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[Brian Ipock]

7. What are some possible reasons you have a hard time accepting and moving through Walls?

Looking back at my adult life, I see a huge Wall. It was a wall that brought everything to a stop. It’s basically “the wall” so far. I’m sure there will be more, but I will talk about this one.

In 2006, 10 days after my son was born, my mom died. A week later my Grandfather (paternal) died. My wife was at the start of postpartum depression, and since mom was gone, my dad wanted to kill himself. Mom’s death forever changed me. It took 10 years to “get past” if there is such a thing. At any rate, it took me about 10 years before I saw healing of any kind. 2006 was a rough year for me, I also lost my best friend that year. To say I was in turmoil is an understatement. I spent a long time just flat numb, not feeling or doing anything. Then I started drinking heavily. I remember being drunk at one point for about 2 ½ weeks. It ended with my wife coming in and finding me sitting on the side of the bed staring at the Glock 19 in my hand. I don’t really remember too much about the fallout of that day. I do remember sobering up, and starting to feel again. Over the next couple of months, it was just plain raw. I think I shut down somewhere inside in a way. The big thing during this time was that I was extremely, and I mean extremely mad at God. I blamed him for mom’s death, and for not saving and healing her like I knew he could. I hated him.

I ran from the Church, as far as I could get. I didn’t think I could ever come back, I just didn’t feel anything anymore. No faith, no presence, no peace, nothing. I hated him for that too.

I’ll spare you the rest of the story about the journey back. What I will say is this. For me, getting past “The Wall”, and other small walls attached to it (there was never just one in my experience) was very difficult. I should have run to God, should have thrown myself on my faith, gotten through the bad times. I did not.

I ran from my faith. I was stubborn as all get out about it too. It was all God’s fault, he took my mom. I thought just like a petulant child. I had a horrible time getting past this wall because I couldn’t see or experience God through the pain and the anger. I couldn’t come to reach out to him, as I didn’t feel he deserved my prayers. I thought he was just cruel and not caring. What was the point? Well as any who may read this knows, he’s not like that at all. Thanks be to God he was always there, always looking out for me and taking care of me. Looking back now, I see him even in my darkest moments. I didn’t deserve him, but he was there. That’s just how the grace and love of the father works brothers and sisters. Thanks be to God!

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