Gotta have faith.
Love comes
gradually. After my first spiritual
retreat I began attending a night of bible study talks directed by the priest
of the Old Catholic Church I was attending.
I would sit in the last row just listening never participating. This pattern followed for a year-
I would go to Mass and the talks, but from Thursday thru Saturday I would self-medicate
with alcohol and late night partying. I
was drawn to Christian philosophy and the way of life, but at the time I felt like
I couldn’t give up my current lifestyle.
It seemed like God was asking for way more from me than He
would give in return. Things got really
bad - I would get so wasted to temporarily numb the pain. At the bar I frequented the waitress started
bringing me bottles of wine instead of selling it to me by the glass, knowing
that I was a heavy drinker. One night I
got so pissing drunk that I got our group kicked out of a club. I was also driving under the influence- just trying
to self-destruct. My best friend (the
biggest party girl and liberal) had to have an intervention with me- as we walked our
dogs she told me that I was scaring the group with my drunken behavior that I
needed to tone it down a bit. As I began
to drink less the depression got worse.
Yet, I would show up to Mass every Sunday morning completely hung over
and cry during the entire service. God
was calling me higher, but I was afraid and so used to my darkness that His
light seemed impossible- out of reach for me.
God is a
gentleman, He never pushes one farther or faster than we are willing (or
ready) to go. After speaking with the
priest – I went back on treatment for my bipolar disorder. Yet, it was as if all the evil forces of the
universe were out to get me. Finding the
right combination of drugs that were compatible with my brain chemistry was
another year full of mental anguish. As
we tried different combinations of drugs the side effects were horrible. The worst was hearing voices. Am not sure how to explain what hearing
voices is like- other than a terrible mental prison at war! This negative, never ending dialogue taking
place inside your head. You can’t sleep, eat, you can’t listen to anyone, you see messages in writing and reality is so confused
and distorted by the imaginary that one is lost and trapped by our own mind. Eventually the voices start giving orders –
and one of the last orders people usually receive is to end it through
suicide. One restless night- I received the
command to end my life. In the solitude
of the night I was ready to obey, but my little dog with his beautiful innocent
eyes brought me back to reason and together we survived the night. I owe my life to my dog.
The
following day, I went to a healing service and a visiting priest- one who knew
nothing about me not even my name placed his hands over my head. I closed my eyes and as he prayed over me I
saw this great white explosion in my brain.
Then he said, “your mind and heart have been healed.” Since then the voices went away and I have
been stable on my medications. Later, that week I
would find out that the voices were a result of two medications that shouldn’t
have been combined and while science gave me a solution to the healing – I know
that it was God alone who healed me. I have often wondered
how the priest knew that my mind was hurting as much as my heart broken. Never again have I seen this priest so I guess my questions will have to wait until we meet again on the other side... Miracles are still happening every single day… Place you hope in God and the impossible trembles at the sound of His voice.
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