It’s a new decade. 2020 is 12 days old yet here I am talking about 2017. 3 good years ago but I never quite seem to forget all that happened in 2017. I can’t. I won’t and I will never forget this particular year. 2017 is the year God sat me down and told me He loves me. I know He still loves me in 2020 but that moment, that day was special. I still remember it like it was yesterday. Before you think this is a trivial matter, let me add some meat to this story.
In 2013 I was diagnosed with a mental illness. Schizophrenia. Medical doctors say there is no cure for this illness and a quick google search of this illness will tell you it is a severe mental disorder. In fact, the most severe of them all. I digress. Upon diagnosis I was told I would have to take medication all my life. Coming from a place of abhorring medication my first instinct was to avoid all the drugs whenever I could. My experience taking the drugs/medication confirmed my fears. The medication would numb my mind in a way. It will be hard for me to explain this but I will give it a shot.
So prior to the medication, my mind was sensitive to the voice of God. My hours alone with God and my time in nature bore much fruit. God doesn’t speak in a loud audible way, at least to me. He speaks in a still small voice that needs you to be quiet in order to hear it. To cut the long story short, there is just a way we used to talk, through my mind/brain and through nature. When I realized the medications were interfering with my communication with God, I fought them for the longest time. I would relapse/get an episode and I would be overmedicated during the hospital admissions. But, immediately I was out of hospital, I would find my ways NOT to take the medication.
I mean, how could I take them, when they were preventing me from talking to and hearing from my best friend? How could I resign myself to a life where I could no longer hear the sweetest voice I ever heard? I was not about that kind of life. So in 2017, I was in that phase where I wasn’t taking medication. At least the first few months. Looking back, I strongly believe God knew exactly what lay ahead of me. Consequently He made sure to prepare me adequately for what was ahead of me.
So 2017, along with turning 25, God sat me down and told me He loved me. It was a quiet day, all alone in the house and I was flooded with a sense of God’s presence and His unconditional unending love for me. That love was deep and strong and mighty and I remember being awestruck that God could reveal such kind of love to me. That was the year God gave me poems to write. Now there are some poems I wrote using my brain, but a few came directly from God, I dare say. Very few in number but the messages in those inspired poems have kept me going these three years. In the poems, God promised to heal me and He promised to love me always.
That was truly my year. Putting this in words is honestly watering it down, but 2017 was my year. It was my year with God, a mountain top experience sitting at the feet of Jesus. Back then I didn’t know what lay ahead. I didn’t know I would eventually be coerced into taking medications which would have side effects and consequences. I didn’t know my body would get dependent on the medication in order to survive. I didn’t know I would later be suicidal or depressed. I didn’t know the bucket loads of tears that awaited me. I was just a happy 25 year old facing life boldly, brightly and bravely.
Thank God, God knew. So He hastened to prepare me while my mind was still sharp as a needle. He did not shy to confess His love for me. He uttered sweet and tender words when I went to seek Him in the woods and when I knelt down in prayer before Him. For all along He knew it was just a matter of time. It was just a matter of time before the myriads of medications would dull my mind. It was just a matter of time before the sensitive nerves of my brain would not pick His still small voice as easily and quickly as before. It was just a matter of time before our love story would be interfered with. So He did His due diligence. And for that I am eternally grateful.
Fast forward. It happened. I was coerced, cajoled and forced to take medication. I finally gave in because I was not psychologically, emotionally and mentally ready for more fights. And partly because the hospital admissions were becoming more and more. True to the word, my mind was numbed and our love story was interfered with. 2018, 2019 I could no longer hear God’s voice as easily as before and that stressed me out. My efforts to look for Jesus in nature and in prayer bore little fruit. As I reasoned from cause to effect I knew this was as a result of the anti-psychotics I was taking which had a direct effect on my brain. Let it suffice to say, we could no longer talk as we used to. I could no longer hear as I used to. Sometimes God would in a special way pass through the medication barrier and reach me, but I would be lying if I said things are the same. I would be lying if I said my experience is the same. It isn’t.
So how do I live today? In 2020. I’m still under medication at least for a “few” more months. It’s still very hard to hear God’s voice. My moments in nature are not as vivid as before. You still ask how I live. The answer is simple. I live by faith. Faith in the one who loves me. Faith in my God of 2017. I know not what lies ahead of me. I won’t lie. It’s dark and dreary at the moment. So I’m groping in the dark, waiting for the light to shine, waiting for the clouds to pass. Waiting for the joy to come in the morning. I long to hear that voice again, I long to find Jesus in the woods once again. I long for us to talk as we used to. But until then my heart will go on singing.