February 22nd

February 22nd
Inviting you in, Jesus – into the FebEx things, into making bread early this morning, and into painting tiny cabbages and cauliflowers onto a game tile…

I lost the ability to feel joy, to know joy, in the PND years. Lost it so thoroughly that I thought you took no joy in me at all. And then it came back a little – I could take joy in other people’s joy, be genuinely delighted for them when something worked out well, rejoice with those who rejoiced.

But did you rejoice over me?

The huge message was: “You are getting it wrong. You are failing.”
And I know, I know – it was attack; that’s what depression does to you; you can’t hear God clearly when you are depressed. But I didn’t know that, back then.
And if I was failing, then you wouldn’t rejoice over me, or with me in anything. That’s straight from my earthly father: unless you’re a success (which means being first in everything, all the time) then I’m not interested in you. In fact, I’m disappointed in you.
I ended up believing that you didn’t want to share in the joyous, the fun, the silly, the that-tickled-my-sense-of-humour with me anymore. This is – possibly – why it’s so hard to invite you in.

Maybe I should start believing that you want to join in, want to come in?

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