Posted by: ImpendingDawn | June 21, 2011

Your Love Never Fails

Attending YC has always been a life-changing experience for me. I’m never quite the same at the end of the weekend as I was at the beginning. My perspective is dramatically altered, and I often find myself supporting and needing the support of others as everything we thought we knew about life and God is challenged, shifted, and renewed.

Challenge has really been the key word for the past while. Last year I went to YC and was thrilled and infatuated by a glimpse of God. I foolishly believed that a single extraordinary conversation with Him would immediately and dramatically change my entire life. I guess it did, in a way. A way that I was not expecting.

What I wanted was an easy life, a sense of security, a clean break from the depression that had been haunting me for years. I wanted to renew my relationship with God to its former state with a simple prayer. I wanted my faith back; I needed my faith back. 

Instead, I returned home and was confronted with a new onslaught of doubts. What if that conversation was just my imagination? What if I was only telling myself what I wanted to hear? What if God doesn’t really exist?

What if He doesn’t exist? What if He doesn’t exist? My life is meaningless. Life is meaningless. Everything… I love… is gone.

And the deepest depression I had ever known swallowed me into its clutches. The Devil himself had a grip on me, and he wasn’t letting go. I battled self-hatred, hopelessness, addiction. My skin was brutally marred with razors, nail files, my own fingernails. Blood welled up from my body, but never enough. Depression clung, body dysmorphia intensified. I flirted with the idea of self-starvation. My faith was gone and my suicide was planned.

But I didn’t go through with it. Why? It wasn’t cowardice. It’s not like I had anything to live for. I wasn’t afraid of death; in fact, I longed for it.

It was God.

God saved me.

And gradually, so gradually, I began to feel the hand of God on my life again. At first His presence was so difficult to detect that my doubts told me I was making things up again. He persisted. Over many, many long months, He persisted. And the changes that He had begun in my heart so long ago finally began to surface.

I’m learning that I deserve more than constant pain. I’m learning to look in the mirror again. I’m learning to believe people when they tell me they love me. I’m learning to feel happiness, and smile when I do.

I can now hold a knife without feeling the urge to hurt myself. I can eat a burger without needing to starve myself the next day. I can wake up and FEEL. I’m not numb. I’m not empty. I’m not hopeless. I have faith.

Not everyone can say that, though. And if I was nearly crushed by a dramatic loss of faith simply so I could help someone else through the same thing, so be it. If I can make even the smallest difference in another’s person’s life through my renewed faith in God’s love, I would willingly go through all of my struggles again. Because in the end, I want my life to be like YC. I want to be constantly challenged; I want my perspective shifted and my spirit renewed. And if I can accept support through this process, and offer mine to those around me, I’d say that’s a pretty damn good life.

P.S. I had a pretty sweet video I wanted to attach to this post, but it didn’t work. I also had a somewhat hilarious picture of Harold Camping for my last post, and I wasn’t able to attach that either. I can’t figure out what’s wrong with the media sharing on the blog of the sudden, but I do apologize for the lack of visual interest. <<Click this link to see the song that inspired the title!


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