Bridging the Gap

I recently found a child's prayer journal I wrote in growing up. It had prompts such as, "God, thank you for ______," "God, I'm so sorry for ______," and "God, I ask you for_____." On the other side, the page said, "This is what I believe God is saying to me in response" and a blank page to write it down. One of the entries struck me.

One page from when I was about 8 years old had a list of things I was asking God for. It might've been things such as, "Please help so-and-so to get better from their sickness, for me to do well in school, for me to treat people more kindly..." It was a longer list of things than I normally asked God for in other entries.

And on the other side, where it said to write what you believed God was saying in response, I'd written, "You're being greedy" and a whole reprimand about how I was asking for too many things. 

I remember writing it - I'd heard the question not necessarily as, "What do you believe God is saying to you," but as, "What did I do wrong, or what could I have done better?"

This is just one example showing how from a young age, I believed that correction was the only purpose of God's voice. I believed that God only cared about what I did, not how I felt; and that if he did care about how I felt, then he would label those feelings as sin and say I should get rid of them. 

I unconsciously carried this view of God into adulthood. 

The comfort that I felt so deprived of from God, I sought with my psychology degree. 

If you would've asked me, "Does God care about our emotions, or does He just see them as sins?" I would've shouted from the rooftops, "Yes, He cares about our emotions, and they are not sins! It annoys me so much when people think the opposite!"

But if you would've asked me what I - deep down - believed about God and my emotions, I would've said that He only cares about what I do and not how I feel; and that if He did care about what I felt, it was only to call it a sin and to correct those feelings.

I had a "Biblical" argument for the idea that God disapproved of every emotion I had: 

• Anger, because of scriptures such as Ephesians 4:31. 
• Sadness, because I felt it contradicted the idea of gratitude and joy of the Lord. 
• Fear, because the Bible says "Do not fear" 365 times. (Which I'm guessing I took as more of a command than an encouragement). 
• Even happiness, because if it's related to things other than "spiritual" activities, maybe it's idolatry.

I truly believed that everything I said, did, thought, or felt could be under scrutiny from God. So naturally, I avoided His presence...then felt guilty for avoiding His presence! It seemed like a lose-lose situation, because the one Person who I was told could provide the healing & nurturance that I needed was also the one I was avoiding, because I thought He wouldn't care or would judge me for even needing that healing & nurturance in the first place. 

Two Distinct Worlds

I saw the emotional world and the spiritual world as very separate from each other. 

If I were to be completely blunt, I would have described them this way: 

"The emotional (or psychological) world is compassionate & understanding, but maybe lacking accountability.

"The spiritual world is a source of moral accountability with no understanding or compassion. It operates by the motto, 'It doesn't matter what you feel, just do what you have to do.' Or 'Your feelings are a sin, so just get rid of them.'"

Two very distinct worlds: one I thought was appealing but false, and the other I thought was repulsive but true. Again, it felt like a lose-lose situation. How could I choose one view over the other?

Through getting a psychology degree, I sought to heal everyone else's wounds in order to heal my own. To protect everyone from the judgment that - deep down - I still believed the Bible supported. I shouted from the rooftops something I wanted to be true but couldn't fully comprehend was the truth: That God cares about our emotions and doesn't just see them all as sin. 

Bridging the Divide

Despite all this, I signed up for a spiritual retreat because I had a sense that God might want me there.

There I sat during Labor Day weekend, on a couch with a journal and pen among a group of about 15 other curious people.

"We're going to do an exercise," one of the leaders said, "Write at the top of one page, 'Who Do I Say That You Are" and the other, 'Who Do You Say That I Am.' Let's start with the first page: take the next 2-3 minutes and write down all that you say that God is - and don't just choose things from the Bible. Write down whatever comes to mind even if it doesn't make sense and don't edit it. If you have a hard time coming up with anything, just try writing down who you need Him to be."

She turned on some music. I tried my best to take down all my defenses and took the latter piece of advice: I wrote down who I needed him to be. "My advocate, the one who stands up for my rights,..." Tears started flowing immediately. I wrote specific things that were so personal to me. After we finished writing, the leader said, "Now,  I'd encourage you to stand up on the couch if you're able to. At the same time, let's all read aloud what we wrote. Since we're all reading at the same time, you don't need to worry about privacy because we won't really hear each other."

Tears continued as I read aloud.

On the second page, we wrote what we felt we hear God saying that we are - and the same guidelines applied: don't just quote Bible verses, write it unedited, then stand up and read it aloud. 

"It's okay if this messes you up a little," one of the leaders said, knowing from experience.

Once again, the tears continued, my world rocked.

And then it was time for lunch. And that was just the morning of the first full day, and a connection was already made for me between the two worlds.

I could go into a lot more detail about all the experiences on the retreat, but for now I'll just say that it completely flipped my view of God. Ever since, I've felt comfortable bringing my emotions to God and processing them in His presence. It's added a layer to my spiritual growth that I desperately needed. 

The Integrated Life

The past few months have been a journey of bridging the gap between the psychological and the spiritual, rather than seeing them as two separate worlds.

The new understanding that God doesn't just care about my sin, but cares about healing the wounds that underlie my sin. That he doesn't just care about what I do & don't do, but He cares about me. 

To some, this might seem like an obvious conclusion. But to me, it's been a life-changing realization. 

I hope you will journey with me as we learn more about the mind and its Maker.