Quite the title right? It’s also the simplest summary of this blog. I’m going to talk about something that’s new and real for me. I don’t have the complete answers and the story isn’t finished yet but I feel called to share this for those who have been (or currently are) in similar circumstances.
Though I loved my time in Romania, I spent a lot of it wrestling the echos of past habits. The key skill of balancing your mental health is something that everyone has to learn for themselves. Some days you fail and others you succeed, but it is a constant tug of war. After many years of failing, I was able to figure out a great deal about my depression and how to give myself enough grace to have a bad day but to also not let it stop me from enjoying tomorrow.
During our quarantine, something changed in my depression that I couldn’t understand. I would have a fun day filled with laughter, prayer and games but whenever night fell so would I. My room would get ready for bed, turn the lights off, say goodnight and then I would feel something creeping into my chest. Normally when I experience depression I would want to dissolve and sleep, this was different, I was so sad that it kept me wide awake. No matter what I tried, night after night I was continuously conscious for the time when a familiar voice would creep in, armoured with gentle whispers that gnawed away at the structure of my identity.
I’m not one to share my emotions, especially if they are negative. Vulnerability is hard for me after growing up under the bandaids of “you’re too sensitive,” “stop being dramatic” and “it’s your fault” that people placed over my wounds.
So of course, I don’t bring this up to my team (old habits are hard to break). Fears of bad impressions and past damages were all too convincing in my choice of silence. Eventually, I was able to sleep as I was passed on from room to room but that was because I let the familiar voice speak during the day in exchange for rest at night. By the time we got to Albania, I couldn’t even look at a mirror or think about myself without feeling like my heart was being wrenched out. My identity disgusted me and I wanted to hide it somewhere away from everyone, especially from my blog and the spiritually bright squad I saw every day.
We spent 2 weeks in Dürres for training and debrief. The first few days I filled to the brim with distractions and short delights by the beach to combat the mornings I spent crying in front of my bible. I kept asking God for help and, consequently, not listening for an answer. I prayed for a better connection with Him and feared that He’d give me what I asked for. We ended up having a training session on demons and oppression which I was thrown back by.
I have been a Christian for a long time, though I believe in the spiritual realm, the thought of dealing with angels and demons was overwhelming. I could barely keep my hands on the wheel in my human realm so I chose to be completely hands off when it came to this part of my faith. I didn’t understand it and I didn’t have anyone teach me.
I thought it was interesting and I decided it was time to try growing in my understanding. I sat down with the Lord and asked Him to show me if there are any demons of oppression living in me. I was met with this gross image of my torso filled with multiple spirals of black tar. Each one had its specific location in my body and some have been resting there for over a decade. It was a weird and scary experience but I felt God telling me “it’s okay! We’re going to work through each of these” with the warmest smile.
During the start of my pursuit in removing these oppressions, I spent time reflecting on the things that have made deep scars and prayed for the holy spirit to lead me. Immediately I heard “why don’t you trust your brothers?” I knew the answer but didn’t want to admit it. I told the Lord that if I had to admit it, I’ll tell someone and that I’ll be vulnerable if he brought a person to me. Do you know that sinking feeling you get in your chest like a deer caught in the headlights? That’s what I felt when my squad-mate Bailee put her hand on my shoulder asking me if I’m ok only 2 seconds after that prayer.
I had been having dreams about some of the men on our squad hurting me in the ways I have been hurt by the men in my past. Some were surreal and weird but others were traumatic and hurtful. I assumed I was projecting my past hurt on them and told Bailee that it’s been damaging how I connect with the guys on our squad. We had a good chat and went back into the room where our squad was having prayer time during a session. I stopped dead in my tracks at the door when one of the courageous men of our squad stood up to ask for forgiveness from God and the women in our group. He began a domino-effect through the guys and I was astonished as each one of the men that stood up were the exact ones who I had dreamt about.
I immediately felt one of those black spirals dissolve away and tears fell all over my face. We had a beautiful moment as a squad where the women prayed over the men and the men prayed over the women. At the end of it I felt the Lord speak to me and I almost didn’t share it with the group. It kept lingering at the tip of my tongue so I finally opened my mouth and said “I think we need to wash each other’s feet.” I was shocked by the enthusiasm, hearing others share that they felt the same thing. We all got changed and went to the beach to wash each other’s feet. It was a touching experience and I had the honor of having my first close friend that I made in our squad ask to wash my feet.
This developed into a time of baptisms unlike anything I have ever experienced. We were taught about “being slayed in the spirit” and what it meant to be renewed in the Holy Spirit in this way. We also covered what’s it’s like to “be drunk on the holy spirit” like how it is described in Acts 2-3. I found the lesson foreboding. We got into the sea and began praying for each other and baptizing those who felt called. As the baptisms kept going, I decided to flow to the back of the group and pray as background support. Obviously, there is nowhere I can truly hide from God so He sent the faithful April to my side to pray for me. To my surprise, her words fought against the familiar voice that had been haunting me for weeks.
Before I knew it, I was in tears and surrounded by the women of our squad who joined in praying over me. I was filled and overflowed in the holy spirit more so than I had ever experienced. The following 3 hours of baptisms are a sparkling blur. I remember weeping, laughing, smiling, being in the center praying over my squadmates, singing songs of praise and so much love everywhere. The waves were crazy the spirit was crazy and I had the most restful sleep so far on the Race that night.
The next morning when I looked at my reflection I almost didn’t recognize what I saw. The gross feeling I had in my chest when I saw myself was gone and there was an empty space where a very old black spiral once stood. During our session about demon oppressions we were told that they can only go as far as we let them, that they have no authority or control over us as followers of Christ. It was interesting to realize that this is what I experienced. Instead of casting out this voice I bargained with it and diminished myself in its presence. This was something that I had allowed authority over me since I was young. It’s voice became a familiar everyday calling to me to the point that its’ whispers hurt more than screams. It is still there hoping for a new chance to come back in— but now I can recognize it easily and cast it out.
This is a whole new area of faith for me. I am grateful for this experience and for what the Lord will continue to teach me. There are more oppressions within me to be cast out and I look forward to each one. I will have many failures and many successes during this trip but I pray for the ability to welcome them all with open arms.
May my experience be something that can be used to speak into the lives of others.
