These past two days, my life has been topsyturvy – bad and good.
I have had my hope taken away from me by my father. He assured me that all stuff going on in my head is a fantasy. When I heard this, it hurt me. The “Holy Spirit” which I have begun to include in my conversations is just a hallucination. My first reaction was to not believe my father’s words but because he is my father, that reaction had no strength and conviction. I texted my closest friend of one year and she assured me that my father’s words are aligned with the church’s teaching.
People like me claiming that I hear a voice (which is pleasant, guides, and at peace) are having hallucinations when they claim there is something divine about this voice. I became defensive and said that my father has never taken care of me emotionally in my life. Why should I believe him? Other reasons began to pop up from nowhere which declared that my father was not fit to be telling me that the voice is a fantasy.
Everything began to crumble in my life two days ago. My closest friend texted that my priest should have been honest with me and told me the voice in my head is considered a hallucination. And that the voice is not guiding me, especially in my writing. Today, I hear the voice greet me, good morning. It is 6:14 a.m. and I am unimpressed. Perhaps the voice is a hallucination.
Although I am dismayed today, I still plod on. I choose to go against the lack of hope. The hope that I do have a voice that helps me and guides me. That same voice tells me when to listen and when to withhold my words. That same voice encourages me. That same voice turns me to God, in good and bad times. Yes, it perhaps is a hallucination because I do take medications (per my closest friend)! Science explains that it, she texted.
But, it is one that is welcomed! That voice has helped me persevere even when my closest friend exclaimed that why would God single me out to communicate to me through the Spirit and others do not receive this special grace. I choose to go against the lack of hope. I choose to continue to pray for others with mental illness, depression, and anxiety. I choose to continue to encourage them through my writing. And, I choose to let this (wonderful) voice guide me.
The voice says, “Peace be with you.”
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