Being mentally ill means not only having a broken mind, but, also, a broken heart. God promises that we don’t get more than we can handle. I beg to ask the question, does that mean I am incredibly resilient and brave? Or, rather, is God actually real? I don’t believe in a perfect creator who would lie. So, better that s/he not exist than to exist and deceive.
It is difficult, this lifetime, and often too long to endure without complaining. The question is, can we dwell in this cesspool of all manner of human evil, and still believe in the unconditional embrace of God? Or do we become what the Potter predestined in His or Her Divine kiln to be: broken pots, marred and useless? Can we not then argue with the Potter? I’m not seeking a biblical answer, but a compassionate one–one that is genuinely from the heart. That is the one thing we mentally ill have left in our lives that hasn’t been defaced or destroyed. If anything, authenticity is something we mentally ill possess in spades.
There are many theories as to why some of us are overburdened while others merely suffer from affluenza. Many religious leaders and politicians aspire to only suffer from affluenza. I will not enter into the immortal records how some have done serious damage, not just to me, but to many who are targeted. After all, every institution, in order to survive, must have a common enemy and a common scapegoat. And when the Zeitgeist begins to find Satan tiresome, the abnormal-looking ones in the congregation will do.
Such discernment has me asking whether or not I deserve to exist. What on earth and in Heaven’s name is God keeping me alive for? And, in the end, who really cares whether or not I do?
I plead with you, if you have a mentally ill person in your circle of acquaintances, pray for him/her. I say “pray” because I know it is fruitless to ask you to befriend them. But say a prayer for whomever that person is, because you may save a life, today.~V
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