The story that the sermon at my church was based on this morning was the story of the Good Samaritan. Many people know this story, about a man who was beaten and left for half dead. Two men pass by him. Then a Samaritan comes and helps him, showing mercy and love to him.
I was thinking about the message today and I realized that I don't think I realized how much mercy plays a role in my day to day life of being paranoid and schizophrenic.
The whole world is after me. The man sitting next to me is part of the FBI and they're watching my every move. They even had people follow me to my apartment so they know where I live. The man next to him on the other side is taking pictures of me, to help track me down. The more evidence, the better. The woman on the other side of me is mad at me for some reason, I mean, really angry... REALLY angry. She is glaring at me and staring at me. Everybody in the world is mad at me. Everybody hates me. I'm a nobody... scratch that, LESS than a nobody. I'm not even human. Why don't they do what I'm expecting them to do and throw me in the lake with the gators?
If you've ever wondered what day to day life with paranoia is like, the paragraph above is how I experience it. The paranoia and psychosis work together to create a cobweb of lies, doubt and terror.
I've come out of psychotic breaks three times now. Each time, there comes a point when I realize that nobody's after me and most of the things I had seen and thought were unreal. When I come out of a psychotic episode, I am relieved to find out the truth. I feel the merciful grace of God come into my life as I realize that I am safe and that I am going to be okay. It's a huge turning point in my disorders. It's also a huge relief.
Nobody should live a life of terror.
To me, mercy is when we are expecting the worst thing imaginable and then it does not come. It's like living in terror but then a feeling of restoration and refreshment comes in instead. It is undeserved kindness and peace.
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