I’ve started and restarted today’s article countless times, writing and erasing, and then writing and erasing some more, trying to find some wisdom to share, or any words really. Unfortunately, I’m coming up drastically short as I sit here on this 3rd floor balcony, gazing upon the ocean, one that sits sprawled out directly in front of me in a 270-degree view late at night in York, Maine.
Usually, being near the ocean inspires me, especially when it’s this late at night. More often than not actually, I tend to find and feel the presence of God in moments like this. But tonight, neither is true and truth be told, I don’t feel God anymore, not for a long while now, and that’s something I don’t know what to do about. While I still believe in a Higher Power, something that my 12 Step recovery requires and something that I can attest is the only thing that’s kept me going forward instead of backwards into a life of addiction, I remain feeling utterly defeated. Defeated from an arduous spiritual journey that feels on most days likes it’s going nowhere except in circles.
What I want the most in life seems to incessantly evade me. Call it God, or call it peace and joy, or call it both, it doesn’t matter. I just want to feel God’s peace and joy within me, regardless of whether my health issues ever go away or don’t. I’ve prayed, meditated, read scripture and other inspirational words, said affirmations, gotten exercise, eaten healthy, practiced gratitude, helped others, and written and spoke about it all on a regular basis, and yet I continue to wake every day, feeling empty, weeping, and full of sorrow. Sorrow over the despair from it all.
I know what it feels like to have the Light of God shining brightly within me, but my light feels pretty dim right now. I fight the physical depression from it all, every, single, day and do pretty well with that. Heck, today alone, I played a marathon of miniature golf with six courses in seven hours, winning every single one of them, yet here I am, still feeling deeply miserable inside. And that’s not because I have some serotine imbalance, or some chemical imbalance, or because I went out and engaged in some addiction, or distanced myself from God somehow, or did anything really to separate myself from the Light of God. But why I continue to feel this way though is beyond explanation and beyond me.
The fact is science and medicine can’t fix this and holistic healing only took me so far. I feel the rest is in God’s hands. Why God has been silent with me I don’t know. Maybe God hasn’t been silent and I’m just speaking a different language? Maybe my level of pain is blocking our communication? Maybe I pissed God off and this is my punishment? Maybe this is penance for the many hedonist ways I’ve lived? Or maybe it has nothing to do with me at all? Regardless, I feel as if I’m sitting in a jail and have been for a long time, one without knowledge of why or even when I’ll be released.
If I could step foot in a courtroom and have God let me know what the charges of my life are that are keeping me in this place, it would be far better than to be left in all this unknowingness, this unease, one that consumes me every day, especially as I witness the joy and peace in others.
God, I believe you are still there. And I’m still here Lord too. Waiting. On You. All that matters in my world anymore is to feel your peace and joy again, two things that continue to elude me, no matter what I seem to do. Without those two things God, I don’t know how to remain here anymore. Yet somehow, I trudge on, limping at best, choosing to believe somehow, in some way, that You are still there, even when I don’t see You or feel You anymore.
So, I guess maybe the ocean did inspire me tonight, Lord and I thank You for at least that, in finding these words, to continue being the transparent Soul You’ve had me become…one that still claims my faith in You, even when I don’t know why I still do…
Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson