I used to be drowning in the blue. I couldn't keep my head above water, much less spread my wings and fly. I was always looking to someone else to pick up the pieces for me and tell me what to do to get to the yellow again; that's where the happiness lives.
No one could show me, but that doesn't mean they didn't try. They tried desperately, in fact. Some were offering a place to stay, others the Bible and God, and some even suggested sex and drugs. No matter what I used, it didn't bring me out of the blue and into the yellow. It's because what I needed was not to use anything; what I needed was to love.
Because of my past relationships and childhood patterns that developed into full-blown habits, I had a wall around my heart. Like prison guards making sure the convicts don't get out, barbed wire was holding my soul captive. However, the barbed wire was also there to keep people out. No one was going to get past my fence, even if I had to make it electrical. I couldn't fathom the idea of being hurt anymore than I already was. There were genuine people who loved me for who I was, but the electrical, barbed
While I no longer feel that focusing on the negative is necessary, I do feel that a good example or two are in order. There was a girl who told me she loved me and that she'd do anything for me, and the emotions I felt for her were real. However, my mind got confused when she began playing games and I realized that I had once again mistaken sex for love, lust for romance, sin for safety. It didn't take long before I was sinning with her in everything I did. I let her in only for her to defend my strongholds and lead me into a deeper hue of blue. Also, there were people playing parent in my life at the time. I'd assumed that they wanted what was best for me so I focused on living up to their expectations. Later I found out that no amount of success could satisfy them; I was only there to improve their social status. When things got rough, it was time for me to leave. By now, the
Then there were those trying to present the bright yellow and bring it back into my life. This is what I want to focus on. There was a teacher who took me in under her wing, taught me about Jesus, and even offered up her couch to me a couple nights. In the midst of my bad decisions, she always had time to talk, and once or twice, she paid for a meal that was much needed. Her constant advice was to "Give it to God & let go. Trust Him. Let Him fill the void that you're searching to fill." Her words made sense but I was ignorant in how to apply what she'd been telling me with such faith. There were times here and there when I could see the navy lighten to a pretty turquoise but the brilliant gold I was searching for was still far out of sight.
A boy, whose name I won't mention, is probably the one who pulled me the closest to that brilliant gold that any human could have. He wanted so badly to love me when I was broken and I could give him nothing in return. We spent days together and evenings, sometimes just talking, other times doing homework, and yet others lying in silence. It seemed we knew what was on each other's minds yet we could not utter the words we so passionately wanted to say. I cannot tell you how many tears he shed for me, the things he gave up, the sacrifices he made. I was all he wanted and while he was what I needed, I didn't know it at that point. He carefully tried to break the wall, pulling it apart brick by brick and, while he got close to jumping over, it was still too high. Eventually, the time came when he had to distance himself from me so that he wouldn't be wounded by my absent-minded, misplaced rejection. Though the bright yellows did not shine through immediately, they're shining through now, and I can trace the yellow brick road back to him.
It may sound cliche, but through my struggles I found out who my friends were. Suddenly, all the "friends" that I had been partying with disappeared. When I didn't want to get higher than the mountains, drink until my values went out the window, sleep with the first person who walked through the door, they were gone. I wasn't "fun" anymore, and although at the time I felt I was being rejected by the only people I had, I learned quickly that if that's what fun was, I didn't want to be it. They weren't the only people I had; that was just another one of the enemy's endless lies. Three godly peers not only befriended me, they saved my life. I don't have a problem with giving credit where credit it due.
The girls, in no particular order, are Sarah, Allison, and Becca. I wholeheartedly believe that God sent them as angels; He spoke through them and used them, to say the least. Each served a different purpose and still do to this day. The difference in our friendships now as compared to before is this: They're no longer trying to piece me back together. Spending time with me is not a job; they don't have to take shifts. I'm a decent friend and I can now be helpful to them. I reunited with Sarah in my AP Government class. In fact, all three of these girls, plus the boy I mentioned, were taking this class with me; the teacher just happened to be the angel I spoke of earlier. And I thought about dropping the class the first week of the semester, silly me. It's a darn good thing that God already has things planned out, isn't it? Anyway, it wasn't until half way through the year that Sarah and I began speaking again. Our friendship before probably didn't qualify as a friendship and we really weren't that close. When the fire started burning that transformed us into best friends, I was going through some of the hardest times of my life. We decided we'd meet at a small restaurant after school to study; we didn't even crack the books. I fell into a hysterical state and she lent me her ear and held my hand. Out poured my story. From then on, it was like we'd been inseparable since birth. We found quickly that we had more in common than we every thought possible - volleyball, school, likes, and dislikes. We began making plans for our future. Again, sacrifices entered the picture. There were nights she stayed on the phone with me until early morning, days she missed classes to comfort me, worries she'd spent on my well-being, and of course, the nights I'd spent in her bed beside her. She was constantly nagging me about my smoking and, although it was frustrating at the time, I've now quit; she deserves much of the credit. Her family was completely non-judgmental, as she shared my stories of addiction and past abuse with them. Even when she told her parents of my feelings of relapse they offered to throw a dry after-prom party rather than turn up their noses. So, after prom that's where I went. We had an amazing time that will forever be burned in my mind. Sarah tried desperately to get me to turn to God. I told her I was trying, and I believe at the time, I was. However, once again, I was so ignorant, so bound by Satan, so attached to his ways. I owe this beautiful woman of Christ so much; I am blessed and honored to call her my best friend.
Allison brought me hope from the minute I began talking to her. Though we had AP Government class together, most of our conversing happened in English. Right away she accepted me for who I was while the majority of the other kids in the class condemned me for being loud and obnoxious; it was one of the ways I learned to cope with my pain. I used schoolwork as an excuse to talk to her but our friendship blossomed quickly and beautifully. We had had classes together the year before which helped with the bonding; we had something in common to complain about. After we got close, I asked why she would have even talked to a "bad, drug-addicted kid like me." Her response: "I never viewed you in that way." This astounded me. Our town is not that big; everyone knew who my parents were, the kind of trouble I'd gotten myself into, and the way I lived. Though I'd already been to rehab and was on my way to racking up some clean time, I spent my days in school and my nights at Narcotics Anonymous. Though I still considered myself a worthless drug addict, she never did, not even in the beginning. While I was still struggling with who I wanted to be, I went to her seeking advice for most of the decisions I had to make. She was never afraid to give me a straight up answer, telling me that she didn't think this was good for my health, or maybe I should just wait. She praised the rights in my life and, rather than convicting me of my wrongs, she just prayed for me. Allison, also, offered up God I don't know how many times and though I turned my head, she never gave up. I know I keep on mentioning sacrifices, but one doesn't live like I did without people constantly giving things up to try and make you okay. Allison's sacrifices? Well, she stayed up me on the phone talking me out of suicide on more than one occasion, she invited me to her house, picked me up for church, took me out to eat, offered up a home full of love anytime I needed anything. We laughed together even on my worst days; these will serve as some of my greatest memories.
Finally, there's Becca: silly on the outside, but full of love. Though she may come off as innocent and naive, she knows hurt and proved that by being my friend. I cycled quite often: optimistic for two weeks at a time then extremely suicidal, depressed, and hysterical for a week. It was so predictable you could mark it on the calender; it never failed to come & it never got any easier; not for me and definitely not for those around me. Though my other friends spent a great deal of their time coaxing me into putting the bottle back, flushing the pills, throwing away the razor blade, opening my Bible, Becca probably spent the most. This is how the routine went: I would text her, letting her know I was contemplating ending my life, she would call two or three times; I always ignored the calls. I was either too hysterical to answer the phone or just didn't have enough energy. Demons were eating me alive. She'd beg me over and over to take a deep breath, open my Bible, and realize my worth in Jesus. I couldn't do it, not for the longest time. Now, since I've moved from my hometown, she's the only friend who writes me, in addition to staying in contact over facebook and the phone. Though the letters are probably unnecessary, they are worth so much to me. They're all hanging on my wall so I can read them daily. She now rejoices in my freedom in Christ like it's her own. This strong, amazing woman also made my best friend list, and I have no doubt that our Heavenly Father's hand was in this.
My relationship with God was not nearly as functional as I thought it was. I was not praying, due of oppression from the enemy; I believed his nasty lies, therefore judging the Prince of Peace. I only ever prayed foxhole prayers, and I'm sure you all know what those are like. "Lord, if you get me out of this situation, I'll never do that again.." What kind of person likes a relationship where you only call when you need something? That's how our relationship was, me on the greedy side, of course. I did not read His Word except for in church and even then, my brain was somewhere else, not focused on the Lord. I blamed God for everything wrong that happened in my life and I couldn't understand why He hated me so. I didn't believe that He was there with me every step of the way. I took His name in vain and, although I was being convicted in my heart, I casually brushed those feelings aside, continuing to work for the enemy. And I then wondered why I was living in the blue. My heart and soul were held captive; I didn't even know the truth. Yet when someone tried to tell me, everything went in one ear and out the other. I didn't want to hear it because I was too busy serving the enemy rather than glorifying the Lord.
I recently started a Beth Moore Bible study called Breaking Free. I'm only three weeks into the ten week process and I can already see and feel an overwhelming change. Let me share with you what my Redeemer has done for me thus far.
I feel as if God is really changing who I am from the inside out. I no longer have anyone by the throat; that's not to say I'm not angry, I'm simply learning to forgive. I've been working through these Bible studies and to be completely honest, I cannot wait until the next day to dive into His Holy Word. I'm spending more time in prayer and it's not a task. I feel like I'm talking to my best friend, my daddy, and my counselor all wrapped into one. I honestly enjoy His presence for the first time in my life. I'm learning that my worth comes from Jesus Christ and no one else. Can you believe He actually DIED for me? I mean, if that doesn't say that I'm priceless to Him, what does? All this time He's been trying to tell me that He loves me so much and I was believing His enemy.. who has no proof to back up his lies. I want to dedicate my entire life and being to Him. I find myself surrendering over and over and over, maybe even twenty times a day. When I am faced with an obstacle, big or small, I hit my knees in prayer rather than resorting to drugs, alcohol, or a razor blade. I no longer feel as if I'm teetering between lifestyles, but now I know who I want to be; I want to be the woman He intended me to be. I want to do everything in His glory. And, best of all, I'm breaking another cycle; I'm not running anymore. I'm forcing myself to plant my feet in the concrete, not give in to the enemy, surrender every time I get the chance, and pay attention and listen to God. Why? Because it's what He wants me to do and it's what's best for me. If I continue to run away looking for something to fill this ugly void, I'll never truly be happy or fulfilled. The only thing that is going to fill that void is Jesus and, let me tell you, He wants to fill me up more than I want to be whole. I feel a brand new peace inside of me that's undeniable and unbreakable. This is where the golden yellow comes in.
I realize that this state of mind and thinking is overwhelming at first. In rehab, we would call this the "pink cloud effect." Basically, it means that when you first get clean and sober you're naturally high on the idea, therefore, you throw yourself into as many meetings as possible and you glorify the program and your sobriety. While I don't expect my views on happiness or my newly found relationship with Jesus to ever be nonexistent again, I do realize that there are still going to be valleys to walk through. I think that some people reading this will assume that I'm so optimistic in everything that I don't comprehend that trials and troubles will still arise; they're mistaken. I do understand; I simply feel better equipped to deal with the tribulations as they present themselves. As I said earlier, I'm going to my Creator with every problem and praise, big or small, and if my God is for me then what can stand against me?
I don't know how I expected drugs or alcohol or cutting or sex or even people to take away my pain in the past. All I know is that they can't. I'd seen people fall before me millions of times, and not on their knees to pray, on their faces in failure, yet I followed in their footsteps expecting things to be different for me. Why did I believe I was any different? Because of the untruths Satan relentlessly tried to make me consider; consider them, I did. It's important to remember that he has no new tricks; he's going to use the same tactics over and over to make us fall. Why not, then, use the same tactics over and over again to beat him? If something is not broken, it doesn't need fixing, right? We call on Jesus. It's a sure win every time.
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