I Don't Know What to Do, But My Eyes Are On You (Oh God, Where Are You Now? [In Pickerel Lake? Pigeon? Marquette? Mackinaw? North Judson?])

As something of a disclaimer, I should mention that I'm about to be honest about my life

One of the saddest parts of our western culture is our societal inability to be vulnerably honest, especially on the internet. If anything, social media is to be the place where everyone sees only your good side, right? You only post photos of you having fun or doing something you want everyone else to see you doing. Myself included! I have yet to post a photo of my acne, or videos of my fights with Allie, or a status update of my horrible thoughts. I mean, it makes sense. One of the most basic human needs is to be loved, but unfortunately Facebook has turned that into being "liked," or even tolerated! Real love is so different, and I certainly don't know what it looks like completely, but I have decided that a good start is to be honest. And 90% of the time, being honest means being vulnerable no matter the consequence. If I'm being honest for a desired reaction, I'm not really being honest, am I? Real honesty and vulnerability means letting people see the gross and undesirable parts of us, so they can know that they don't have to do this alone. I'm not alone. We're not alone. You're not alone.

I was a happy kid. In college, I had a thousand friends because I was just so darn happy all of the time. That's why I never saw it coming. It really started as soon as I graduated, but it was about a year later before it fully took over. I thought it was a food allergy. I cut out gluten, sugar, dairy, even even coffee. Sometimes, it seemed to work for a day or two but then it would come back like a hurricane. I called it "The Great Weariness," then "The Terrible Sadness," although words never really worked for relaying how I felt. By themselves, words never do. I finally landed on the only word that seemed to fit. I knew others who struggled with a similar "condition" who would use this word, but it was so hard for me to admit. It was almost as if I had been in denial and the word itself brought the acceptance of the thing which I so hated and feared.

It comes and goes in tidal waves, but a few weeks ago, in one of the lowest times of my entire life (without any circumstantial rational, mind you), I barely made it from my bed to the computer to attempt a description. The following was written in that time:

Depression is aptly named.

What shall we call the feeling of an unimaginable weight that is lurking at every turn to crush us into something that is hardly recognizable? A smooth matrix of sand interrupted by an incredible object, leaving only the impression of the weight in what was before. Smoothness gone, left only with a depression.

It's like a sickness. A tumor in my body. I can even feel it as such. A sharp pain that nearly brings me to my knees yet with a dullness that leaves me with no feeling at all. A centralized physiological location of pain... sort of behind my stomach, but much deeper in my body. Even temporary moments of pleasure are impossible to bear for the knowledge that it won't last. It's as if the darkness in itself is burning it's way to all the lit parts of my body to devour each source.

And yet, the worst part is that God is somehow good. This world is somehow beautiful, but all i know is unimaginable pain. In these moments, the only thing that even comes close is poetry. Only songs can somehow capture what I "feel." Beauty is in the pain, but even that is a maddening concept solely for art.

"Oh God, where are you now? Oh Lord, say somehow"

You're all i have, but why does it feel like i have nothing? I'm imploding.

"The devil is hard on my face again. The world is a hundred to one again."

These psalms of sickness speak to God's heart. I know He wants me, I know He wants to rescue me, sometimes this world just feels like ....

"Oh God, hold me now. Oh God, touch me now."


The thing is... I know many can relate. I think the enemy's primary goal in his use of depression is to make us feel like we're completely alone. I think there's power in knowing that he's a liar.

So, then in my darkness I got up from my desk and and God gave me Psalm 42:

As a deer pants for flowing streams,

so pants my soul for you, O God.

2  My soul thirsts for God,

for the living God.

When shall I come and appear before God?

3  My tears have been my food

day and night,

while they say to me all the day long,

“Where is your God?”

4  These things I remember,

as I pour out my soul:

how I would go with the throng

and lead them in procession to the house of God

with glad shouts and songs of praise,

a multitude keeping festival.

5  Why are you cast down, O my soul,

and why are you in turmoil within me?

Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,

my salvation 6 and my God.

David is not singing a cute little woodland melody, this is a tear-stained dirge of raw agony! In my darkest, God saw what I felt and wrote, then immediately gave me that to read. David sat at his desk 3,000 years before I did and poured out his soul in the same way, and God heard Him. God heard me. He was there the whole time, with tears in His eyes, longing for us to see Him through our pain.

I'm not alone. David was not alone. That little psalm of vulnerability made it to our cannon of scripture for a specific purpose. When we accept reality, each moment calls us to answer the most important question that is ever asked: "Is God real, or isn't He?" Because if He's real, then He's real in the pain. If God is real, then He's really with me when I don't feel like it. For us to shrink God so that He can fit inside our constricting box of emotions and feelings, is to replace Him for a God that does not exist. The God that met me on my living room floor and spoke to me with trumpeted clarity, changing the course of my life, is just as present with me in my suicidal depths of agonizing depression.

I wish that I could offer this post as a neat little wrapped up package. I wish I could share all of this as past tense rather than reality. I can tell you that I will be freed of this. I do know that this is spiritual oppression because the enemy doesn't like what God's doing in North Judson. And I am certain that everything I'm going through is because God wants to use me to bring healing for others also. In the chance that you're reading this and going through something similar, know that you're not alone, and that I'm walking with you.


I know this is long, but let me leave you with an amazing story from 2 Chronicles 20. King Jo finds out a massive army is coming to destroy him and his country, so he cried out to the Lord. He says "Oh Lord, I do not know what to do, but my eyes are on You." God answers him and says to go to battle praising him. King Jo and all of Judah go weaponless to battle against an army 3 times their size. They get there and start singing praise and thanksgiving, and the ambush waiting for them mistakes their own army as the enemy. All of the enemies of Judah fight each other until every single man is killed, and not one Jew is touched.

This is a battle, but as Bob Dylan wrote, we fight this battle with God on our side.

we're not alone.

-Trey

We Made a Folk Album, and Jesus is Awesome

Well, as is customary with any of the blogs I've attempted in my life, there will be seasons of inactivity due to the standard excuses of general busyness followed by an obligatory apology to the reader for my inability to regularly continue that which I started. Today there will not be the apology, for I am learning more and more the importance of simply spending my time exactly where the Father wants me to spend it, and although this is certainly done imperfectly, I have also learned not to mourn the things not done (especially be it through obligation).

In our last post, I posed some questions that had been my musings for some time on beauty, art, culture, and coffee, of which I'd love to explore some more, but first I have to tell a story...

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If you were unable to read one of my previous posts entitled "Why We're Making a Folk Album," then that might serve as a proper prequel to this story. I might title this story: "We Made a Folk Album, and Jesus is Awesome." (except that title might give away too much of the plot line... it's a working title for now)

I'm in a folk band and we're called Commoner. It consists of my sister, my two friends, myself, and sometimes a couple other people. We started making music this past Spring at Nate and Mary's house on State street. Out of the blue, Jesus gave me the ability to write folk songs and over the course of about a month we had more than enough for a full album. Shortly after that, I ran into a studio producer in Mississippi who encouraged me to come by the studio and talk about recording. It seemed like a wonderful idea, but the price was a bit out of our budget.. fortunately there's this great thing called Kickstarter. Kickstarter is a website that allows creative projects to be funded online by several different people. Instead of one or a few people giving a lot, it's a lot of people giving a little (although, I've seen more generosity through the funding of this project than i've seen in quite some time).

So we made a snappy little video, put a bunch of graphics together, and recorded a few of our songs in a friends bedroom to get our Kickstarter page set up. It was one of the most amazing experiences I've ever had. To see our close friends and family giving generously, but also to see people I haven't spoken to in years give their hard earned money for our little folk songs was humbling at best! The first day, we raised over 10% of our goal, and I could hardly believe it! I mean, these were high school and college students, and people on missionary support, and families who I knew were struggling financially, and they were giving crazy amounts of money! But it's not like this was an impersonal donation to the salvation army... this was someone literally showing us that they saw the work of God in our lives, that they believed we were listening to His voice, and that they wanted to be a part of it. We didn't ask them to, they didn't have to, they just did! 106 people!!

The first couple of weeks were unbelievable. I would get the little notifications on my phone every time someone would give and it would always make me so happy, no matter the context.. so much so, that it started to control me. I have a bit of an obsessive personality and as the funding deadline drew near, I noticed myself becoming more and more upset about the possibility of us not raising the money. What at first started as an idea held with open hands, became something I tried to control, which in turn started to control me. "Maybe if I do enough on Facebook, or do another video then we'll raise our goal." I was quickly turning my eyes to what I was doing rather than what was being done. And more importantly, I was more interested in raising our money through Kickstarter than than seeking the reality Jesus' life at work in my life in the present. This wasn't a conscious choice of course... I just started to focus my attention way more on the wonderful gifts rather than the glorious Giver. This manifested itself in several long days of menial tasks in an attempt to work this thing into being.

Are you so foolish? After beginning by means of the Spirit, are you now trying to finish by means of the flesh?

This was His idea anyways! He told me to do it, so why did I start to freak out whenever it looked like it wouldn't happen? Because the enemy loves to do whatever he can to get our eyes off of Jesus. Satan knows what works best to get me focused on what I'm doing rather than what He's doing through me. My dad would always say "The thing is not the thing, but the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing" The thing was raising money to make a folk album, but the main thing was following the call of Jesus to the ends of the earth.

But God saves. He always does. And when you're walking with people in community, He'll often use them in the process. My amazing wife and my precious younger sister sat down with me one afternoon, as the exhaustion of working in my own strength was in full swing, and spoke truth into my life. They didn't give me an answer, they didn't tell me what they thought I should do, they just implored me to hear from the Father. They saw this thing start to control me, so they sought freedom for me.

Then God freed me.

Community is so important. Walking with people that know you and see how you spend your time and what consumes your thoughts, is crucial. It's how we were made to live.

But, it's not over!! So God freed me from this imprisonment to my circumstances to the point where I was unattached to whether or not we raised any money at all for our folk album... then He gave it to us anyways! In 1 day, we raised $1,000 which shot us far past what we needed. And!! - We reached our goal on National Coffee Day!! Come on!!! Jesus loves us so much!!

Then we went to Mississippi and made a folk album, but that's another story altogether.



-Trey

ps. the video is a poem I wrote for my church about the importance of community.