Christian Support Group Community Group
This is a place for everyone who loves Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior (or those who are seeking Him), to come and discuss important issues in their lives and find support from fellow believers in regards to their faith and life. We uphold the Bible and living a Christ-like life, not as a way to heaven, but as a reflection of our love for God.
First, excuse my English (sorry if it's been said a lot in other sites.) And sorry if I'm not clear. It's difficult for me to say what I want to say. Also, I was diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome when I was 19 or 20 years old.
Through all my life, I always encountered a church; it didn't matter if Christ was there or not. Because of all the negative experiences I had with them (and because I wasn't very into it most of the time), I distanced myself from them. I didn't want to listen anything that had to do with God or Christ or anything like that.
I've been attending church for a year. I already accepted Christ. It was all good until one day. I was taking some classes at the church, with Mom and my stepfather. That one day was separated for everyone who was taking classes; it was for evaluating ourselves, so each person would know what might be keeping us from serving Christ. I talked, but only a little, afraid that I was going to cry for what happened before. Sometime later, I was supposed to go to an award ceremony. But, all day, I was not feeling well. I was sobbing, thinking about my past. A student from college called. She was going to take me to the ceremony. I said no. That I was okay. That I wanted to stay home. I didn't let anyone know I wasn't okay. I never let anyone know I'm not okay, not even my siblings in Christ. But it's difficult to hide it.
Fast forward... I went, for second time, to a Christian camp. Camp Elevate, to be precise. It was good and I had fun. But...that feeling of sadness, that pressure and burning I've been feeling in my chest all the time... It was stronger. After the preacher called youth to the front to receive the Baptism in the Holy Spirit, which might happened the second night at camp; though I was sitting far away from some of the youth group I'm part of, I went to the front. He said we (the youth) had to talk (I learned the first sign of it was speaking languages.) I couldn't. All I felt was that pain in my chest. Once at the cabin, I went to sleep, crying without making any noise. I'm sure none of the girls in the cabin noticed. Next day, I continued to avoid, ignore and stare blankly at some of the youth from the same church I'm going. After a while, I stopped doing that. I said I was sorry and that I wasn't feeling well. But I didn't let them know further about what's wrong with me. Even if one of the girls noticed. I told her I didn't want to talk about it. She told me that, if anything, she'll be there to listen. Let me fast-forward to the last day in camp. That day I was listening to some girls testifying. These girls were part of a few who, in two of the nights at camp, had been crying and screaming, and had to be taken away. To be honest, I don't know how much time they stayed like that. Just that I still could hear them from where I was sitting. I remember one of them saying that she had an unsolved issue from her past. I felt like I understood what was wrong with me in that camp. When one of the leaders started calling youth to the front, I wasn't feeling well. I felt like I wanted to cry. But I didn't want the guys to know. I didn't want anyone to see me. So, I walked out of there, and looked for a place where I can be alone. I sat and cried. Lots of horrible thoughts came into my mind. Suicidal thoughts. Just so no one would know my shameful, disgusting secret. I didn't do it. I sat there for a long time, asking God that none of the guys from the youth group get out and look for me. I stood up. My plan was going to the kitchen to fetch some water. From the distance, I saw the pastor from the same church I'm going (he was there because he, along with other two, were going to take us home.) I did drank some water. I was going to get out and, I still don't know why, I walked over to him. He was happy to see me. And he noticed I was not alright. I sobbed again, every time he asked what was wrong. I couldn't tell him. Just that it was something that I didn't dare to share with anyone. He said that I need to talk to someone. He even suggested to go to a psychologist. He and a woman (she's the mother of one of the leaders) prayed for me. I was feeling a bit okay. Then, I was 'happy' with the guys. 'Happy' as in 'I'll be here smiling, while they don't suspect I'm struggling with something'.
The pastor was teaching in 2-4 Fridays, to youth and adults alike, about forgiveness. What happens when someone doesn't forgive and holds grudges. That person would grow roots of bitterness. I, also, learned that forgiving those who hurt you (even those who seem to not deserve to be forgiven) is painful.
Ever since I was little, I held grudges against people (family, friends, others.) But I, also, might have been holding a grudge against me. I've been hurting myself in different ways. I hate myself. I feel disgusted at myself. Because I've hurt others, too. And because of my retching secret, that I don't even dare to post here.
All I want is to be free from this pain. And I mean REAL freedom...
Through all my life, I always encountered a church; it didn't matter if Christ was there or not. Because of all the negative experiences I had with them (and because I wasn't very into it most of the time), I distanced myself from them. I didn't want to listen anything that had to do with God or Christ or anything like that.
I've been attending church for a year. I already accepted Christ. It was all good until one day. I was taking some classes at the church, with Mom and my stepfather. That one day was separated for everyone who was taking classes; it was for evaluating ourselves, so each person would know what might be keeping us from serving Christ. I talked, but only a little, afraid that I was going to cry for what happened before. Sometime later, I was supposed to go to an award ceremony. But, all day, I was not feeling well. I was sobbing, thinking about my past. A student from college called. She was going to take me to the ceremony. I said no. That I was okay. That I wanted to stay home. I didn't let anyone know I wasn't okay. I never let anyone know I'm not okay, not even my siblings in Christ. But it's difficult to hide it.
Fast forward... I went, for second time, to a Christian camp. Camp Elevate, to be precise. It was good and I had fun. But...that feeling of sadness, that pressure and burning I've been feeling in my chest all the time... It was stronger. After the preacher called youth to the front to receive the Baptism in the Holy Spirit, which might happened the second night at camp; though I was sitting far away from some of the youth group I'm part of, I went to the front. He said we (the youth) had to talk (I learned the first sign of it was speaking languages.) I couldn't. All I felt was that pain in my chest. Once at the cabin, I went to sleep, crying without making any noise. I'm sure none of the girls in the cabin noticed. Next day, I continued to avoid, ignore and stare blankly at some of the youth from the same church I'm going. After a while, I stopped doing that. I said I was sorry and that I wasn't feeling well. But I didn't let them know further about what's wrong with me. Even if one of the girls noticed. I told her I didn't want to talk about it. She told me that, if anything, she'll be there to listen. Let me fast-forward to the last day in camp. That day I was listening to some girls testifying. These girls were part of a few who, in two of the nights at camp, had been crying and screaming, and had to be taken away. To be honest, I don't know how much time they stayed like that. Just that I still could hear them from where I was sitting. I remember one of them saying that she had an unsolved issue from her past. I felt like I understood what was wrong with me in that camp. When one of the leaders started calling youth to the front, I wasn't feeling well. I felt like I wanted to cry. But I didn't want the guys to know. I didn't want anyone to see me. So, I walked out of there, and looked for a place where I can be alone. I sat and cried. Lots of horrible thoughts came into my mind. Suicidal thoughts. Just so no one would know my shameful, disgusting secret. I didn't do it. I sat there for a long time, asking God that none of the guys from the youth group get out and look for me. I stood up. My plan was going to the kitchen to fetch some water. From the distance, I saw the pastor from the same church I'm going (he was there because he, along with other two, were going to take us home.) I did drank some water. I was going to get out and, I still don't know why, I walked over to him. He was happy to see me. And he noticed I was not alright. I sobbed again, every time he asked what was wrong. I couldn't tell him. Just that it was something that I didn't dare to share with anyone. He said that I need to talk to someone. He even suggested to go to a psychologist. He and a woman (she's the mother of one of the leaders) prayed for me. I was feeling a bit okay. Then, I was 'happy' with the guys. 'Happy' as in 'I'll be here smiling, while they don't suspect I'm struggling with something'.
The pastor was teaching in 2-4 Fridays, to youth and adults alike, about forgiveness. What happens when someone doesn't forgive and holds grudges. That person would grow roots of bitterness. I, also, learned that forgiving those who hurt you (even those who seem to not deserve to be forgiven) is painful.
Ever since I was little, I held grudges against people (family, friends, others.) But I, also, might have been holding a grudge against me. I've been hurting myself in different ways. I hate myself. I feel disgusted at myself. Because I've hurt others, too. And because of my retching secret, that I don't even dare to post here.
All I want is to be free from this pain. And I mean REAL freedom...
A Bottle of Your Tears
Sheila Walst
When I opened the gift from my friend, I wasn’t quite sure what it was. The small glass bottle was a beautiful cobalt blue, about two inches tall, covered in sliver filigree.
I thought it might be a perfume bottle, albeit a very small one, but her note explained that it was actually a tear bottle she’d found in an antique store in Israel. I did a little research and discovered that tear bottles were common in Rome and Egypt around the time of Christ. Mourners would collect their tears as they walked toward the graveyard to bury their loved one, a tangible indication of how much that person was loved. Sometimes women were even paid to follow the mourners and cry into such a vessel.
Apparently the more anguish and tears produced, the more important and valued the deceased person was perceived to be. But legend has it those mourners-for-hire who cried the loudest and produced the most tears received the greatest compensation.
I treasure this little blue bottle because it reminds me of a profound spiritual truth David wrote about in Psalm 56, when he was at one of the lowest points of his life. David had been captured by his enemies in Gath (he had actually feigned insanity to survive), but he found comfort in the fact that God saw everything he was going through and caught every single tear he shed. I love David’s confidence in the mercy and faithfulness of God even when he himself had not been faithful to the Holy One.
David knew without a doubt that Almighty God never misses a moment, a tear, or a sigh from any of His children. Do you rest in that truth, or do you question that God loves you that much?
Do you ever feel alone? Have you ever thought, “No one on this earth understands the depth of my suffering”?
If you’ve taken a wrong turn in the road, are you expecting God to hold back His mercy until you get back on the straight and narrow?
That’s not the God David knew; that’s not the God of the Bible.
We have a Father who keeps track of all our wanderings and catches every single tear we cry. When we begin to grasp the depth of that truth, we can say with confidence just as David did,
This I know: God is on my side! — Psalm 56:9
Five Minutes in the Word
You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book? — Psalm 56:8
The Lord hears His people when they call to Him for help. He rescues them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed. — Psalm 34:17-18
He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds. — Psalm 147:3
Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! — Psalm 126:5
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. — Matthew 5:4
Excerpted with permission from 5 Minutes with Jesus by Sheila Walsh, copyright Thomas Nelson.
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Your Turn
One of the most insidious lies of the enemy is that we are completely alone in our sufferings. That God’s not paying attention, doesn’t care, and won’t intervene even if He noticed what is going on in our lives. No one understands. Rest today in the truths of Scripture that God cares intimately about you, sees what you are struggling under, and is with you and for you.
This babbling nonsense has nothing to do with God, and it will hinder your walk with God. So let go of that nightmare. And try and find a church that doesn't pressure you to do things that are not biblical.
Second, it sounds like you have a combination of anxiety and depression. God will help you, but he has also provided doctors for us to use. Depending upon what kind of charismatic or pentecostal church you are in, they may tell you just to let God heal you.
And he will! But he uses doctors, and medications. I think you need to see a doctor and tell him the mental and emotional pain you are going through.
And please remember how much God loves you. He sent Jesus to die on the cross for you. And he will never leave you or forsake you, meaning you cannot lose your salvation, another thing many of these charismatic churches teach. Wrong! Not biblical.
If you need more Bible verses, I can certainly provide them for you. Once you have been adopted into the family of God, God will not cast you out.
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, 4 even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love 5 he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, 6 to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. 7 In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, 8 which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight 9 making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ 10 as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.
11 In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, 12 so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory. 13 In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, 14 who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory." Eph. 1:3-14
I'm a bit bothered that I never got to speak. What truly bothered me was the whole thing about my past. It came to haunt me.
I was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome by a psychologist. I was diagnosed with anxiety, too, but that was years before the Asperger's. By that time, I received medication for anxiety and sleep problems. It made me feel miserable, even if my face revealed a blank expression. I didn't want to look for help after that. I really didn't want to be medicated. But, now, I've decided to go look for help. I still haven't gone to a psychologist, and I don't know how will he/she help me. It scares me, but I might as well do it. I learned God heals in any way He wants.
Thank you for the biblical passage. It's very helpful. :]
1 Corinthians 14:14-15 (KJV)
14 For if I pray in an unknown tongue, my spirit prayeth, but my understanding is unfruitful.
15 What is it then? I will pray with the spirit, and I will pray with the understanding also: I will sing with the spirit, and I will sing with the understanding also.
19 Yet in the church I had rather speak five words with my understanding, that by my voice I might teach others also, than ten thousand words in an unknown tongue.
33 For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace, as in all churches of the saints.
Please, read this whole chapter. Paul speaks against "speaking in tongues". (I believe "foreign" language should be the real interpretation)
1 Corinthians 13 (KJV)
13 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
Think about it!!!