"You're closer than the mountains that the ancients gazed upon
You're closer than the air I breathe; Much closer than the sun..
Not out there 'somewhere', out of place and out of touch
You're right here, right now, closer than my life"

This is the song that's been playing in my head for the past week and a half, which is beautiful, because my actual walk with the Lord has been feeling pretty distant. Certain relationships have come to a head, and it seems I am walking on thin ice with them.
I've been getting caught up in what the present circumstances look like, and pretty self-involved, throwing lots of pity parties where only I show up. I've been dragging my butt to church/cell meetings, and even though I want to get out of myself and pray, the struggle just to make words form on behalf of someone else is something I've just had no energy to do. And then I get in the mindset of "What's wrong with me that I have no desire to pray for anyone close to me?" or even worse, I get this mind garbage going around back there somewhere that there is no one close to me, so why care about anyone else? I can literally feel myself getting harder and harder, and more and more stubborn, and less and less like the real me.
Then Ian brings this tape to our cell meeting on walls we put up for protection that actually become our prisons, and releasing the 'shout' to make those walls come crashing down. I know there's stuff in there that's for me, but there's something inside me resisting, to the point where I can feel my teeth clenching, and my whole body tensing up. The next week I have some idea of what's coming, so I plant myself right by the door. "What? You looking for a quick escape?" someone in the room jokes....they have no idea how right they are! My soul is hating this teaching so much, that I just lie there on the floor like some wad of old chewing gum someone's been trying to peel off the bottom of their shoe for years, but the stubborn thing just won't budge. The tape finishes, we pray, the food comes out, and I'm ready to skulk away, another week being disappointed and stuck in myself. Then Dan pipes up..."let's pray for eachother" and I'm thinking, 'like I have any energy left to pray for anyone else; I can't even get up some mornings in time for work, let alone drag myself here. I used to love these people, but at the moment I have very few feelings towards anyone at all.' This attitude is not me, and I know it. But I've been ignoring it for so long, I don't even attempt to shut it down. What happened to the warrior-lady I used to know? Where did she go? Who is this other person inside my head? This unfeeling, self-pitying, draining sponge of a girl? What is she doing there? Who let her in? I am so frustrated inside, and yet on the outside I continue smiling and going through the motions. We start praying for me, and I start crying, although my body is still tense. My teeth are clenched, my back is stiff, and my hands are shoved deep into my pockets. I invited them to pray, but everything about my body language is speaking resistance. They continue to pray, and I know the words are true, I find myself tightening up more and more. It's not until I start speaking out the prayers myself that I begin to feel some release. Tears are streaming down my face, yet my voice is cold. But I have a voice, so that is progress. Finally, I get to the point where I start believing the prayers that are being prayed again. It's like this veil of oppressive lies is being lifted off of me and I can see clearly again. God is good, and is bringing me more clarity. Unfortunately, that's as specific I can be in this place at the moment. Such is the process.