Living in the Wild

7 Mar

I realize that my previous post seems pretty dire and hopeless.  Sadly that’s because I’m living in a dire and hopeless place right now.

Where is your faith, you ask?  Have HOPE, you say.

And I hear you.  But I’m hearing you from the wilderness.  A place of wild.

Have you ever looked up the word “wild” in the dictionary?

Dictionary.com gives us all kinds of descriptions: unrestrained, fury, intensity, violent, furious

Merriam-Webster goes much further:

 a (1) : not subject to restraint or regulation : uncontrolledalso : unruly (2) : emotionally overcome ;also : passionately eager or enthusiastic

b : marked by turbulent agitation

c : going beyond normal or conventional bounds : fantasticalso : sensational

d : indicative of strong passion, desire, or emotion

Pick any of those definitions and you’ve got my child, and thus, my life.  Because you know what? Living with the wild means living in the wilderness.

Think about that word, wilderness, and all that it means:  quiet, pathless, directionless, dark, scary, and yes, wild.

I believe that God made the wilderness, and He will see us through it.  But right now, for reasons I can’t begin to understand, He is quiet.  There aren’t miracles, or answers to my prayers for mercy.  There are no maps, no directions, no street lights.  There’s just quiet.  And the teeny-tiniest bit of knowledge rooted in the faith of my childhood that He will eventually get us out of this immensely painful place.  But for the last ten years of her thirteen on this earth, it has been utterly, bitterly quiet.

Perhaps if I was a naturally quiet person that would be an easier pill to swallow.  But those of you who know me personally know that I am ANYTHING but quiet.  Which makes this journey all the more foreign to me.  Silence is deafening, they say.  And it’s true.  It’s been so long I’ve almost forgotten what it would feel like to hear an answer to prayer.

All this to say, please forgive my brutal honesty, my lack of acceptable confessions, and my seeming faithlessness.

I am living with a wild one, in the wilderness.

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4 Responses to “Living in the Wild”

  1. Shavonne Conroy March 7, 2012 at 9:27 pm #

    Oh, Katy. My heart aches for you. A wise grandmother once told me, we are only as happy as our unhappiest child. After ten years it must surely seem hopeless.

    There just MUST be one among our very savvy group of friends who might have answers for this! A neurologist? Have you run all the tests to see if anything is really physical? A Cognitive-Behavior therapist to shake the terrible habits she has??

    I’m sure you feel like givng up in your wilderness. I’m so very sorry baby. xoxo

  2. Paula K March 7, 2012 at 10:29 pm #

    I am a naturally quiet person. It is not easier, not hearing an answer.

    My child does not have the same issues that yours does. My wilderness is not the same. But it has been about 10 years long. And for a while today, I felt like a complete failure to my child. And I completely gave up on God ever coming through for me, to lead me out of here. So, I hear you. I understand. I am sorry.

    Someone told me that she is praying Psalm 123 for me. Verse 2b-3 says “so our eyes look to the LORD our God, until he shows us his mercy. Have mercy on us, LORD, have mercy on us, for we have endured no end of contempt.”

    I am holding on (barely) to that “until”- a promise that it will someday come. I plead with the sky for mercy and an end to contempt. I will ask the same for you.

  3. Karen Mitchell March 7, 2012 at 10:32 pm #

    You may feel alone in your wilderness, but you aren’t alone. The Lord is with you and so are your friends…we are here to be God with skin on! Your sweet family will be in my prayers! Love you.

  4. Tracey March 8, 2012 at 10:15 am #

    Hugs and prayers. That’s all I can offer. And validation that what you feel is real and painful. Not faithlessness. Just crying out for God and not hearing an answer.

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