October 2019
How does a spiritual person decipher when the soul is in a place of deep hurt verse the mind and body being down, and therefore, feel overwhelmingly sad? Is there a spiritual vs. emotional difference?
Is the “dark night of the soul” a true occurrence and biblically sound? Am I in it?
I think I am just depressed.
My mom died.
It is said that a person who experiences a “dark night” generally comes out the other side enlightened and closer to God. My implication being that the night is indeed hard and flames are weakened, but the day will be extra bright afterward.
Picture me back in the cornfield. No pathways. It is now dark. My former belief system is in major peril and I am lonely. This is where I sit. Actually sit down. I am tired. And pretty hungry. Do I eventually cry out to the Lord? Or pick myself up and trudge my own way?
Last week I traveled to see my brother out West. Just as the plane took off, there was a bit of turbulence and I found myself praying, “please deliver us safely.” Quickly, as they often do, the plane evened out and the ride was comfortable. I thought to myself, “You’re a real fair-weather fan, aren’t you?”
Stubborn in nature, it is likely I will eventually begin plodding my way toward a tree, or something. For now, I am still sitting and thinking. My husband says I overthink. And he would definitely agree about the stubborn. I can build a pretty sturdy wall.
A tiny part of me worries that I am beginning to build a wall as I sit, just the lower section for now. My heart does not feel hopeful. Might as well get working.
How can anyone tell or know the difference between a dark night of the soul and depression? Are they the same, but labeled differently based upon the the subjects’ belief system? An unbeliever would likely never refer to a season of emptiness as a dark night, but would a Priest call it such, regardless? Is a dark night of the soul just a made up phrase in an attempt to give hope to aching lost sheep? Is there spiritual warfare in action?
I like things to come out even, to be genuine, to fit on a list. I realize life doesn’t always work that way, but it often can with a controlling nature and a paper planner. I don’t like that apple calendar. I need a pencil. Let me just go ahead and erase the things I don’t like today.
Not knowing is highly uncomfortable. I don’t know about my faith these days. I do know that I have zero desire to attend church, that the things I believed are changing, and that I am trying to just be ok in that mess. I am tired and in no mood to declare my dissertation on truth anytime soon. But I do wish it felt cleaner than scribbled notecards in various scattered folders.
Grief brings levels of shifting emotions. In my experience, you don’t hang out at the Denial floor and then move down to floor Guilt. Picture an elevator operator coming off a bender. Ding. Combine that ride with questioning the truth of Christianity, a base for the past 30 years; the one I built a marriage, career, and motherhood upon, and I am a true DELIGHT to be around.
Dark night, depression?
Tomayto, Tomahto?
Good grief, should we just call the whole thing off?
Not That Good Grief 