Fetal Position

“Are you going to get out of the fetal position today,” these words reverberated through my head as I got up to walk my dog this morning. I think they were from the Lord, but not 100% sure. It sounds like something He might say to me, especially since I’ve been in the poor me state for a few weeks.

I changed churches, gave up my position as Bible study teacher, my safety as a member of a great women’s ministry team, had one of my closet friendships change, and been crushed in my hope to write a book. I mean there are a lot of people out there hurting way more than I am, so the crying over my “loss” seems really rather sad. But when a hope is deferred, no matter what the hope is, the heart gets a little bit sick.

The other factor in my moping is that I have not felt the Lord’s presence in my life. That close community of spirit that radiates through my soul warming my inner man like the sun warms my face on a clear October morning. I realized just the other day that it is the loss of His presence that is breaking my heart more than anything else.

If God’s hand is absent, what is the point of a Christian’s existence? I can try all day long to live a godly life, to teach the Bible, to write inspiring posts on my blog, but in the end there is absolutely no fruit without the Jesus. His working through me has been missing for a while now. That is why I resigned from women’s ministry, and stopped teaching Bible studies.

At the time, I thought those were the areas He was no longer blessing and that He was moving me into a “bigger and better” arena of ministry. With the book proposal rejections and no one calling for me to speak at any of their events, I started to realize that those ideas might have been just that, ideas. I started to sense that I had moved out on my own, not just from those I had once ministered with, but moved out on my own from my Father.

My many layers of depression are rooted in His absence.

My spiritual “fetal position” has lasted awhile now because I have chosen not to make everything, including myself, seem all right. I know the tools I have used in the past to fix myself. I read my Bible in the morning, ask God to bless my day and the day of those I love and those I don’t love as much. I fulfill my responsibilities to my family, friends and church, and my activity level makes me “feel” like I am walking in the Spirit. I get a “spiritual” shot in the arm, a sense of self-worth because I am doing stuff for the Lord. Funny though, I can do all I want, but all that doing doesn’t work if my goal is to restore my friendship with God.

You see, I know this, because I have tried to make myself feel better in Jesus a hundred times. I decided this time I wasn’t going to try to “make” anything happen. I decided to mourn my losses, to wait on God’s Spirit to move in me, not to fix myself, and the cool thing is that the Lord is okay with that. He doesn’t want us to pull ourselves up by our boot straps. He hasn’t pushed me, He hasn’t rushed me to be better. Now, I have been tempted time after time to “get back in the game,” but I have tried to resist that temptation.

I’ve been too depressed to actually realize all of this, and I am thankful that my sadness finally demobilized me long enough to cause me to know I was missing Him. I don’t want to move forward without His presence, I need Him more than I need anything or anyone else. I need Him more than I need to serve Him, I need Him more than I need to know my place in the world around me, I need Him more than I need to fit in, I need Him more than I need to be active or seem important. I need Him more than I need to eat, more than I need to breathe, more than I need my heart to beat. I need Him.

So, when I heard His words today, “Are you going to get out of the fetal position.” I knew He was talking to me again, or at least I could finally hear Him. I was a little surprised at the words, but not at the meaning behind them. I looked up and said, “Ya, Lord. I think I am ready. I think I am ready to walk with You today.”