"The natural condition of life for human beings is one of reciprocal rootedness in others. As firmness of footing is a condition of walking and secure movement, so assurance of others being for us is the condition of stable, healthy living. There are many ways this can be present in individual cases, but it must be there. If it is not, we are but walking wounded, our life more or less a shambles until we die.

When the required type of "for-ness" is adequately present, human "circles of sufficiency" emerge. The most fundamental form is that of a mother and child. Then perhaps mother and child and father. ... then there are young lovers, reciprocally absorbed, as well as mature mates. Of course numerous forms of human association can take on some degree of this "sufficiency" and always with a distinctive character arising out of the precise nature of the relationships involved.

... Ultimately, every human circle is doomed to dissolution if it is not caught up in the life of the only genuinely self-sufficient circle of sufficiency, that of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. For that circle is the only one that is truly and totally self-sufficient. And all the broken circles must ultimately find their healing there, if anywhere.

Only when rooted in that divine Trinitarian circle can the broken individuals from the broken circles recover from the wounds received in their circles of origin and find wholeness on their long journey from the womb to the eternal city of God. Of course it was never God's intention that the natural human circles of sufficiency, of reciprocal rootedness, would be illusory, fragile, and eventually broken; and if they were lived within his kingdom, they would not be.

... A small child not adequately received can actually die from it; if it survives, it is very likely to be incapable of giving and receiving love in decent human relationships for the rest of its life. It will be perpetually 'left out,' if only in its imagination. And in this matter, imagination can have the force of reality. Thus the final words of the Old Testament speak of one who must come and 'restore the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers' to avoid a curse coming to rest upon the land (Malachi 4:6).

... [Severe wounds in our rootedness] may leave us unconnected to others at levels of our soul where lack of nourishment from deep connections with others means spiritual starvation and loss of wholeness in every dimension..."

--Dallas Willard, "Renovation of the Heart," p 179-180

It has been one of those weekends. What is the adequate word? Maybe I am fearful to write it out-- to say it aloud. Where have I been? Depressed? Confused? Tired? Hopeless? Lost? Overly Emotional? Hormonally or neurologically unbalanced? Neurotic.

Sometimes, these days come when I find myself alone in my apartment, and suddenly, all of my fears, all of my holes, those impossible, gaping voids are pressed upon me. I fall down into the pit. I am all too-aware of my broken heart, the things that are "in my imagination," but nevertheless wreak havoc on my reality.

I try not to write too much on these days, I try not to indulge in my own neurosis as it often seems to do more harm than good; it might be better to get on with things, wash dishes and clean the bathroom rather than sit in a hopeless stupor of irrational despair. But I think that sometimes these neurotic states are also line-leaders toward the discovery of some hidden doors in this messy heart of mine. Sometimes I have to follow it down the rabbit-hole rather than brush it aside, rather than pack down the already-hardened dirt of this heart.

I find that although I am typically unusually aware of my own inner-life, it is more difficult for me to make accurate judgments about my outer life. I have a difficult time understanding the messages of my body, I don't know how to recognize when I've overdone it, when I am too tired. I don't know when enough is enough. I don't know what my needs are nor how to meet them.

But it seems, these days, that very message of "enoughness" has gotten loud enough for me to hear, too loud to ignore. I am exhausted. I am frustrated and I am empty. I get to the end of the week (and sometimes just the day) and am all too aware that I have nothing else to give and I am starving to be filled in ways I don't know how to seek. I don't even have the energy to say "help" and I don't have any more emotional or relational stamina to simply say, "please, someone come sit next to me." I doesn't even seem worth the energy to ask. I am starving for adults, parched for those who can listen-- but there seems to be a shortage. I need someone to teach me how to simply ask to be refilled. I hardly even know what that means, what it looks like. I don't quite know where to look and I am yet unfinished in my ability to trust and receive. All I know is that I can't do it alone. How do you ask for help in asking for help?

It is a strange thing in our society, how it seems that just being with people requires appointments and agendas. To simply say, "I need to breathe your same air" is something of an imposition. Or perhaps this is a function of my broken circles-- a product of my backwards world, my crossed eyes. My old, mangled heart. And maybe it is difficult because I am afraid of that common air being toxic, I find I am better off alone than the hurt that comes of my inability to properly enter relationship. Being alone sometimes seems better than the disappointment.

I hate writing these things, hate thinking that someone might read it and think I am begging for love. But maybe that is what I am doing. I don't like writing these things because I hate to think that I can't solve these things on my own. It seems wrong to air my weaknesses. But maybe it's just a feeble attempt at calling for help. Maybe it is just some strange prayer for me, some way of confession. yes-- that must be it. Confession. Coming clean, even if it is simply the act of speaking aloud that I need.

But the truth is that I am very weary. I have a thousand needs that I can't seem to meet. I am angry and frustrated about work-- that I put in so much time, so much energy, so much passion and commitment, not out of some sort of sense of duty or need for recognition, but because that is what is required, that is what is best and good, and yet I can't seem to find the care I need for my own body, my own soul. I am burned out. I am not receiving the support I need. I feel I am living in a world where one must be autonomously able.

I am frustrated by the lack of respect I receive simply in the form of financial compensation. I feel guilty for getting sick-- illness that is clearly a direct result of the stress and difficulty I am under. I don't have time or energy to care for myself.

And I am tired of it. And yet I am searching in the dark. All that there seems to do is take another leap of faith. Keep Walking seems to be the word on the tongue of the Father. Perhaps these neurotic weekends are necessary to keep me on the journey. Perhaps it is these hopeless, sleepless, tearful nights that will teach my legs to move forward. These are the environments for growth, as difficult and humbling as they are.

And so it seems, perhaps, that the next step on this journey is to begin to actively search out the life of teaching. I need to come out of hiding. I have a courage that I didn't have before, I think. Although I know this process is far from finished, the word now seems to be "teach" as terrifying as that is. The battle ground has arrived and I am ready to face it. The only way is through.

And perhaps this must also be true in my relational life. I am coming face to face with voices I've allowed to color my heart, beliefs about my sense of belonging that have kept me in the lie of aloneness for far too long and it is simply time to walk out. This too, is an area that I simply need to begin to walk forward in, somehow. And if you are reading this, please hear me ask for help. I need guidance in what it means to be in relationship. I need someone to sit next to me, I need safe places to breathe air with people who demand nothing from me but presence. I don't have many words and I have even fewer answers or explanations. But this I know-- I need you. I need relationship and I need it more than i am able to admit. I need it more than I am able to recognize.