Through the last six months living with family, there was almost constant temptation to compromise for the sake of regaining false peace. Especially considering that I was under their roof. Because it's not as though the service I was providing could in any way suffice to make it acceptable to be such a thorn.
It was terrifying, mortifying, and as things progressed, the tactics used to attempt to sway me became more degrading, defiling. Or maybe they'd always been, and just the Lord did finally open my eyes--I'd really been blind to matters, for so long.
But same as then, there's still knowledge that...though it might take time, then still...I could have family back. I could have friends back. I could have an easy time of interacting with folks, superficial and flippant. If I would just compromise and not be quite so intent on pursuing the Lord.
Like I was told, two and a half years ago--if I was willing to be a "normal Christian:" go to church on Sunday, go to work, get a nice home in a nice neighborhood...I'd be just fine. Everything would be okay. I wouldn't be tormented, I wouldn't lose absolutely everything dear to me, and I wouldn't have to live with the knowledge that folks I love will be tormented because of me (which, still, that has to be surrendered to the Lord--if He even permits me or others to be attacked, then it's to His own purpose...I'm nothing, less than dust, so whatsoever He permits unto me or others is only as it ultimately will glorify Him). The first few bits of that are all basically verbatim what I was told.
And I forget about that, pretty regularly. Until things get difficult again, and "people" start with the threats, again.
It's a lot easier to live without reflection or continued awareness of what's gone on and what's happening, given all that's passed. Multiple family deaths in the past couple years, loss of all relationships, effective complete seclusion, and all the things coming to a head, of past trauma and grief.
There was a point, many years ago, where I used to think of things this way: If I were trapped in absolute darkness, crushed and contorted beneath the weight of a building that had collapsed on me, and yet still able to breathe...then by technicality of still being alive, I could say I was "okay" without being false.
The difference now is that trials are much more intense than they used to be, much more frequent, much more debilitating (completely devastating, continually)...but, now, Jesus carries me through. I'm a crushed, shattered wreck, but He holds the pieces and He carries me through.
And He will keep me. He's not going to let me go and He's not going to give up on me. And He won't let me give up on Him, either, is the best part. No matter what comes, no matter how much it hurts, no matter that I walk around in a daze, shell-shocked, after and in the midst of immediate trauma.
All I'd have to do to have family again, though--to have all my prior acquaintances back--is forsake Christ. Just turn away from Him a bit. That's "all." I would just have to back down on devotion to Him, into greater, conscious compromise (realistically, He's still delivering me from being compromised, so there's not perfection).
But I can't, though. And I won't. Because He holds my heart. He owns me. And though the pain of losing everyone I've ever known and loved is such grief, and the pain of relative isolation in the midst of what usually is superficial exchange (except the Lord give strength to be open)...well, the treasure of knowing and loving Christ is more. And, besides, apart from His constant keeping...realistically, the torment isn't less, just different. But apart from His constant keeping, those torments come without shelter and solace and protection.
He is sanctuary in the midst of the storm of life.
And, realistically, there are so many people who have things so much worse than I do. I have a warm room to sleep in, a comfortable bed, clean food to eat, safe water to drink (basically), monies to do things with, transportation, and periodic interaction with folks who know the Lord. That's so much that so many people have nothing of...and, beyond all that, I have Jesus, Himself to keep me.
That's no small thing. I'm just so prone to get trapped in the maudlin, when there's pain. Rather than to praise in the midst of it. But I have to trust He's going to line me out. He has continually done so in the past. He will do so now.
If I have to think, then maybe it would be better to think about things above, again. And to think on things...how does it go?...honorable, true, pure, worthy, right, excellent, and of a good report? Something like that. And, if nothing else, to keep my eyes focused on Jesus, the author and finisher of my faith, who Himself endured the cross, despising the shame (and pain and horror) for the joy set before Him. I haven't yet fought against sin unto the shedding of blood.
He has.
He knows I'm weak. He knows I'm frail, wretched, self-absorbed, and prone to despair. But He loves me. And He will keep me.
That's enough.
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