Withered

Psalm 1: 1-3

How happy is the man
who does not follow the advice of the wicked
or take the path of sinners
or join a group of mockers!
Instead, his delight is in the Lord’s instruction,
and he meditates on it day and night.
He is like a tree planted beside streams of water
that bears its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither.
Whatever he does prospers.

Ten years ago, I began wrestling with the “rules” of Christianity, the supposed things I had to do to be a “good Christian girl.” I was frustrated that I never seemed to measure up, so I found my outlet for control through an eating disorder and a lot of anger at my parents. Call it teenage angst, if you will, but I know deep down that it was a lot more than that. The rule-based Christianity I feel like I grew up with was making me feel withered, and I did not know what else to do.

Seven years ago, I found myself on the opposite end of the spectrum. I had thrown out the “rules” and had turned to a much more emotion-driven gospel. I got myself into a situation where I began praying and reading Scripture, and creating God's answers. I believed He had promised me something, and I found a way to turn every Bible verse and every life circumstance into proof of this promise. When things didn't pan out, I threw that emotionalism out the window as well.

And I have been struggling to find a middle ground, a true ground, since. Though there have been a few seasons of deeper closeness with God, I have ultimately been trying to sustain my faith by minimal watering here and there. Two years ago, my eyes were finally opened to the true gospel, that I am saved because of Jesus, and not because of Jesus and... and the grace of Christ has been at work in my cold, bitter, frustrated heart ever since.

Currently, I am doing a Bible study with my sister about studying the Bible, which is producing a lot of great clarity for me and helping me to finally realize many of the lies I believed throughout my entire life. Last week, one of the response sections was on Psalm 1, and it struck an intense chord in my heart. I read through to verse three, where it says, “...whose leaf does not wither.” For the first time in seven years, I was able to put a finger on exactly what I have been feeling... withered. Yes, I am a mother of a toddler and an infant, but this withered feeling goes far beyond just being physically tired. I am withered in every sense of the word. I have long sense thrown out prayer, because I don't know how. I have thrown out writing and singing, because those are too emotional. I have thrown out reading the Bible because I feel like I'm always missing the point or not doing it right. I look for emotional highs in a good night's sleep, a cup of coffee, or a worship experience, but deep down, in the every day, I feel intensely withered and broken.

Why am I writing? I had sworn off blogging before. I had sworn off writing altogether. But as I teach writing day in and day out, I am keenly aware that writing is the way in which I process things, and the place I can be truly honest with myself, God, and others. I know someone else out there must be feeling withered too. I don't have all of the answers, and honestly, I am just trekking back into finding the way to God's bringing this very dead plant back to life. Right now, I feel exactly like this one plant in my kitchen looks like. (I am terrible at remembering to water plants. That reminds me; I should go water my basil plant now...) I have neglected watering it too many times, so that most of the remaining shoots are brown and papery, with just a few green shoots left. I don't think there is a way to bring that poor plant back to life, but I know that I am able to come back to life, because of Christ. Because He is stronger and greater than all of the deadness in me. I look forward to writing again, to being honest, to seeing the work of Christ's grace in my own heart.