Spiritually and Emotionally Overwhelmed

Gethsemane – His Will, by Lucy Dickens

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
    from where will my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
    who made heaven and earth. (Psalm 121:1-2, NRSV)

“You can’t calm the storm, so stop trying. What you can do is calm yourself. The storm will pass.” – Timber Hawkeye

Even Jesus got overwhelmed.

He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”

Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” (Matthew 26:37-39, New International Version)

Jesus was so spiritually and emotionally overwhelmed, he felt so bad, that depression and grief were a powerful part of his experience in the garden as he anticipated facing his horrendous death.

Yes, Jesus became grieved and depressed. Not only did he express such emotions in prayer, but he also told his feelings to his disciples. I personally don’t know of any leader – either in the world or in the church – that would ever admit such a thing to his/her parishioners, employees, or constituents.

Christ confessed that his very soul was encircled with grief-stricken depression. The weight of the emotion was so heavy that Jesus felt as though he was being crushed to death.

“It is one thing for Jesus to feel this way; but should a leader tell his followers he feels this way? Isn’t a part of effective leadership keeping fears from followers? But if Jesus having depression has already taught us it is acceptable, at times, to be depressed, then Jesus talking about his depression teaches that it is acceptable, at times, for leaders to tell followers the bad state of their souls.” – Frederick Dale Bruner, The Church Book: Matthew 13-28

If Jesus needed human companionship and the ability to bear his soul, then how much more do his followers need to do so? And especially the clerics who are ordained to his ministry?

Becoming overwhelmed is a universal human experience:

May my prayer come before you;
    turn your ear to my cry.

I am overwhelmed with troubles
    and my life draws near to death.
I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
    I am like one without strength. (Psalm 88:2-4, New International Version)

We may become overwhelmed by being devastated or feeling overpowered by a confluence of circumstances all at once. To be overwhelmed is to experience several big emotions all at once – including an awful feeling of estrangement from God and/or others.

Whenever complicated grief, relational distance, traumatic experiences, and too many responsibilities come together, they create a perfect storm which can leave us stuck, lonely, and chronically tired.

There are times when it seems as if every time we turn around, there’s another big shoe that drops. We might end up dealing with so many large circumstances and important situations happening at the same time, that we become spiritually and emotionally overwhelmed with it all.

Although it’s easy to become overwhelmed, it’s hard to get over those big, troubled feelings. Yet, we can do it. We can initially calm ourselves enough to function.

Yet, we also need to understand that the emotional array surrounding our difficult circumstances will take more than a few minutes and a few breathing exercises to overcome; it could take weeks, months, even longer.

What’s more, going forward, there will always be a need to listen to our bodies, be attentive to our feelings, and remain in touch with our gut instincts.

We could use some helpful habits to serve us well, whenever we sense the tug toward that sinking feeling of becoming spiritually and emotionally overwhelmed:

  • Sit with your emotions, especially the grief. That is, acknowledge your feelings, and actually let yourself feel them, and express them in positive ways that don’t damage others or their property.
  • Identify and list your current stressors. Then, prioritize them as to which you will work on first. Avoid multi-tasking. Breaking down your life into manageable pieces, done over time with patience, is a healthy way of approaching the behemoth in front of you.
  • Write out your experiences. Keep a daily journal. Focus on expressing both your emotions and your gratitude. The act of writing in and of itself is a powerful means of bringing health, wholeness, and some sort of sense to your situations.
  • Create art. Learn a musical instrument, write your own poetry, sculpt, or paint. Let any anger and frustration come out through your art, rather than coming out sideways onto others through verbal violence.
  • Discover new or alternative spiritual practices, i.e. mindfulness, meditation, Reiki, aromatherapy, breath prayers, etc. Crazy new circumstances you’ve never experienced before may require some seemingly new or strange practices you’ve never tried before.
  • Change the story you are telling yourself. Look for parts of your experience within your control. Learn from the past. Consider what you might do differently in the future in similar situations. In other words, let your story not be one big nasty carbuncle on your soul; allow it to be a companion that teaches you.
  • Consider having a comfort animal. Caring for a pet fosters emotional healing. This one addition to your life could change it immeasurably for good.
  • Engage your inner critic. Face the judgment you may be giving yourself and replace it with grace. Work on dropping the ego and becoming your true self. And there is perhaps no better way of this happening than facing your inner critic.
  • Exercise. Pay attention to where you carry stress in your body. Find an enjoyable way of moving your body.
  • Connect with others. Join a group of like-minded people, such as a faith community or a volunteer organization. Tell your story to another trusted person, such as a friend, therapist, or pastor.
  • Find your identity. Most spiritual traditions take a high view of humanity as having intrinsic worth. As for me, I know to whom I belong: God. Having my identity firmly in Christ – and not in my abilities, or the lack of them – makes all the difference.

Our limitations, screw-ups, diseases, disorders, and disasters need not define our lives. There is no shame in admitting when we are full of sorrow, in the throes of grief, experiencing depression, or living in an awful situation.

Taking Jesus as an example, we have the courage to face stressful adversity and become the people we were always meant to become.

May the places of darkness within you be turned towards the light. And may you know divine shelter and healing blessing when you are called to stand in the place of pain. Amen.

Waiting with Hope (Romans 8:22-25)

Art depicting cracked earth, a dry riverbed, white plastic shapes, a lack of life and the red glow of fire. The figures are separated, lacking any real connection. By artist Chris De Hoog

For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering.

We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children, including the new bodies he has promised us. We were given this hope when we were saved. (If we already have something, we don’t need to hope for it. But if we look forward to something we don’t yet have, we must wait patiently and confidently.) (New Living Translation)

Salvation is not only personal; it’s also cosmic.

That is, freedom from the power of sin, death, and hell is not only for an individual person, but this deliverance is for all of creation, for the entire earth.

So then, all of creation – not just people – long for and groan for the advent of Christ. My oak tree in the backyard longs for it. My dog whines for it. When it rains, the sky is wondering how long it will have to keep up its tears.

Together with the entire cosmos, we look forward to the complete fulfillment of our inheritance as God’s creation, as God’s creatures.

Since that is true, it is Christians who need to see the privilege and responsibility of conducting ourselves with unity, harmony, and non-violence. We are to live this way because we are foreshadowing the end of the world’s story.

There is a day coming when there will be no more malevolent and selfish posturing for power and control. No more oppression and victimization. No more injustice.

And we have the chance to begin living that way now, and not only in a future time. We get to do this because of Christ.

But that doesn’t mean we don’t suffer anymore. Presently, along with all creation, we have pain like that of a woman in childbirth. This is no papercut inconvenient pain; this is “I hurt like hell” pain. That sort of pain has us awaiting the redemption of our bodies.

I work as a hospital chaplain. Every day, I see suffering, some of it unimaginable. I listen to stories of people longing for healing, and grasping at hope. And I hear plenty of groaning (both the actual physical groans, as well as the more quiet internal sighs and groans).

I say to you: The human body is not meant to be destroyed. Our physical selves are not destined for elimination. No, our bodies are meant to be redeemed; they are meant for salvation. It will not always be this way!

So, we hope.

The Christian has the confident expectation that not only is the soul redeemed, but the body, as well. We can enjoy spiritual salvation now. But we must wait for the physical deliverance. There must be patience on our part until Resurrection Day.

The Apostle Paul was calling on believers to hope. Five times he said it in only two verses. Paul was emphasizing the need for spiritual endurance because we have not yet arrived.

In case you haven’t noticed, we aren’t in heaven; this isn’t a renewed earth; people around the globe are not all presently singing kumbaya together.

Therefore, it is imperative that we live with the tension between the “now” and the “not yet.” It’s a weird existence, this Christian life. But, in reality, we exist in the paradox of being saved now, and not yet being saved.

Another way of putting this is that God’s adopted children have not yet received their inheritance.

But that doesn’t mean we’ve been left to ourselves. We have the first fruits of our salvation: the Holy Spirit.

We presently, right now, enjoy a real and significant portion of God’s freedom and deliverance. We have God’s gift of presence. There is the continuing presence of Jesus Christ with us, the blessed Holy Spirit.

And this divine presence is what today helps us to endure and hold onto hope. By holding this future hope, we learn to accept, cope, and transcend our circumstances through love.

Therefore, since we have been made right in God’s sight by faith, we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us. Because of our faith, Christ has brought us into this place of undeserved privilege where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to sharing God’s glory.

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love. (Romans 5:1-5, NLT)

The very suffering which we so often try to avoid and get out of, becomes the means of connecting us with Christ and with others.

The problem becomes the answer.

The Spirit groans with our own spirit, and we all become connected together.

I point out, however, that not everyone wants this sort of connection. There are many people who want nothing to do with solidarity.

Some folks want to remain in their own little huddle or small world; and they take offense at anyone outside of their group who seeks to understand and connect with that group’s suffering.

Although everyone’s pain and suffering is unique – and no one can fully know another’s sorrow – that does not mean solidarity and connection are impossible, or undesirable.

I don’t need to have cancer in order to connect with a cancer patient. I don’t have to become victimized to show genuine empathy and extend competent comfort. Yet, sadly, some persons only want connection and consolation from a certain person or group.

But I say to that: Who are you to tell God whom God can love you through?

To suffer is one thing, because we all must suffer in some way. But to compound your suffering by your own volition is another thing altogether.

You deserve better than harming yourself through cutting off help.

It could be that today is the day you reach out to that person you know will be there for you. Or, perhaps now is the time to quite putting off making space for prayer and reflection.

Whatever it is that you need to do, it’s okay to do it, without putting it off until tomorrow.

Lord Jesus Christ, by your patience in suffering you hallowed earthly pain and gave us the example of obedience to your Father’s will: Be near me in my time of weakness and pain; and sustain me by your grace, so that my strength and courage may not fail. Heal me according to you will; and help me always to believe that whatever happens to me here is of little account if you hold me in eternal life. Amen.

Feeling the Pain (Job 23:1-9, 16-17)

Then Job answered:

“Today also my complaint is bitter;
    his hand is heavy despite my groaning.
Oh, that I knew where I might find him,
    that I might come even to his dwelling!
I would lay my case before him
    and fill my mouth with arguments.
I would learn what he would answer me
    and understand what he would say to me.
Would he contend with me in the greatness of his power?
    No, but he would give heed to me.
There the upright could reason with him,
    and I should be acquitted forever by my judge.

“If I go forward, he is not there;
    or backward, I cannot perceive him;
on the left he hides, and I cannot behold him;
    I turn to the right, but I cannot see him….

God has made my heart faint;
    the Almighty has terrified me.
If only I could vanish in darkness,
    and thick darkness would cover my face. (New Revised Standard Version)

Here is Job, sitting on an ash heap, of all things, and feeling like an ash. His children are gone, all killed by tragic circumstances. His wealth is no more. And now he is lamenting, because he can do nothing else; he has painful nasty sores covering his body that won’t let him do anything.

Job and his friends, by Ilya Repin (1844-1930)

And if that isn’t enough, Job’s “friends” come and end up giving him unhelpful speeches about how all this suffering is really his fault. They reasoned (wrongly) that there must be loads of sin in Job’s life for him to be going through such horror. God is punishing him, they insist.

Job’s companions had initially started out well. For seven days they sat with him in silence (Job 2:13). But then, after a week had passed, they just couldn’t take it anymore. They had the compulsion to speak. And when they opened their mouths, it was merely a bunch of ignorant gobbledygook.  

The friends, the companions, were themselves having an existential theological crisis. Their worldview was being challenged and threatened. So, rather than be open-minded and consider that their views may need to be altered, the friends acted like enemies, accusing Job of sin.

At issue was their clear and clean theology of believing that good guys are blessed with wealth, health, and happiness; and bad guys are cursed with poverty, illness, and misery – like Job.

They could not imagine or entertain the thought that God would let a good person suffer like Job was suffering. Therefore, Job must be bad, and they tried to find that hidden sin within him  to which he must repent of.

Yet, in truth, not all suffering – even terrible grinding suffering – is the result of personal sin or bad decision-making. Sometimes, good people suffer horribly, too.

Times may change, but people throughout the ages don’t. Today, we still think along the same lines as the companions of Job. There is far too much blaming of victims for their victimization; and way too many flippant beliefs which say to others in a terrible situation things like, “You reap what you sow.”

Job, through all of the loss, tragedy, and then suffering from his friends, held onto his integrity. Even though Job knew his situation was undeserved, he did not curse God, nor his friends.

Job made the incredible claim that suffering is not always the result of one’s personal sin – something he himself might not have said before his tragic experiences.

But just because Job did not curse, does not mean he was nice and okay with what unfolded in his life. He wished he was never born. He felt like death would be preferable to living. He contended with God, and longed for justice. His ultimate wish was that God would just speak and say something, anything.

Job was hurting so terribly, that he had bitter words of despair for God. He could make absolutely no sense of what was happening. He could not understand why he was the brunt of so much suffering. It felt like God was attacking him, and he said so.

The silence and absence of God were palpable for Job. He longed to speak with God. And his greatest lament – out of all the reasons to lament – was the horrible feeling of being alone without God’s presence and consolation.

It is interesting that we have no mention in the story about Job’s friends speaking directly to God, or praying to God, or addressing God in any way.

They certainly felt free to tell Job who God is, and how God operates in the world. But there was never any intercession for their friend, and no words of crying out to God on behalf of Job. There was only words of rebuke and chastisement, words of hurt that were as painful as the physical sores on his body

The phrase I hear most often from people speaking to the person in grief and pain is, “You just need to be strong.” And a close second is, “Everything happens for a reason.” The latter phrase is simply unhelpful, and the former phrase is actually hurtful.

It is not a sin to be weak. Just in case you read that sentence too quickly, I will say it again: It. Is. Not. A. Sin. To. Be. Weak!

We understand that when someone breaks a bone, they’ll be limited with weakness for a while. And we make helpful accommodations to that effect. But when someone’s heart is broken, and their life emotionally shredded, we expect them to be strong for everyone else around them.

It may be true that everything happens for a reason, yet most of the time, none of us knows the reason why we’re going through what we’re going through. And we probably won’t, this side of heaven.

If we try to have explanations for everything, then we join the company of Job’s companions who had to try and understand what was happening. And their conclusions were very wrong.

However, there is nothing wrong with weeping with those who weep; and expressing pain, grief, and even anger – both for the one who laments, and those who lament with them.

Pain cannot be relieved unless it is acknowledged, affirmed, and addressed by both the one who suffers and the community who surrounds them.

Where there is lament, there are loud words and expressions of grief. When lament is said to God, then God can hold that person, and rock them in the arms of mercy.

But silence is agonizing. We need friends who will listen and grieve with us. It is vital to have companions who voice to God what we cannot voice in our weakness. All of us, together, must hold onto God, and trust that the Lord hears, and will answer.

As Jesus cried out on the cross, I cry out to you in pain, O God my Creator. Do not forsake me. Grant me relief from this suffering and preserve me in peace; through Jesus Christ my Savior, in the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Making Sense of Faith and Trouble? (Job 15:1-35)

Job with his friends, by Gerard Seghers (1591-1651)

Then Eliphaz the Temanite replied:

“Would a wise person answer with empty notions
    or fill their belly with the hot east wind?
Would they argue with useless words,
    with speeches that have no value?
But you even undermine piety
    and hinder devotion to God.
Your sin prompts your mouth;
    you adopt the tongue of the crafty.
Your own mouth condemns you, not mine;
    your own lips testify against you.

“Are you the first man ever born?
    Were you brought forth before the hills?
Do you listen in on God’s council?
    Do you have a monopoly on wisdom?
What do you know that we do not know?
    What insights do you have that we do not have?
The gray-haired and the aged are on our side,
    men even older than your father.
Are God’s consolations not enough for you,
    words spoken gently to you?
Why has your heart carried you away,
    and why do your eyes flash,
so that you vent your rage against God
    and pour out such words from your mouth?

“What are mortals, that they could be pure,
    or those born of woman, that they could be righteous?
If God places no trust in his holy ones,
    if even the heavens are not pure in his eyes,
how much less mortals, who are vile and corrupt,
    who drink up evil like water!

“Listen to me and I will explain to you;
    let me tell you what I have seen,
what the wise have declared,
    hiding nothing received from their ancestors
(to whom alone the land was given
    when no foreigners moved among them):
All his days the wicked man suffers torment,
    the ruthless man through all the years stored up for him.
Terrifying sounds fill his ears;
    when all seems well, marauders attack him.
He despairs of escaping the realm of darkness;
    he is marked for the sword.
He wanders about for food like a vulture;
    he knows the day of darkness is at hand.
Distress and anguish fill him with terror;
    troubles overwhelm him, like a king poised to attack,
because he shakes his fist at God
    and vaunts himself against the Almighty,
defiantly charging against him
    with a thick, strong shield.

“Though his face is covered with fat
    and his waist bulges with flesh,
he will inhabit ruined towns
    and houses where no one lives,
    houses crumbling to rubble.
He will no longer be rich and his wealth will not endure,
    nor will his possessions spread over the land.
He will not escape the darkness;
    a flame will wither his shoots,
    and the breath of God’s mouth will carry him away.
Let him not deceive himself by trusting what is worthless,
    for he will get nothing in return.
Before his time he will wither,
    and his branches will not flourish.
He will be like a vine stripped of its unripe grapes,
    like an olive tree shedding its blossoms.
For the company of the godless will be barren,
    and fire will consume the tents of those who love bribes.
They conceive trouble and give birth to evil;
    their womb fashions deceit.” (New International Version)

The biblical character of Job had asked the friends to hear him out on his case against God. But they did not stay quiet and listen. Instead, they got irritated with Job and accused him of sin.

One of the three friends, Eliphaz, went from exhortation to an outright rebuke of Job. He took him to task on what he was saying, and gave Job a hellfire sermon designed to get him right with God.

Eliphaz had a problem with Job’s approach to God. Yet, we as readers know that none of this suffering was Job’s fault. In reality, it was Eliphaz who had the problem: He was stuck in a particular way of thinking to the point of not being able to entertain another’s point of view.

Each of the three friends did not distinguish between their assumptions and the truth. They had such engrained habits of thinking and living, that their minds were not open to the experience of Job being anything but sinful.

The major presupposition that Eliphaz held is that anyone who experiences such extreme hardship and suffering as Job is being punished by God. And that was a false presupposition.

There is a tragic irony with the story of Job and his friends. Eliphaz assessed Job’s situation and words as wicked. What’s more, Eliphaz believed that Job added to that sin by contending with God and insisting on his own personal innocence.

Yet, what Eliphaz said about Job was actually true about himself. Eliphaz was the one speaking out of ignorance and pride, as if he knew how the universe really works. In truth, Eliphaz was talking about himself, without knowing it.

Eliphaz presupposed, assumed, and believed that wicked persons are the ones who experience a life of pain, terror, illness, and deprivation. Thus, Job is wicked. And therefore, believed Eliphaz, Job’s future destiny was in jeopardy.

Is crying out in pain and giving a vulnerable yell toward God sin? Is it a sign of wickedness? Will it lead one to hell?

In the view of Eliphaz, yes. Because to challenge God is to rebel against God. To experience extreme suffering is a sign of personal wickedness against God.

By taking a good hard look at the entirety of the Book of Job, I can say with confidence that Eliphaz was, at best, ignorant; and, at worst, hurtful. He had no idea how off target he really was. The sinner in the room was not Job; it was Eliphaz.

The friends had too simple and easy of a theology of suffering. They equated Job’s suffering with God’s punishment. Reading the story of Job, however, challenges that simplistic theology.

Job insisted that his supposed punishment was undeserved. And he was right. Terrible misfortune is not necessarily a result of personal sin or wickedness.

The piety of Job was strong enough to accept the misfortune that fell upon him, without rebelling against God (Job 1:10). Yet, Job’s faithfulness to God could not make sense between his agonizing suffering, the loss of property and family, and God’s silence and purpose in it all.

And maybe that is, in part, the point of the Book of Job – that there are people all over the world who undergo hard circumstances and grinding loss, without knowing why they are going through it.

Hopefully, this awakening to the suffering of others will kindle within us a more compassionate spirit and empathetic presence with those feeling the nonsensical situations of their lives.

Almighty God, I bring to you all those who suffer in body, mind, spirit or with grief. May your loving kindness and divine presence sustain them in the midst of their pain. May those who are stretched beyond their capacity to cope and remain hopeful gain a sense of coherence, comfort and strength in the Lord. Amen.