Why, Fact or Fiction?

Being in the ER would turn out to be more of an adventure than I had anticipated. However, the Lord was kind in preparing me for the adventure He would take me on. Before I found myself looking at the brink of the unknown, He had first taught me the power of my emotions. It turns out emotions are a powerful force. They can either dig in like a two-year-old unwilling to move from the candy aisle, or they can propel that mountain climber to leap the last unpassable chasm to find the summit. To harness my emotions, I had to both understand their source and decide their validity.

I have always been a deep “feeler”. Growing up, I was quite prone to crying. If I had been a character on "Inside Out", I would have been Sadness for sure. It was as if my emotional energy bar hit 100%, I just needed a good cry. Whatever I was feeling seeped out of me, and I was ready to run again. I remember once at dinner, staring into a plate of peas, feeling suddenly overwhelmed, and I began to cry. I walked over to my mother, laid my head on her shoulder, and hit that reset button. My mother, a feeler herself, patted my back and let me have my moment. My dad immediately asked, "What is wrong with her!?" and my mother shrugged. Nothing. Nothing is wrong. She just needs to cry.

I don't know if that was the moment my father realized I was an overly emotional child, but I do know that he asked me "why" a lot in the years to come. When I found my emotions starting to climb, he would ask, "Why are you feeling that?" To which I would shrug, choking on my overwhelming sadness. This was, of course, an unacceptable answer, and he would push in again, wondering what was the root of my feeling.

So, I started to ask myself “why” with every surge of emotion. And I began to untangle the emotional spaghetti that was my mind. These emotions are sadness. Why? I feel alone. Why? Because my friends did not respond as I had wanted to my invitation. Why does that bother me? I fear no one will love me. I will be alone forever. I am mad. Why? Because I didn't get the attention I wanted. Why? Because I thought that if I did this thing, I would be praised. Why? Because I want to be seen and valued in this way.

With each “why” I pushed deeper. My surface emotion of embarrassment was layered down into fear of failure. The surface emotion of shyness was a small petal attached to the stem of insecurity that was attached to the belief I was unlovable. Things I had tried didn't produce the result I expected, so silence was safer. Jealousy? Desire for the acceptance and adoration someone else received. Why? Fear there would not be enough acceptance for us both. The small tree of rule-abiding was firmly rooted in the belief that love could be earned. Why? Because praise could be.

When I had headed off to Jackson, TN, I had become an interpreter of my emotions. With each feeling, I could quickly put a finger over the source of each geyser before it sprouted to the surface. Much to my relief, this dramatically decreased my need for public tears. But I had not learned to harness the power of that geyser yet.

My community in Jackson, TN was a very special place for me to spend my first few years post-college. There was a circle of women who loved the Lord so genuinely, mothered tenderly, and also thrived in their hobbies, missions, and homes. They were hosts and activists. They started community resources and housed those in need. Yet, while doing all of this, they inspired so much beauty in our community through painting, decorating, writing, spoken word and music. As we sang together, prayed together, and worked together, I realized how strongly each women felt. Yes, they had feelings. Real feelings. I always remember one woman who often read in church. The way she tenderly wilted her words with sorrow and then lifted her voice in joy made each verse reveal a secret message. These were not just words on a page; they had power to still the crowd and awake the soul. I could tell by the conviction in her voice she not only believed each word she said, but she also felt it with her whole body.

In my shutting down of geysers, I had developed a way to still and rule my emotions, putting them quietly in the back corner. Mitigating their constant presence and needing to chime in on everything made me feel strong and in control. Yet here were woman who had embraced their deep emotions, and were not unstable, erratic, impulsive or frozen still in their puddles of sadness. They were peaceful, joyous, and magnetic. They had an ability to make simple things beautiful. And simple beauties set off deep joy for them. They marveled at sunsets in their backyards while I was wondering where the beach was. They rejoiced in the soulful singing of one friend over her guitar while I was looking for the rest of the band. They wept with each other in loss of a pregnancy, uncomfortable transitions, and the changes of life that require adaptation. These women were soft and strong. They so easily accessed their emotion, and it made life delightful, beautiful... yes just FULL. Eager to understand this mystery, I sat across the table from one of the ladies as she unveiled her tool.

"Not all your emotions are based in truth." She said it so calmly and without an ounce of fear. In a culture where telling another person their feelings are unfounded is social suicide, she did not bat an eye. The secret to harnessing the power of my emotions was simple. Only live in the valid ones; acknowledge and correct, don't dwell on the emotions that lack any grounding.

Dear friend, this is uncomfortable, but hear me out. I promise it is not as painful once the first knife has cut. I know it because I still remember the tingling of my face and the way my spine locked into sudden stiffness as she looked at me with complete candor and delivered that fateful news. But after the prickling angst of dislike came a little freedom. My feelings of shame might not be real. My fear of being unloved or unwanted didn’t actually make me so. Now, other feelings – anger over things I found unjust – were not so easily laid aside. But just realizing that some of the feelings I played repeatedly in my mind were just a feeling, felt like dropping a ten-pound weight. I just let it go.

But if not all my feelings are valid, how then would I know what to pay attention to? My feelings had been spinning like a compass that couldn’t point north. My friend introduced me to the "Fact, faith, feeling train" -an illustration written by Bill Bright. Simply put, one must decide what they think is true of the world in principle, then be willing to hold firm to that principle even when circumstances should ignite the feelings of doubt that it is no longer true. I started adding another question to my process: "Fact? or Fiction?"

And so, I had to decide on what fundamental basis would I weigh the validity of my feelings. What would be my north? For me, I chose the Bible, a book packed with powerful wisdom, the words of the Lord who exists outside of my experience. The secret to not just controlling but aligning my emotions was to take its temperature and ask, "fact, or fiction?"

"God, it seems like you have forgotten me. I am alone. No one hears my cry."

 Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27 And which of you by being anxious, can add a single hour to his span of life? 28 And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Matthew 6:24-30:

"God, I feel lost because I don't know what's next in my life. I thought I would be in a different place than this, and things aren't happening the way I thought they should."

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

Jeremiah 29:11

"But God, it doesn't feel like this plan is working."

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.9 For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Isaiah 55:8-9:

"But God, even if your thoughts are bigger, are they better?"

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.

James 1:17

Reorienting my emotions was uncomfortable at first. It required conceding that my own emotions sometimes miss the mark, sometimes misconstrue, and sometimes prioritize things that could be let go.  It also required me turning over control of my thoughts to a God I could not see, sometimes couldn't feel, and sometimes had to wonder if He was listening at all. But the worry of turning over my thoughts to be fleshed out by someone else was far lighter a load than believing I was supposed to have all the answers. Learning that I wasn't in control and that was ok, alleviated a lot of burdens. Instead of letting how I felt move me, I was choosing instead to move based on how I thought. And requesting my emotions join me on the ride.

It turns out this practice is entirely necessary to be successful on the type of adventure I was bound to take. For if in a marathon, the screams of doubt from achy feet were given a pulpit, no finish line would be seen. And if my failed attempts to make a bolognese sauce were sufficient evidence that I should not cook, I would have never found my favorite recipe. These are very simplified moments of disbelief in unfounded emotions. However, what we practice in the daily is where we will end up living the decade.

Reorienting my emotions to submit to facts was like rearranging my solar system to correctly show the earth revolving around the sun. I can live as though my world is the center, and all that I feel is the driving force, and I will have not shifted the trajectory of the sun at all. But when I believe that the sun is the center, and keep my eyes up, I don't even notice the shadows casted behind me. I walk in full confidence. I fear no evil. It doesn't mean that I don't feel deep sorrows, or experience real grief. Sometimes I weigh my feelings and find they are heavy and real. But I know now they don't need to control the path my feet are on. We will walk forward on the path I have decided is truer than my fickle day-to-day heart.

So dear friend, if fear and doubt or worry are overwhelming you today, weed through the dirt and debris. Reach down to the root. Ask yourself what lie am I believing? Then ask the Author and Holder of your faith - what is true? Set your eyes on the Son. Look up, child.