Which Is Greater: Fear or Pain?

Pain is a grieving process.

Advertisements

As I was laying down, writhing in pain from an injury to my lower spine, I began to tell God this was his body. I am his creation. I called out to my Father God and told him I knew he could see me and he knew of my anguish. And I knew he could feel my pain.

God asked me, “Which is greater, your fear or your pain?

I thought a minute. All my life I’ve had great fear. Fear has been a constant lurking foe. As I’ve walked out his journey, I’ve conquered so many fears in varying degrees. The fear of rejection, of being judged harshly and disliked by people. And the fear of public speaking.

Each time, through tears, but by trusting God’s plan for me, I gutted it up and walked through the fire with His wings. Each time, he supernaturally came through my shaking voice and body, giving me a grace to make it through. And learn, it wasn’t by My strength at all that pushed and pulled me through. It was His.

Last week as another fear came upon me, of how I might eventually die. Yes, I know: morbid, but haven’t we all wished to just peacefully pass in on our sleep?

I heard inside me, very clear, very distinct this question: “Have you not been through enough to see that my plan for you is perfect?”

I knew it was God’s voice. You just know. You hear it inside, but it seems to have a voice from outside close to you that comulates in your soul. He tends to ask me very thought provoking questions. Questions I wouldn’t even know to ask myself.

So tonight, as I laying there talking to him about the relentless pain. He asked me which was greater, fear or pain.

My answer was Pain. Yep, as much as I fear, still… Pain takes the cake. Pain forces you to focus on the Moment. Not a lot of extra energy to perceive future events when pain screams unrelenting in its attention seeking. Each moment grabs at your soul, forcing you deeper into your consciousness.

Pain is a grieving process.

I then heard, “So if pain is greater, pain causes an action over fear.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant.

Then I thought about when you’re in a bad relationship and the pain it causes reaches a crescendo where the fear has to take a backseat because the pain is too great, forcing you to make a change.

As I laid there, realizing I’m onto something very deep, the pain had subsided to a tolerable level …

… And I got up to write.

No Roots 🌱

NO ROOTS
Alice Merton
I like digging holes and hiding things inside them
When I’ll grow old I hope I won’t forget to find them
‘Cause I’ve got memories and travel like gypsies in the night
I built a home and wait for someone to tear it down
Then pack it up in boxes, head for the next town running
‘Cause I’ve got memories and travel like gypsies in the night
And a thousand times I’ve seen this road
A thousand times
I’ve got no roots, but my home was never on the ground
I’ve got no roots, but my home was never on the ground
I’ve got no roots uh uh uh uh
I’ve got no roots uh uh uh uh
I’ve got no roots, but my home was never on the ground
I’ve got no roots, but my home was never on the ground
I’ve got no roots uh uh uh uh
I’ve got no roots uh uh uh uh
I like standing still, boy that’s just a wishful plan
Ask me where I come from, I’ll say a different land
But I’ve got memories and travel like gypsies in the night
I can’t get the numbers, and play the guessing name
It’s just the place that changes, the rest is still the same
But I’ve got memories and travel like gypsies in the night
And a thousand times I’ve seen this road
A thousand times
I’ve got no roots, but my home was never on the ground
I’ve got no roots, but my home was never on the ground
I’ve got no roots uh uh uh uh
I’ve got no roots uh uh uh uh
I’ve got no roots, but my home was never on the ground
I’ve got no roots, but my home was never on the ground
I’ve got no roots uh uh uh uh
I’ve got no roots uh uh uh uh
I like digging holes
Hiding things inside them
When I’ll grow old
I won’t forget to find them
I like digging holes
Hiding things inside them
When I’ll grow old
I won’t forget to find them
I’ve got no roots
No roots
I’ve got no roots, but my home was never on the ground
I’ve got no roots, but my home was never on the ground

Traveling-Solo-Women

Painfully Obvious

What I’ve learned about myself experiencing constant unrelenting all encompassing pain is that I am stronger than I would have ever imagined… or ever wanted to be. There is a depth to pain that defies logic.

There have been times where I questioned everything I’d ever thought or said or done. Looking to the core. Past facades, past games and illusions. I’ve scrutinized my every motive. I’ve peered into the nakedness of my soul. Dissecting timelines and choices. I’ve asked for forgiveness and learned to forgive myself in return. Knowing that on clearing those paths, healing has a better chance of happening.

Sanity is not a fixed issue. Waves of torment, fear and doubt assault the mind’s door with a pounding for answers and begging for relief. Surreal becomes the norm. I questioned if I was in literal hell. A very hellish nightmare of repetitive torture and confinement. It’s very claustrophobic. My mind tries to configure an escape, but I feel like a rat in a maze trying to find a way out all the while being pelted with unseen waves of blasted energy, my nerves under fire. 

The clock becomes an enemy in its tormenting lag. Hour upon hour pass in painful segments as I sit awake and alone in the dark, praying it subsides down to a level 6-7 So possibly I might escape into sleep. But sleep only gives me an hour or two. Then I wake up and the assault slams me again, like a punch to my face. Each day is like ‘Ground Hog Day’ the movie, but without redemption or Bill Murray.

 
What do you do when you can’t escape yourself? When tatters of your soul lie tossed upon a shelf, as hammers of torture penetrate your body. This can’t be right, it’s such an oddity.

To cope with this cruel level of pain, I can’t help but question whether or not I’m still sane. The waves crash, my body is in constant crisis. The piercing stabbing of chronic binding stasis. There’s no escape and the attack is brutal. My aching consciousness feels life is unfair and futile.

How I long for happier days when moving, walking, sleeping came without obstacle or thought and I was free from agony, not caught in its web of insidious entropy.

I pray, I cry, I beg, I scream. I feel claustrophobic trapped inside myself and pray for what seems like a dream, to be whole and happy and well and free. When you read these words…  please pray for me. ♡

20180220_123343~2

Out of the Forest of Fear and Pain

I had a vision as I was laying down. My body writhing in pain from an injury. I began to breathe deeply, relaxing myself, asking for peace.

Then it came.

I was above a circular clearing next to a dense forest. As I looked at the trees, I saw fragments of myself hiding behind them, peering out at me. They ranged in age, from tiny to adulthood. I recognized each self. Then I realized those parts of me got splintered off and cast into The Forest of Fear and Pain.

It happens to us all.

When we are children, the most important approval is from our parents. When something happens and we feel that disapproval and rejection, it hits hard. We blame a part of ourselves. We blame the ‘bad’ part and a piece of our soul is banished into this forest. A vacuum is created and something will fill that space. And our false selves are born in pain.

As I watched, I felt such love as they began to come out of the safety of the trees just waiting for me to come find myself and forgiveness. As I welcomed myself into myself, my soul back into my soul, I knew I was home. ❤

20180205_132448~2