Spiritual Warfare, Devil Attacks, Spiritual Protection, Faith And Resilience

Spiritual Aridity: The Thing Nobody Warned Me About

I've been going back and forth on whether to even write this. And honestly, sharing it at all feels like I'm giving the devil airtime he doesn't deserve. But I also know that if I had read something like this three weeks ago, it would've helped me. So here we are.

Let me back up.

Jon got baptized at Easter Vigil.

Jon got baptized at Easter Vigil. If you've been following along, you know this has been a long time coming, and it was one of the most beautiful, holy moments of our lives. Easter Sunday felt like heaven on earth. I'm not exaggerating. It was the kind of day where you're just sitting there thinking, "God, you are so real, and I can't believe I get to witness this."

And then... nothing.

Not nothing as in something bad happened. Nothing as in I just... went flat. The fire was gone. The excitement, the closeness to God, the desire to share it all... just evaporated. I had all these plans to post about Jon's baptism on my Catholic account, the one I started when we began sharing about going celibate and choosing obedience. This community has walked with us through all of it, they've been praying for Jon, cheering us on, literally watching God move in real time. And I couldn't bring myself to post a single thing. For nearly three weeks, Jon had to drag me to Mass. That is humiliating to type. Especially when you talk about obedience and faith online. Especially when people look at you like you've got it together. I didn't have anything together. I didn't even want to go.

And it got worse. Last week I was standing in the Communion line and I almost got out. Like physically, my body wanted to leave the line. The pull to just step aside and sit back down was so strong, and I can't explain it other than to say it felt like something outside of me was trying to keep me from receiving. I just kept my eyes on the cross and kept walking forward. I have a frog in my throat just typing that because it's embarrassing and scary and I don't fully understand it.

Here's the thing though... I need to give you context so this doesn't just sound like I randomly checked out of my faith.

We're in a season right now where everything feels like a lot on top of a lot. The bottom of it is finances. I'm not going to make this post about money because that's not the point, but anyone who has ever been in a financial struggle knows it makes everything else harder. There's this baseline scarcity that just sits underneath every conversation, every decision, every breath. It doesn't matter how strong your faith is, it adds weight.

And the weird part for me to mentally swallow and make sense of is, I know God has us. I genuinely do. I don't fear ending up on the street because even if it came to that, we would have God. I think about Job all the time, how awful things got for him, and instantly I feel better about our situation and a little convicted about my own attitude. And then I lean into the Gospel of Matthew, the part about how the birds don't worry about where they'll get their food because God provides. (Don't quote me on the exact verse, just go Google "Gospel of Matthew and anxiety," you'll find it.) 

Knowing all of this logically and feeling it....Two very different things.

So this season has been heavy. And then right after one of the most spiritually significant moments of our lives... I went dry. It started to hit me... "Is this what people mean when they say the devil attacks you after a spiritual high? Is this what that actually looks like?"

Which, I'm going to be honest, sounds really weird to me. Like even typing it feels strange. Talking about the devil felt the same way talking about God did when I first started sharing my faith online. Like I was talking about something that wasn't real. Something made up. Something people would roll their eyes at.

But then I remembered how awkward I felt the first time I shared that I heard God in Adoration. I thought people were going to think I was crazy. And my community just got it. They understood. The ones who didn't stayed curious. And yeah, some people were awful, but the impact was so much greater than the negative pushback (which I saw with time).

Still, I didn't share any of this in real time. I never do when I'm in it because when I'm that fragile, the commentary from the online world can get in. And I was fragile, still kinda feel that way... like one comment could just have me being like "I'm done with sharing about Jesus.".  Not wanting to go to Mass was unlike me. Wanting to leave the Communion line was terrifying. I just didn't trust myself to hold space for other people's opinions when I could barely hold space for my own feelings.

So what did I do (my hope is to help others by sharing my experience).

I tried everything I normally do. Daily readings on Hallow? Wasn't cutting it. Homilies? Going in one ear, out the other... turns out I heard last Sunday's completely wrong, and publicly SHARE ON IT.. so there's that. LMAO. Just doing the next indicated thing? Felt impossible.

And then, for shits and giggles, I asked Truthly.ai. I know, I know. I'm not a fan of AI for this kind of stuff. I think it's dangerous, and I much prefer to be led by the Holy Spirit, not a machine. But I was desperate and stuck and figured why not.

It was so helpful, tho.

It told me that what I was experiencing has a name. I cannot tell you how much I needed that. I needed something with a definition. Something that told me I wasn't broken or backsliding or being dramatic.

It's called Spiritual Aridity. 

And it reminded me that God is not absent in the dryness. That He is often doing His deepest work when He feels the most silent.

I needed to hear that. It also gave me specific Scripture readings, which felt like something tangible I could actually do in addition to still going to Mass (even when I didn't want to). Here's what it pointed me to:

Psalm 23, 27, 42, 63, 139. The Gospel of John, chapters 14 through 17. Philippians. 1 John.

I know faith isn't like depression or sobriety, but having been through journeys with both, this phase in my faith kind of feels like that. Logically, I know things. I know what's true. I know what God has done. I know He's not going anywhere. But doing the next indicated thing just feels HARD. And with depression and sobriety, we have research and evidence based practices to show us what does and doesn't work. With faith, we don't always have that same kind of roadmap, which makes seasons like this feel really isolating.

So I'm not sharing this to give any power to the enemy. I'm sharing it so that if or when you ever go through something like this, you have a name for it and some possible steps to help you get through it.

The only thing I think I'd do differently is talk to my pastor about it. But when you're in this state, you feel like a burden, and also like the whole thing is just so stupid (to me). So that's why I haven't. But I would absolutely encourage you to if you're going through it. Don't be like me on that one.

If you're in a dry season right now, I think I want to let you know.... You're not failing and you're definitely not alone. Keep your eyes on the cross and keep walking forward, even when everything in you wants to step out of line.

That's what I did. And I'm still here... can this be over yet?