breaking the silence...part I

This post has been a long time coming: two years, to be exact. Or at least that was the beginning of the process. Rewind to Portugal 2010. That spring I was preparing to leave Lisbon in June, and my spiritual life was every bit as tumultuous as moving back across the ocean. I felt alone, isolated from anyone in whom I believed I could trust. Given that my personality for most of my life has been weighed down by melancholy and loneliness, that spring was not markedly abnormal. Except for one major element: friendship discord.

All throughout my life, God has been faithful to provide me with good friends and a thoroughly supportive family. In Portugal, I grew to love and depend on my teammates and national friends. But at some point during my two year term, I began feeling isolated and skeptical of my relationships with teammates. All I can deduce is that my mind was shrouded in negativity. Nearly everything and everyone failed to escape the judgmental scrutiny of my thoughts. Imagine your most cherished friend and the loving endurance of your relationship. What if suddenly your heart was filled with cynical observations that quickly turned into condemnation? Friendships cannot withstand that type of judgment.

Now having the benefit of two years to reflect, I see that my mind was saturated with lies and evil. I do not mean to say that somehow the lies were the result of some other person's doing. On the contrary, I know that the lies, self-righteousness, and judmentalism arose from the dark depths of my soul. I was blinded and hateful. Not only that, I was malicious. Having no one to speak with about my frustrations, the lies and hurt marinated in my heart until they festered like exposed wounds.

I now consider my position on the team in Portugal to have been a unique one. There was no one with whom I could have spoken freely about my thoughts, without being slanderous...everyone was tied together as one team. I did make efforts to speak with a counselor, but benefited little from the interaction. By the time I realized I needed to speak directly with my estranged friend, my hurt and deception had become a twisted web of bitterness. Given that I would be leaving Portugal shortly, I decided to maintain my silence and apologize to those I had involved in my struggle.

Thankfully, by God's grace, my friend confronted me one early morning during the last week I was in Lisbon. Sitting in a cafe, tearfully exposing my sin was probably the hardest experience I have ever gone through. By that point, it did not matter whether my hurt was substantiated; I was thoroughly wrong and injudicious. I have never in my life experienced that kind of spiritual torment. What I did not know then was that the heartache would continue for at least another year...