At
one time, while I wallowed in a spiritual bottom, I secretly hoped someone
would rescue me. I say “secretly” because I had convinced myself that I could
pull myself up by my own bootstraps. This belief proved itself to be based on
some pretty shaky evidence because I wasn’t able to see, or give credit to,
those who had been carrying me most of the time. Incredulously, however, I
couldn’t help but to dream of a Hollywood
ending where some sort of romantic alliance would be the cure-all for my
predicament. This confusion bedeviled my efforts, and the demands I made on
those closest to me further deepened the futility, driving the nails into the
lid of my depression.
How bad can it
get? The isolation of thinking of my failures being resolved by my own efforts
was coupled by resentment I had for others who failed to meet my demands for
help (whether my demands were unmet by institutions or individuals). I am ever
so grateful I didn’t find the help I wanted because I eventually got the help I
actually needed. Yes, I found in the darkness of my despair, I needed to lean on a power greater than any human being and,
had I not isolated myself to the degree I had, I may have never found the Heart
of Compassion.
Today I depend
on God to stir in me the compassion I need to extend my concerns to others and
that is what lifted my spirit out of the doldrums of depression. What help I
needed was not at all what I wanted and when I surrendered my aspirations (and contempt for my own failures), it
clicked. It simply clicked and there was freedom, light and love where I would have never expected it..
geo, 4,703
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