Misery

Romans 8:1 ... there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

This is part 6 of a story to help me process ... and discover Freedom. (continued from part 5- Veritas Liberabit Vos)

(Part 1- Where am I?; Part 2- Discombobulation; Part 3- Revelation; Part 4- Hesitation)
____________________

After Jesus had pulled me back up the ledge he stepped back and looked at me, beaming.  His smile was so big, it caught me off guard.  I gingerly stepped away from the ledge edge and rubbed my shoulder, unable to think of anything to say.

With a final appraisal, he said, "Ok, then.  Let's go."  He effortlessly hopped off the edge to the ledge below and disappeared where I had struggled up from before.  He took a couple of steps where I could see him again and turned back to look at me.  He raised his eyebrows in an unspoken, "Are you coming?"

I looked towards the cave I had fled from, confused.  Not that I wanted to go back there, but surely that was where we should go.  I looked back at Jesus below with a questioning look of my own.

"That's not the way.  C'mon, I'll help you down," and he took a step forward his head dissappearing out of sight again.

I shuffled forward to the edge of the cliff and could see him waiting for me.  Climbing down was always so much harder than climbing up.  Looking past Jesus, I could see the river below, distant and ominous.  The ledge I was on seemed a much safer place to be and I backed up a step or two.

I let out my breath, unaware I had been holding it.  I really didn't want to go anywhere.  I was emotionally exhausted.  From the climb up, from the effort it took to walk into the cave, from the failure of having run away from it and from the certainty I was going to fall to my death.  I was too tired to climb back down, but I certainly didn't want to go back into the blackness.  "Urgh," I moaned, as I reflected on these things.

I was a mess.  I was confused.  How can Jesus accept me like this?  Here I was thinking I was doing the right thing and he tells me it is not the way.  You can't hear God.  I can't hear God.  How many times have I done something only to discover that's not what God meant?  I wanted to do the right thing, but I got it wrong so many times why should I bother trying anymore?  Surely, there were more capable people that can actually hear God.  It used to be so easy to know what to do and I just did it.  Now, it felt I had misstepped so often I would be more of a detriment to God's purpose than a help.

However, I still wanted to please God and the thought of letting Jesus see me in this state of confusion and uncertainty moved me to action.  I smirked at the irony.  I put on my false confidence and peered over the ledge again.

"Feet first would probably be best," Jesus said with a gentle smile.

I turned around and got down on my knees.  I backed up slowly until my knees and then my thighs were sliding over the cliff edge.  As I shimmied backward the rock began to dig into my stomach.  I could feel it scraping as my shirt pulled up.  Oh God, don't let me fall. My feet were searching eagerly for a place to step, and I felt Jesus grab my foot.  I continued to lower myself down as he guided each of my feet into a foothold.  Once I was on solid ground again, I brushed myself off and straightened my clothes.

Jesus looked at me, "You OK?"

"Yes," I lied, and immediately regretted it.  Why would I lie to Jesus?  He knows exactly what I am thinking and even that I'm lying.  Stupid.  Stupid.  But somehow I managed to say, "Yes," a second time, as if saying it twice would make it truthful.

He smiled, "OK," and turned around and began making his way down the trail.  Defeated and angry at myself I followed after him.  Why do I do that?  Am I so used to false pretenses, that to lie about how I am doing to Jesus himself came that easily?  I shook my head in dismay.  Maybe I should say something?  Confess my sins.  Ask for forgiveness.  No words came to my mouth.  You brought this on yourself.  I don't deserve his forgiveness.

And so we continued down the trail.  I trudged along, ashamed of myself.  My inner voice making relentless accusations that were all true.  Jesus would stop now and then and look at me.  Maybe to see if I was still following, maybe to see if I needed help.  I never made eye contact, how could I?  Once I caught up, he would continue on and I just followed after, head hung low, lost in my own misery.

You are a failure.  Nobody needs you.  God doesn't love you.  You've let Him down.


____________________

continue to part 7- Hysterical