I find that in the past few months I was pointing my fingers at everyone and everything else as a way to hide the anguish of what I was really feeling. Consciously, as I came to, I knew that it was absurd for me to be mad at God because I mean, He-is-Who-He-is, and I’m just a mortal human made of dust. That, however, didn’t change the fact how I felt. I blamed Jesus for what happened to me in the mental hospital, and my actual getting there.
I was so mad at God that he let me momentarily go crazy and allow me to go through such a scary process. I made a fool of myself running in the streets of my apartment complex, telling people to repent because Jesus was coming back soon. The night before, I stayed up all night praying because I thought the devil was out to get me, and the next day after my rampage, I was prepared to die and take a bullet for the sake of Christ. Don’t ask me how I was going to find a gun. That’s part of the crazy. But I was so mad at God after everything became clear. I was mad that I became an extremist who thought her life was going to end with a bullet to the brain at 22. I heard voices telling me to get ready to die and I was ready to give up everything for the glory of God.
It doesn’t even end there.
That same day, I fell into a psychotic rage in the middle of my bedroom. Something told me my dad was the devil and that I was the Christ. The scary thing is that I actually believed that heresy. I cried within and without saying, “I want to get out of here! I want to go to the crazy house! I can’t stand it anymore!”
So the police came and took me away. They took me to the crazy house.
But it was never God’s will for me to die for him. It was to God’s glory that he sent Jesus to die for me! The devil is such an evil liar that he makes people believe that sacrificing their life for God is what brings him glory, but it only makes the One who created human beings very sad. At the time, I didn’t realize this and later when I did I was so mad.
I was so mad at God for all that I experienced while I was in the mental hospital. I saw the devil try to come for my life one night. I saw demons during various nights gathered in groups outside the room I was staying in, waging war to kill me. Various witches manifested themselves inside of the hospital as patients and they cast their hexes on me, my family, my body, and my future because they knew I was Christian.
It was tough in there.
Oh, but I fought back. I quoted Isaiah 54:17 again and again and was amazed at how it stopped all of the curses in their tracks.
Yet, I became weak and afraid. Each and every spiritual battle drained me emotionally, and physically. It literally broke my spirit.
This made me hate myself for making Jesus look bad because as soon as I got there I told everyone “Jesus loves you!” But the enemy entinced me into thinking that I had lost the Holy Spirit and I desperately cried out to God in the middle of the night not to leave me. I’d say, “God! I want to live! Deliver me from this hell!!! I don’t want to die!!!”
The enemy didn’t stop there, he tried so hard to make me renounce my faith by making me think I was a Wiccan. And I would cry out and say, “No, I want to be a Christian!”After that, the nurses really did treat me like a nutcase “Just another religous fanatic who thinks she hears God’s voice.”
That’s what it said on the documents anyway.
So when they finally convinced me to take my meds, they put me on anti-depressants and mood stablizers. Do you know what that medication does to your body and reflexes?! It puts you to sleep and takes away your ability to move your body effectively. I was stiff and sleepy and angry that I couldn’t do normal things for myself like, walk quickly, bring food to my mouth fast enough, or wash my hair. Things I took for granted before, I longed to do for myself.
And when I got home I was a totally different person. The Lord used the meds to bring me into my right mind, but my spirit was still broken and I was struggling with suicidal thoughts. (A side effect from the medication I was taking). I couldn’t find a reason to smile and I became so mad at my dad for making me feel like a dependant child. Things I could do for myself, he did for me. This infuriated me! And furthermore I was infuriated towards God.
But not once did God give up on me. When I felt the most condemned, God sent men and women of God on His behalf to prophetically tell me how loved I am. That I’m His princess, and I have beautiful promises for my life. Everything that I had gone through was for good and for the consolation of other people.
One of my favorite ones is when my beloved friend told me, “you asked God to give you discernment of the spirits and what do you expect? You had to go through the trial.” Haha, I have to admit, I cringed when she told me that, and I even felt a little spite in my heart.
What’s more beautiful is that now, that I’m visiting in Costa Rica, I’ve been feeling some of those mad and sad feelings toward God. It’s beautiful because eventhough I may have been mad during praise and worship, the manifestation of the presence of God becomes so saturated in the air that it’s hard to hold that attitude in the company of His presence.
So when the church service ends and everyone’s gone, I remembered what that company felt like and prayed to Jesus in intimacy. I asked him for forgiveness for blaming him for everything that happened. I knew that it wasn’t God’s fault, but that more than anything, I wanted to be close to him like I was in my first love. A sincere and simple faith. No extremism, no religiousness, I wanted a relationship.
So he began answering that prayer.
I also asked him something else.
Another part of my anger towards God was because I feel like such a lonely person. In reality it’s hard for me to walk up to people and make friends. And after everything that’s happened, I don’t really feel like opening up to people right now. So I’ve become very quiet. In the longrun, this has affected me emotionally because I push eveyrone away.
So I asked the Holy Spirit one night that I felt especially sad to manifest his presence to me like he does during praise and worship when I feel most alone. And to remind me of those good things God says in the bible, and those things spoken over me prophetically by trust-worthy men and women of God. I even asked the Holy Spirit to help me make long-lasting and trustworthy friendships in his perfect timing, and to allow me and my boyfriend to become closer as He sees is good.
And you know what? During those windows of moments when my emotions take a dive for the worst, I’ve felt an overwhelming blanket of peace that is above the circustancial and I remember scripture that says, God is with me and he will never leave me nor forsake me (Deuteronomy 31:6).
I can’t explain it, but all the fear, desperation, and anxiety I felt in the past months that led up to my trip to the hospital has helped highlight the love, peace, compassion and soundness of Jesus’ presence in my life.
Today I found a verse in Psalms that is a reflection of how I literally feel when God is knocking at the doors of my heart. It doesn’t matter whether I’m mad at him, or even if I’m sad and in need of a friend, I know that he wants me to come to him:
My heart has heard you say, “Come and talk with me.” And my heart responds, “Lord, I am coming.” Psalm 27:8
Then instead of being emotional because of the situation, I get all emotional because I realize how lovingly God pursues me, even when I feel like I don’t deserve it.
So you see, just because I may get mad at God, that doesn’t change the fact that he still loves me and that makes me very very happy.