Cabin Fever
This season I have felt like a dull version of myself. Somehow I feel as if I’ve seen colors less brilliantly and experienced emotions less vibrantly. I have caught myself reacting to people and situations rather than responding, but I haven’t been able to figure out why. My prayers have been filled with cries asking my soul to wake up and asking God to encounter me more intimately or extravagantly, yet I have still been feeling like I’m in a sort of desert season.
The most frustrating part of this dry season is that I feel like, technically, I’m “doing it right” (Enneagram One over here people). I have been doing my absolute best to keep up with spiritual disciplines. I’ve still been waking up for quiet time. I’ve still been reading the Word every day. I’ve still been as intentional as possible with my time towards friends and family. Then, the other day, I read this in a devotional:
“The psalms tell us that God hides us in His great pavilion far from the strife of this world when we are with Him in the secret place. This world and all its troubles begin to bring cabin fever ─ cramped and claustrophobic ─ but when in the secret place, we step into the spacious ground of Heaven which brings rest.”
And something inside of me shifted. This season has been filled with so much time spent running around and driving back and forth and doing homework and waking up early and staying up late (well, for me… 10:30pm y’all!). I realized I’ve been missing it. I’ve been missing communion in forms besides reading a bit of the Word in the morning or worshipping in the car. I have missed writing that is not turned in for a grade. I have missed geek-ing out over researching original Hebrew and Greek words. I have missed reading books that aren’t textbooks. Because my Secret Place with the Lord has almost always been found with pen and paper. But pen and paper take time. They take time away from homework or time away from people I love or time away from sleeping.
The longer I go without writing though, the more claustrophobic I have felt. Claustrophobia is the fear of being in a small place and having no way to escape. People experiencing claustrophobia often have an overwhelming, deep sense of irrational fear that can lead to anxiety or panic attacks. The longer I have gone without writing, the more I have felt overwhelmed by the fear of beginning again. In fact, I’ve felt like I don’t even remember how to write well—like somehow, I have lost the ability to form my thoughts articulately on paper. More and more often my thoughts look foolish when I see them written down. More and more I begin to doubt that the time and energy is worth it because it’s not as if the thoughts are new or revelatory anyway.
In busy seasons I have told myself that I simply need to learn how to commune “differently” with God. I have told myself that I need to take my 10-minute gaps here and there and turn them into praise parties or take my long drives to school as prayer or podcast time. And I do. I do need to learn how to commune in many different ways with God and experience Him in dimensions beyond the boxes in which I generally like to put Him in. The reality though, is that there are certain forms of worship in which I feel a special intimacy with Him that I don’t get from other forms of worship.
In the same way, I love watching movies with friends. I love game nights. I love exploring new cities or hiking through forests. But there are certain ways that I connect with friends that make me feel known and loved that movies and game nights can’t provide me. There are certain ways I feel like I’ve really gotten to know someone and clearly heard their heart that can’t be done through shopping or hiking. I still enjoy movies and games and adventures, and I think they’re important to do with friends every so often. I even know people who would prefer movies or games or adventures and feel that they connect better to people that way. But do I feel deeply connected to my friends if I haven’t actually talked to and spent deep, raw quality time with them face-to-face over a meal? No. I miss them. I miss feeling close to them beyond physical proximity.
And that’s how I feel this season. I feel like I’ve watched a lot of movies and had a lot of game nights and maybe even gone to Disneyland with the Lord. Yet, somehow, the experience is still duller than it has been in a long while. The longer I have spent in the rush of this world without getting to my real Secret Place with Him, the more I have felt cooped up with “cabin fever” and forgotten the spacious ground that I have access to. The more time I spend in the dark, cramped room the more my eyes simply have adjusted to the dim lighting.
So here I am friends, writing. Because I need some accountability. But mostly because my heart can’t take the cramped space any longer.
P.S. Missed you guys. It’s been a long 6 months.
