““Today also my complaint is bitter; my hand is heavy on account of my groaning. “Behold, I go forward, but he is not there, and backward, but I do not perceive him; on the left hand when he is working, I do not behold him; he turns to the right hand, but I do not see him. I have not departed from the commandment of his lips; I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my portion of food. For he will complete what he appoints for me, and many such things are in his mind. Therefore I am terrified at his presence; when I consider, I am in dread of him. God has made my heart faint; the Almighty has terrified me; yet I am not silenced because of the darkness, nor because thick darkness covers my face.”
Job 23:2, 8-9, 12, 14-17
The word of God is truly sharper than any two edged sword, piercing the soul. Indeed I ask myself where is God? He’s vacant it seems when I’m walking in obedience but the moment I sin he rises up and is ready to destroy me and I’m covered with grief and fear.
It feels like I’m a toy to God, turned over and thrown where He pleases. How can I contend with Him? And then when in praise and worship with the brethren at Church there’s no joy in my heart and I’m utterly cold and I’m succumbed to grief and then despair and so I depart to go to my own place (Acts 1:25) It’s as if The Holy Spirit is a water faucet giving me drips here and there versus flowing rivers of water.
But yes how I can plead with sinners about the gospel yet feel like a fraud and that it doesn’t apply to me, fearful that I’m a reprobate that knows knowledge of the gospel but doesn’t know God and am to be damned in the end, as God said concerning King Cyrus: “For the sake of my servant Jacob, and Israel my chosen, I call you by your name, I name you, though you do not know me.”
Do you see how this is so hard to not think about? Chances are no it doesn’t make sense it seems utterly foolish. Indeed God can do what He wants with His creation. What can the clay say back to the potter?
I think about the torments of John Bunyan in his book grace abounding that gave me comfort and the absolute tragic accounts of men from the renaissance that ended up killing themselves because they felt they were headed to hell and rejected by God. How it’s my hope that they went to heaven!
To die by your own hand in hope for the tortures to cease I cannot blame them, nor can I even call themselves selfish for doing so. Because I know so well how they felt in doing this. It’s an all day thing, though there’s seasons it fades while others it returns. And you can’t confide in many about it and so it feels like you’re left to your own devices.
As I mentioned the moment I sin yes NOW I feel the presence of God and grief and sorrow along with his displeasure for my sin and His discipline but once I’m restored yes He withdraws His presence as if He is a thief in the night awaiting His next opportunity to utterly defeat me the next time I mess up.
As it says: Blows that wound cleanse away evil; strokes make clean the innermost parts.
I know how it says though He wounds He will Bind up, however my wounds have festered and sat there with no treatment.
Embitterment is my portion and once again fresh doubts break afresh when I buckle under pressure and though outwardly I’m holding it together inwardly I’m enraged and irritated at what seems to be the smallest things. So yes I ask: “Where is God?” Left right up down?
And then I consider His judgments and who He is and I am filled with terror, He knows my heart and my anguish and utter rage, How long God? How long? Just grant me some terminal illness that has an appropriate estimate of how long I have to live so I can plead with my lost friends and family to come to The Lord and I can finish this book about remedies for Scrupulosity and let me go to the grave I’m no better than anyone let my personal lineage die with me. I don’t want to bring any child into this world on the off chance they experience this mental crucifixion.
don’t care how much I know or do for the kingdom I don’t even want a reward or crowns just let me die in peace and depart from this cold world.
And then I consider how I feel unworthy of heaven but I also don’t want to utterly perish in The Lake of Fire, when I behold what’s in this heart I just don’t see the light. The compliments and reassurance of who I am I just can’t see it, all I see is darkness. And I’m no better nor loathsome than road kill that’s been sitting for days decomposing in the sun day and night.
In fact it would make sense if I can die early in life, in my state of health I would barely be able to provide for a family so it’s in my heart to share the gospel then die it’s my desire for thus to be so.
Even if I were to content with The Almighty what could I say to The One who is Perfect and HOLY? A wretched sinner trying to state his own opinions about How He does things.
At this very moment in my heart with my core being, if God somehow does something and fixes me I won’t forget this and it will be a miracle to open my eyes.
“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me? Consider and answer me, O Lord my God; light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death, lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,” lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken. But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me.”
Psalm 13:1-6 ESV
Christs anguish in the garden and on the cross I will never be able to understand.
I am nobody.
MY STORY OF RELIGIOUS OCD 