It's amazing how God continues to deal with me, even though I am truly unworthy. It's like I have been submerged in dark, murky water for the last year or so, but I became so used to it, and so hopeless that I'd ever be anywhere else, that I began to accept my condition and even forget that I was wet. I only know this now because in the last week, I've finally reached out for Jesus' hand and have surfaced for air. Oh, how liberated and vivacious I feel.

Almost a year ago, my world shattered. I received a call from my mother on a Saturday morning that one of my best friends that I had known since I was nine had died that night as a result of complications from a surgery she had undergone a month before. She was nineteen. I have a really bad denial complex, and though I was shaken that day, it wasn't until the next week that my world began to spiral out of control as the full weight of what it all meant sunk in.

I'm ashamed to say that my entire theology was turned upside down. I started to resent God for letting it happen, and the regrets that I felt, including the encouragement I gave for the surgery, were so heavy on me that I didn't know how to stand up under the weight. My grades dropped, and my relationships suffered. I lost my love of writing, and my love for pretty much everything else, too. Though I didn't realize at the time, I was spiraling down into the jaws of depression.

Slowly, my resentment toward God turned into an apathy. If God didn't care enough about me or her to have stopped it, then I didn't want to care about Him. I became cynical, an observer of worship and an ignorer of sermons. While I was still taking theology classes for my major, I merely learned the facts and skipped the deeper truths. Nothing could penetrate my shell, as I sunk deeper and deeper. Only frequently would I poke my head out, for occasions such as my wedding, but even that was bittersweet, as she was supposed to be a bridesmaid.

The last few months, I knew that I was depressed, that something was wrong. It just didn't seem right that I would be irritable half the time, find no joy in anything, and cry myself to sleep two or three nights a week. But I didn't know what to do about it. My only option was to reconnect with the Prince of Peace Himself, but I was still harboring too much anger and resentment toward Him, so that I'd rather just suffer. I would rather watch my relationships deteriorate, live my life in pain, and wish I hadn't been born, than go back to my Savior. That is the lie of the enemy. And I bought it, believed it, made it my own.

Until recently. For some reason, God has been calling me back to Him lately, and I've actually been able to hear Him and care. I can feel His love in worship services, penetrating and surrounding me. I decided earlier this week to respond to Him, and see if He actually would take me back. That was my first breath of air in a very long time, as I felt Him lift me out of all the filth that I was submerged in. While we still have a long ways to go to repair our relationship, I know that I'm not going back to that mess I was in last week. I've been rescued.

What an awesome Savior we have. He didn't go anywhere; He was there all along, reaching His hand down to pull me out, but I had refused it in my selfishness and pride. I don't pretend that I won't still mourn for a long time. It still hurts. A lot. But I'm not believing the lie anymore. I'm not letting the enemy use this as an excuse to separate me from my Father. Instead, I'm going to hold His hand and learn from it.

I don't know why I'm writing this. Maybe I think it can help someone out there somehow. Maybe others can learn from my mistake and be spared the confusion and misery. In hope of that, listen to me: never, NEVER turn your back on the light. Life without Him is hardly worth living at all. Trust me, I know. : )

So... yesterday was interesting.

I've told this story a lot in the last day, so I'm going to simply give the short version now. Ask if you want more details.

I got on messenger yesterday while I was in the computer lab to write a paper, and noticed that Daniel was logged in MSN. Because I knew he was at home, I figured that he left himself logged into one of the school computers, so I asked the person to log off for him. At first the guy pretended to be him, but when he asked how my weekend was, I knew it was an imposter. I asked him again to log off, but when he didn't, I just ignored him. Right about then, Sarah logged on, and I warned her about the dude. She decided to talk to him and see if she could mess with him a bit.

During their conversation, he started calling her horrible names and saying nasty things about me. I also realized that a guy down the row from me was acting strange, and so working together, Sarah and I determined that he was the one logged in as Daniel. I had told him, before I knew he was faking, that I was in that computer lab, and so when he started saying things about me, Sarah got nervous that he knew who I was and might follow through and called Daniel, who called security before hitching a ride to ORU with a friend.

Daniel and I met in the computer lab, where I showed him the conversation, and pointed the guy out. He mentioned that he was going to meet security, and the guy promptly got up to leave. Before he could, however, Daniel went over to him and calmly asked him his name. (The look on his face when Daniel told him his name in response was hilarious.) I stayed downstairs while Daniel left and came back with an officer.

We searched facebook for the guy's name, and were able to identify him using his profile picture. The security guard  had us fill out our reports, and the tech people started getting the conversations off the computer for evidence. I guess this guy is in major trouble. Just goes to show that you should just do what people ask you to in the first place. It made my day a little more interesting, anyway.

I never got my paper done, though.