that story. of the incredibleness of God repeating messages. When He wants you to hear something, He doesn't stop.

The other though, is the multiple meanings for waves. God is asserting His power over the "waves" (and the wind) of the storm which currently besets me. And this is something to which I submit, even though I grow weary of believing what He seems to have said the outcome will be.

"Waves" has another meaning though, because it describes how my though process has been in all this. Everything comes in waves. Waves of varying intensity and length. At times I feel so assured of everything God has done to say Heather is to be my wife. At times I can only focus on how far away and unlikely that seems. At times I can just trust God and not care either way or about anything. And at times I just scream to make what He's clearly trying to tell me just a little more visible. At times I want to participate in Heather coming to a place of reconciliation. And at times I spend all my efforts on ridding myself of her. At times I feel myself and so charged up and over the top ready and capable to do the things God has laid on me. And at times I just feel like He hasn't done or said anything for me, ever.

Now before anyone jumps, I cut through everything. I've found that have reacquired something of my center and I can search out the peace of God which rests upon right thinking, to a certain extent. What's most troublesome about this is where it intersects Heather.

I've spent the last three days praying weird prayers. I've committed myself each day to praying God to take Heather off of my heart. And each day He has done things to assert that she is my future. I also prayed yesterday for Him to forgive her, because she doesn't understand, she's just confused. I believe God is doing good things in this, but I still don't think its right. And the last two days or so I've taken to praying for God to change what He seems to want. I've been reasoning with Him about how it would actually be more miraculous for Him to make me satisfied with some other woman and some other story than to reconcile with Heather. Just . . . weird.

I noticed something while I was mowing today though. Everything single thing I do to help heal my heart of Heather does not work. I go to God for comfort and He either (rightfully) just speaks of His love for me, says nothing, or confirms her. I try to come up with logical reasons to move on, and the only ones I can find are soaked in bitterness and otherwise un-Christlike thinking. The last few days I've been trying, I've been going out of my way to be attracted to other females, to develop little crushes or whatever. For naught. All of it. And its so freaking hard. It seems that I constantly run up against things that make me feel further away from Heather. That seems to steal all hope and all belief in promise. That allow me only to focus on what she has done and where her heart must be. Why just tonight, when I was trying to do something good, for God, I was confronted with this. I was looking for a picture of me go along with something I was working on and I was made aware that Heather has deleted our engagement pictures. Kind of a no-brainer but still. Seeing her behave in such ways. Knowing what that says about her heart. It hurts worse than I can say.

And yet I can't identify a single freaking thing from God that seems to point in any other direction.

After I read the Matthew 8 section I layed down and tried to hear God. I'm so tossed up by everything that my discernment still feels so incapable. But . . . I think I heard the same thing I did from Tuesday night. Him telling me everything He's said is right. I've tried . . . and I just can't think of what else it could be.

So two questions remain . . . more as curiosity than anything. This fire, this valley, this storm . . . what lies on the other side? And how long until He calms the waves?

Ideally I should end the post there right? From a literary perspective, from a dramatic perspective that's the right place. But something else does need to be said.

When I started writing this post I did not want to be doing it. At all. While I was writing it I felt so . . . far from where I was the other night. I felt so overwhelmed by the waves, mental and otherwise. But as I finished I noticed something. I felt better. I feel like myself right now. I feel like God's sitting right here, whispering in my ear with an arm draped around me in a way more brotherly than comforting. Whatever is found of me in what has been written, there is truth. But just know that through where I've been, this is where I stand. I am me. There is hope. There is promise. There is a good and mighty God. He has conquered the world. He has conquered death. Tomorrow's gonna be a great day. You don't even know. But you will.

Oh the waves (part 1)

I've been sitting here staring at the screen for a few minutes. I'm not entirely sure what to right. Really I'm not even remotely aware. But I didn't write last night because I felt the same way. Unsure of what to write, and really not wanting to do it.

I'm so freaking frustrated. I just want to kick and scream and fight and destroy. I want everything and I want nothing. Let's go back.

Yesterday was a weird day. I got up and did more work around the house. I spent time with God, I kept praying, and taking breaks to read the word. But I just didn't feel where I had been the night before. I think I woke up with a very reassured sense of Heather and I being reunited. Freaking stupid.

But . . . well, I'll go on. The day just kind of droned on. Nothing really happened, spiritually or event wise. I went skateboarding for a little while, because I needed to not go insane. The day before I'd so been looking forward to Wednesday night group. But as the day wore on I realized I didn't want to go. I just wanted to retreat away from everyone and everything. I was definitely suffering from the comma.

So I force myself to go. And I show up just on the edge of being late. Anyhow I sit down behind Steve and Trish and Andy. Now I want to get something out of the way before I get to the meat of this story. I noticed last night that my Wednesday night group has a few more immature people in it than my Sunday night group. I was aware of it last night paying attention to how some of the people were acting. What's odd is that there are some really great people there as well, but you can kind of tell who is who by where they sit. Mature people sit at the back and on the left side. Immature people tend to sit around the table and in the alcove on the right. Seriously.

So on to the real issues. Last night, the discussion topic was essentially the same thing as the message from Kairos the night before, and thereby my CIL meeting from Sunday night. No I am not lying. Its freaking Holy Week. Everybody should be doing traditional Holy Week things and what do I get. I go to three different services and get the same main point from each. God has purpose in hard times, trust it. Its freaking Holy Week.

Jennifer started by saying she knew it was Holy Week but she had wanted to take a different look at the cross and present it from a new angle. Yeah. So I'm still not sure how exactly she was trying to tie the passage from Matthew (the Crucifixion) into her main point. But that's not really important. What's important is that she was talking about how fire is purifying, and how it is good. Yeah, your jaw should be on the floor.

But the story has a twist. I'd say it was about 3/4 of the way through the night when I realized . . . it wasn't effecting me. I didn't feel anything. I should have been amazed. I should have been praising God. But nothing. I felt absolutely nothing.

I tried to hang out for a few minutes after the meeting, but I was so distracted. I had heard God, I knew what I was hearing but . . . how could I feel like this. I should be looking for a spot to cry in thankful prayer. I should be worshiping. I should be . . . feeling something. But I didn't, so I was even more distracted. So I just left.

As I turned my phone on I had a voicemail from Rachel, she and Nick were hanging out and while no one else from church was there they wanted me to come. I went where they said they were going to be in the message, but they weren't there so I turned and left. I drove home feeling . . . even more empty, and starting to run into the other side. Sadness. Loneliness. Anger.

When I got home no one was here. I had no emails. No one was online to talk to. I knew that nobody I could call would answer my calls right then. I was completely and utterly alone. God was calling me to spend time with Him. And I didn't want to. I was so . . . I don't even know what. I think angry, but I'm not sure. So here I was sitting at this choice. And I decided to push back. I reached back into my past and grabbed a hold of some old sin and tried to get back at God. I don't know for what. For being lonely? For everything that's gone on with Heather? For not striking me with words that should have. I don't know. But it didn't work.

I had one of those moments last night where you realize something you know; where you become acutely aware of something you have academically acknowledged. I became all too aware of what sin does to us hear on earth. Of how it alienates us. From God and from others. I was trying to fill my God shaped hole, and it just felt bigger. I wanted Heather more. I both wanted God more and felt less able to turn to Him. Even though I felt lonelier I equally wanted less to do with people. I wanted to just sink.

So I rallied a little. I prayed a little. I read a tiny bit of the Letter. I found B-Tran and asked him to pray for me.

I sat here and stared at another blank posting screen for who knows how long, wanting to get something out. But . . . even though I had so much to say, none of it could come.

I walked upstairs and layed on the floor. I wrote in my prayer journal. I tried to read the Bible. But still . . . nothing worked. I never felt better. Still just a mix of empty, and dejected, and heaped under darkness. I went to sleep just so it would go away.