Finding Ourselves in Tumultuous Times

What can we learn about ourselves in times of deep frustration or change?

I’ve been thinking a lot about what happens to a person when large swathes of their normalcy are taken away—such as in this pandemic. 

People tend to eventually feel agitated and the inclination, I think, is for them to simply summarize by saying “This time is really tough.” While that’s, in-and-of-itself, not necessarily wrong, I think there’s often something deeper, more beautiful happening.

It makes me think of when one of my dear friends and her husband (also a dear friend) moved to another country a few years ago. Her normalcy was turned on its head and, after a brief intermission of delight, life became quite a struggle for a couple years. Identity questions. Silent frustrations. Unpredictable irritations. Infrequent displays of empathy. Things were getting “worse.” 

What was going on? 

To understand her situation and ours, it helps to understand what hurts are and how we protect them. 

Things happen in our lives that convey negative “truths” that our divine nature knows are actually lies...yet we believe them. 

“I’m an irritation.” “I’m good at nothing.” “I’m worth nothing.” “Nobody will love me.” Etc. 

Terrified they’re true and our pain will be exposed, we then hide those shameful, scary lies, as if in a treasure chest within a castle. That chest is then locked and squirreled away within the innermost royal chamber, that’s guarded within a keep, then protected by a few layers of walls, and kept at a safe distance by a moat. Those protections, in real life, are our coping mechanisms (like staying busy, being good at something. or remembering history differently than it occurred) which attempt to overcome those false “truths” by our merit or keeping our mind occupied so we don’t feel their sting so sharply. Either way, they make it harder to hear those voices in our heads. 

Healing comes from getting in there and exposing those lies to the light of day, with proper adherence to truth (at the core of which, I believe, is in being created by a loving God to enact his kindness in the world )—which causes those lies to die. 

But we have to actually get in there. To do so, we need to assault our own castle, which is not easy. Cross a moat, scale a couple walls, break into the keep, make it to the inner chamber, and crack the lock on that chest. 

It is a prototypical inner conflict, as part of us tries to grow and another part fights back covertly. 

Times like the pandemic quarantine, or moving to a new place, slow us down and remove some distractions, making those voices more resonant.

The effect? It’s like getting rid of the moat and the first set of walls. It means, by ripping ourselves out of the previous environment and putting us in the new one, we’re actually nearer to truly dealing with our issue(s), exposing the lie(s) (no matter how ‘small’) and stepping more into who we truly are. The problem? Exposing whatever’s in that chest can feel like death. Real death. And that can be a scary thing for anyone.

So when some barriers abruptly disappear and we feel closer to that death, we naturally fight back against the invading army with more ferocity—which shows itself in our lives as new frustrations, volatile emotions, unhealthy habits, and the like. This can give the perspective that things have gotten worse or that we’re doing “bad.” And in a sense, that may be quite true, but in another, deeper sense, we may actually be closer to healing than we’ve yet been. 

In the case of my friend, she realized this and finally accepted the challenge to assault that castle—regularly seeking counseling, with a supportive community on hand, as she wrestled with the things she was feeling. And by damn, with time, she’s made it to the center, exposed some lies, and is far stronger than she’s ever been—which is a beautiful thing to behold. 

During this pandemic, when there’s more space to think and we can easily feel unsettled or off balance, let’s consider leaning into our feelings to learn and grow—using the time as a gift, an opportunity. Hire a counselor, journal with intention, read, process, consider the past strategically. Make no mistake, it’ll likely feel like death, but the results can be so beneficial—us becoming more ourselves. 

But even if, for whatever reason, we don’t undertake that right now, I suggest trusting God with our struggles and giving ourselves the grace to know that we may not be getting “worse,” just closer to exposing lies and thus closer to truth and the freedom that comes with it. And that itself is worth celebrating.