Sometimes the most horrible thoughts flit through my head. The house burning down is a frequent visitor. Car crashes, falls down the stairs with the resulting broken bones, other life threatening injuries, explosions, and being trapped all make the occasional appearance in glorious Technicolor. This morning it was dropping my flute and it being mangled by its case. That's not as dangerous as others but it would affect me deeply. Those and other nightmarish mental wanderings pop up, unwanted, and often leave me feeling a bit rattled.
Thankfully, they only last a few seconds. But those few seconds pull my awareness into another reality. Everything around me vanishes. I even heard the metallic crunch of my flute.
"Really, Sue?" I ask myself, gasping, with eyes wide open in shock, "Where did that come from?"
The grim thoughts are bound and laid at the foot of the Cross. Poof! It's over. Until the next time. Thank You, Lord, for teaching me not to dwell in them because these dark imaginings would steal my joy very quickly.
If I think about it, most of them are based around feelings of helpless and fear because of events beyond my control. A lot of them have to do with loss as well. I wonder if they are symptomatic of PTSD? Are they simply a form of anxiety?
There's a sense of truth about that last paragraph.
Thank You, Lord, for answering yet another "Why?"
I have never told anyone about this although the reasons for secrecy seem rather lame in light of this post. Shame has played a huge part: the idea that things are going so well, how is it possible such dark thoughts could rise? The judge says nice people don't think ugly thoughts. Then there's the worry that this is definitely not "normal" and therefore should not be voiced because it could be a sign of instability.
Being in a mental hospital is often another dark, undesired daymare. Understandably so because that traumatic circumstance is based on lived experience. Even after all these years, the memories still haunt me as if it was yesterday. I guess those are real memories, a flashback, not an imagining. There's a huge difference.
Lord, thank You for encouraging an honest dialog. Thank You for the gift of imagination. Help it be positive. Help me protect and nurture it so that every thought is on good and Holy things. In Jesus' name I pray. Amen.
"And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather expose them." Eph 5:11
The Black River is a journey in faith. It delves into an exploration of life: from the calm, clear waters of the good days, the mundane, to the swirling eddies and deep waters of issues that face every one of us. Thank you for visiting this site. You can contact me personally at: godandtheblackriver@gmail.com
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