Permission to feel

Posted on May 6, 2010 by elizabeth

"You hide it so well," a friend commented after I shared with her that I grew up in an abusive fundamentalist church. She's known me for three years. It was the first time I told her. 

"You seem so normal," is another thing people tell me.

"But you're so happy! And you smile all the time!" someone else said recently.

And it's true. What they don't realize is that I work hard at being normal. I smile and try to engage others. I am genuinely upbeat and cheerful most of the time. It's not fake. It's just that…I'm also learning that it's OK to be honest about my real struggles.

That is not something that comes naturally to me.

I mean, I used to be a pro at hiding my feelings. I was such a pro that I didn't even know what I was feeling. I had no idea the difference between, say, anger and sadness. In my fundamentalist mind, there were only two ways of being: rejoicing in the Lord or not rejoicing in the Lord. 

And since we were supposed to rejoice in the Lord, always I berated myself all the time for having less than rejoicing feelings.

God has a funny way of tearing down our pretenses. I mean, it's taken full-blown burnout and borderline depression to get me to finally allow myself to really feel what I'm feeling.

To be honest, it's damn terrifying. I have to keep suppressing the urge to cover-it-up, to make it all better, to put on a happy face. I keep having these thoughts that God is somehow displeased with me since I'm not out there "representin' for Christ!" with a cheerful face and a chirpy "HELLO!" to every soul I pass in the grocery aisle. 

I'm beginning to wonder if the whole "I'm doing great work for the kingdom of God" is really just plain ol' pride? I mean, maybe just admitting how little and weak I am is a much better place to be. For one thing, God can handle my breakdown. He is God, after-all.  

Another whopping revelation is that God created my ability to feel. This was not something I pondered much in my fundamentalist church. Feelings were to be beaten into submission, not actually felt.

It's really quite liberating to give myself permission to feel these feelings. To weigh them. To observe them. And then to proceed with the daily duties of life, holding these feelings gently and respectfully–letting them change naturally, without forcing them or bossing them around.

I'm not really one for signs and wonders, but I will say that during this difficult time I've had the distinct feeling that God is with me. Perhaps it's the result of your prayers and mine. Perhaps it's the fact that I'm finally open to Him?

Whatever it is, I'm finding great solace in just reaching out to Him. No agenda. No bargaining. No holy-roller nonsense. Just a weak, broken human stumbling along, messing it up and finding grace along the way.

Maybe this was part of His plan all along.

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  • http://jessicadickson.blogspot.com/ Jessica Denise

    I have struggled with permission to share my feelings and not be rejected. I grew up believing somehow that I was “too much” or that people wouldn’t be able to handle me. I’m the stereotypical emotional person of the family. But now I’m starting to realize, believe, and live out the truth that people don’t just want the happy Jessica that is a real part of me, they want the sad parts too. I am so grateful to have people who let me show that part of myself. Thanks for sharing!

  • http://heart-and-home.net Ashleigh (Heart and Home)

    That permission to feel was something that came silently, stealthily to my heart… to realize that emotions weren’t something to be afraid of, or to pretend don’t exist. It’s interesting, I used to have this image in my mind of the perfectly holy Christian–you know, the one with the gentle-yet-jubilant smile, every word spoken softly, never a waver in demeanor, every word accounted for. And now that I read the Bible with, um, God as my guide, instead of people telling me what the Bible REALLY said, I don’t see that person. I see reality. And brokenness. And pain. And a true peace through feelings of utter abandonment. And I see Jesus. I think I missed Him in there for a whole lotta years.

  • http://sarahjoyalbrecht.com Sarah Joy Albrecht

    Thanks for this encouragement! The verse that always gets to me is Philippians 4:13 :( It bugged me so much, I talked about it here (YouTube) : http://bit.ly/1lqz9Y

    Much love from Japan,
    Sarah

  • http://www.mamabean.ca Mama Bean

    Jesus came to heal the broken. It’s a requirement – brokenness. Churches are hospitals for the hurting. Treating them any other way diminishes God, and our humanity. I am, as always, thankful for your honesty.

  • Alice

    Just what I needed tonight, Elizabeth. Thank you!!! Have shared this on FB. Hug!

  • http://unveilingmoon.blogspot.com Rachel Stephan Simko

    People can sense falsity. When we show our weakness, our humanness, we are more of a witness to the power of the Lord and his work in our lives. Although I was a Christian my whole life, I shrunk away from the Christians at my college because they felt so “fake” and full of fluff. This may not have been fair to them, but it was my assumption, and so I clung to my non-Christian friends– the ones who allowed me to “feel what I was feeling.”

    So embrace the sensitivity that God has put inside you. He is working out his glory in your life, and you are a witness of him to others. Praying for you, sister.

  • http://www.comewearymoms.blogspot.com Virginia Knowles

    “Do Cry”
    by Virginia Knowles

    Do cry
    There is no shame
    When teardrops fall as healing rain
    Our Comforter who sees and knows
    Collects them all in his bottle.
    Do they mingle there with ancient tears of long ago?
    Or far-flung ones around the globe?
    I do not know, nor do I always know why I cry
    Just that there is a deep welling up inside
    Or perhaps a thorn prick of conscience
    Or an oozing scrape of disappointment
    Or a dagger thrust of insult
    Or even the gashing grief of death
    As blood flows, so do tears
    But they are wiped away
    By One who also binds up wounds.

    Do cry
    But not from indulgent self-pity
    Or twisting others to comply
    Cry to wash the soul
    Turn the heart with fresh resolve
    A firmness born from tenderness
    Cry for justice, mercy
    Mourn for suffering that is not your own
    To hear the groans and seek to console
    With the comfort you yourself have received
    There is a blessing in brokenness
    Do cry: then go on in love and joy and peace.

    ~*~*~

    Put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book? ~ Psalm 56:8

    Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! ~ Psalm 126:5

    Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning. ~ Psalm 30:5

    You have turned for me my mourning into dancing. ~ Psalm 30:11

    A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance. ~ Ecclesiastes. 3:4

    Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh. ~ Luke 6:21

    She has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. ~ Luke 7:44

    Jesus wept. ~ John 11:35

    Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. ~ Romans 12:15

    He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. ~ Revelation 21:1

    ~*~*~

    The rest of this, including a great Sara Groves song, is at http://virginiaknowles.blogspot.com/2008/04/do-cry.html

  • Agnes

    EE, you are such a breath of fresh air. I love it. There are a lot of good, Christian blogs out there that come close to the fundamentalism you describe.. it’s so subtle. Where self-loathing is cloaked under ‘dying to self’ and other religious patter, that is not actually godly but RELIGIOUS. YES, die to self; NO, don’t loathe self. See the difference? Very subtle but it’s easy to find good, loving and genuine people in this kind of spiritual and emotional bondage. Speak it out.. keep speaking.. so many Christian women need to hear your words!

  • http://becksthree.blogspot.com becky

    This made me think of that new-ish Amy Grant song “Better than a Hallelujah,” which I really like. The chorus:

    We pour out our miseries
    God just hears a melody
    Beautiful the mess we are
    The honest cries of breaking hearts
    Are better than a Hallelujah.

  • Nella

    My strength is made perfect in weakness. ~II Corinthians 12:9

  • http://catholicmomsjourney.blogspot.com LLMom

    This is exactly what I was talking to my priest about yesterday. I told him I couldn’t pray because I am hurting so bad (and dealing with depression/anxiety). He told me my tears and struggle can be my prayer and just to tell Him all of my struggles, feelings, and fears and that can be a prayer of love to Him.

  • http://www.thegreenlife05.blogspot.com Stephanie

    “I’m beginning to wonder if the whole “I’m doing great work for the kingdom of God” is really just plain ol’ pride? I mean, maybe just admitting how little and weak I am is a much better place to be. For one thing, God can handle my breakdown. He is God, after-all.”

    As I read this story, I was reminded of the story of the Pharisee and the tax collector in Luke 9. It was the tax collector who was justified before God. So I think you’re right – I think admitting our weakness IS a better place to be.

  • http://www.alwayswithme.wordpress.com Julie

    Interesting entry. Just this week, I was thinking to myself that if someone asked how I was feeling (after a long period of stuggle etc) I had no words. I realized that I often don’t know how I am feeling or what I am feeling. Feelings weren’t something that my family was interested in at all and so I have been illequipped to know what to do with feelings. I believe that God allowed me to go through this latest batch of stuff so he could reveal this nugget to me and then today, I come to your blog and see this entry. Appreciate the reminder to not let my feelings to go unidentified.

  • http://findandfound.wordpress.com jessica mell

    yep–good word, agnes.

    we gotta keep that distinction–dying to self, not loathing it.

    and we also gotta keep working to understand how they’re different, and what dying to self actually means, so that we can uphold/live out that distinction well.

  • http://findandfound.wordpress.com jessica mell

    big <3

  • http://deepwatersbubblingbrook.wordpress.com Melissa Amaya

    Elizabeth -
    I stumbled onto your blog a while back via Molly Piper, after stumbling upon her blog. The honesty in your posts have been both encouraging and convicting – certainly challenging my opinions of “what a Christian looks like”.

    I can relate to you here on so many levels. I have gotten some of the same comments from folks when I share details from my childhood. In college, about 6 months after falling into a very deep depression, I finally got the courage to share with some friends, and they were shocked because ‘I hide it so well’. They gave me permission to hurt, which was huge! I still struggle with allowing myself to feel my feelings, but it is getting better. I still have to fight and claw to get my head above water from time to time, as I always seem to sink back into a mini depression about once a year. But that too is getting better, and a little less severe as time goes on.

    Blessing to you and may God grant you courage as you battle this and as you battle so publicly.

    Melissa

  • http://colleenspiro.blogspot.com colleen

    Hugs and blessings!