I’m tired. I’m so tired.
I don’t want to get into the details, but tonight I had another one of the many major blows to my life that is throwing my entire existence into a question mark. A big question mark. With neon flashing lights.
And right now, I feel nothing.
Because I’ve reached the point I’m dead inside.
I became a Christian when I was 24. For the last 20 years, I’ve believed that God has control of my life and that everything that happens, good or bad, happens with His permission. He brings blessings to me and he allows me to feel the consequences of my sin so that learn from it and become more like His Son. So when I had my porn addiction and I let it ruin large parts of my life, I knew it was my sin but that God allowed the circumstances to happen to bring it to light so it could be ended and I could restore from it. I never ascribe evil to God, but in knowing that God has control of all things, nothing can happen without his permission.
Even when Satan does something to try us. And God allows trials. That’s in the Bible.
And we face being in a fallen world. And that means we can feel the impacts of actions of others that we may never know about until the situation hits us.
In my life, I’ve had more than my fair share of these situations. And I’m not saying that as a pity party…I had someone on Facebook post a few weeks ago that I was a guy “from college who has gone through more things than [this person] could have ever gone through and still be standing.”
There was a time I wore that as a badge of honor.
Now, I just see myself covered in scars.
And I’m tired.
I’m to the point that I feel completely dead inside.
(Now, before I go further, this is not a suicide post nor am I considering suicide. I have two little boys that I never want to have them wonder why their dad didn’t love them enough to stay here. But I am at the point that I know why some people do it. I can really see it now. I can taste it. I understand it in ways that I never have understood in the past even when as a teen I thought I was ready to do it. But I repeat…I am NOT considering suicide.)
I feel dead inside. I’ve felt this way for well over a month. That I really don’t make much of a difference in people’s lives, that if I suddenly disappeared in a freak blimp accident there would be no real concern beyond my parents and two little guys and that hope is now gone. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel and that dawn is not about to break.
The biggest alarm bell went off last weekend. I realized that nothing makes me feel happy other than spending time with my sons. All things I used to do that made me feel happy now make me feel absolutely nothing.
I play drums, I feel nothing.
I play video games, I feel nothing.
I pet the cat, I get scratches on my skin and I feel nothing.
And then last weekend happened. I had a Saturday with nothing on the board and no kids. In the past, that would make me happy because it meant unplanned road trip. Get in the car, drive and see what I can find. A state park? A cool little restaurant? It was exploring and I loved it.
I had to force myself to go Saturday. And I felt…nothing at all.
I sat at a new state park I’d stumbled across and watched the water, listened to the birds and the waves, soaked in the sun.
And felt nothing.
No peace. No excitement. No sunburn until later.
Even the music I would blast from the radio left me empty.
Now, this is the point where you say “well, you need to turn to Jesus because He will fill you up!”
This is where all the Christian cliches and t-shirts and coffee mugs and self-help books and comments I need to find whatever sin is blocking God and correct it.
Jesus is not filling me up.
God is leaving me empty.
And I’m tired. And I’m done. And I have nothing more to give.
I study Scripture every single day. I pray throughout the day. I’ve been seeking. Having quiet time. Trying to engage at church.
I’ve felt for years that God was going to put me in a place where I’d be speaking and traveling and telling people about His son. And make no mistake, even though I feel as dead as a doorknob, I still know Jesus is the only way to eternal life and there is no other way. Even though I feel like my body just hasn’t realized it’s time to go it doesn’t mean I will stop professing Christ as Lord.
But now, I wonder if I heard Him wrong. That if these gifts of communication that He’s given to me were never to be used to proclaim Him to others.
Sure, “prophets” have told me that I heard God right and that it’s a case of “you’re not ready yet.” These are the same “prophets” that told me I was turning a corner, or that things were going to become great or that it was finally time for me to see the blessings God can pour upon his people.
And I know at this moment, I mean nothing to pretty much everyone.
On Monday, I said I was taking time off Facebook and that if anyone wanted me to e-mail me.
Not a single “hey, is something up?”
It’s because deep down, no one really cares enough to make that a priority. The sending of an e-mail to see how someone is doing.
I would do that daily.
I would pray for people, check on them, encourage them. I would do my best to pour into others the very thing that no one was pouring into me because I knew that in today’s world people don’t pour blessings and joy and goodness and encouragement and praise into each other.
And the time I needed it most, and made a desperate action, no one blinked.
I know many are busy. I get it. We all have lives. But it told me that in the end, I really don’t matter much to anyone other than mom & dad, the boys and the boss at one of the two jobs I had been working, Russ.
I’ve felt lonely for quite a while. I went on dating sites but now I’m off of them. It’s not that I don’t want a wife, because I really do want one. Badly. It’s just right now, I feel nothing at all. I realize I don’t really have anything to give to someone else. I’m drier than a California creek.
And just like those California hills, the rain from heaven isn’t coming. No matter how much I pray. Or have quiet time. Or study Scripture. The God who is only a heartbeat away might as well be a million miles away for the silence, darkness and hopelessness that comes when I turn to seek Him.
I’m just so tired.
I’m so thankful the boys are here tonight when I had the latest blow that could possibly wipe out this apartment I’m in, all the “home” I’ve tried to build. The feeling that Memphis is where God called me to be and now it’s in limbo if I can stay here. It’s the early stages of limbo, but it could accelerate quickly. Or the solution could come tomorrow. It’s very up in the air, but it’s an up in the air that came in an area that I didn’t think was going to be in that place.
And it seems to happen every six months or so as I’ve mentioned in the past. Just when I think I can stand back up from the last blow, that God’s opening doors and blessings and that I might finally be able to make a home and feel good about things, I get another kick in the groin that knocks me right back down.
And right now, I don’t know if I can get back up.
I’m dead inside.
I’ve given all I have to give. I’ve tried to knock on every door in front of me and had no response. I’ve gone through the church hoops and found myself still a congregation of one in a gymnasium of hundreds. I’ve cried and cried and cried (take my man card, I don’t care) and have gotten nothing more than damp berber.
I have no hope.
My hope, Jesus, just isn’t talking or even making Himself known.
I feel alone, dead and I’m tired.
And like I said before, no, I’m NOT thinking about suicide. I will NEVER do that. But right now, I completely understand why someone would do it. I just get it.
So where do I go from here? I don’t know. Right now, I get up, I work, I go to bed. I walk around the apartment complex to try and lose weight. I feel nothing at all. No joy. No pain other than a literal pain in my butt from walking. (Can you pull a gluteus maximus? Feels that way.)
It’s disconcerting to pray and study the Word and seek God and get nothing.
And to know that the world, which is just waiting for me to jump on and go for the ride of all the things it has to offer, is not an option because their way leads to eternal death. At least when I finally die, I’ll have eternal life with Jesus. I know I won’t feel empty then…15, 20, 25 years or so from now.
It’s just right now feeling like there is no reason for my next breath.
And I’m tired out reaching out, pouring out and “getting involved” just so I’m around other people.
And what gets to me is that God has allowed me to be in this situation where I see no hope, no joy, no dawn…and He’s not saying why I’m here or if He’s going to pull me out of it.
And I know that basically, I can count on my fingers with some left over the number of people who might actually be concerned enough to change their day. And two of them are too young to really do anything…and also too young for me to tell them what’s going on. As far as they know, dad’s just dad.
But I fear Sunday night.
And I fear Monday.
I hate feeling so dead inside.
But this is where I am.
And I don’t see resurrection coming.