John replied in the words of Isaiah the prophet, “I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way for the Lord.’”

John 1:23

 

John the Baptist had been testifying about Jesus and he was questioned by Jewish priests and Levites, puzzled by what he was proclaiming. “Who are you?” they asked.

He did not fail to confess, but confessed freely, “I am not the Messiah.” (John 1:20)

John’s was a voice of one calling in the wilderness. Calling to prepare for the coming of Jesus and to make straight the way—the valley and the mountain, the rough and rugged ground. God’s glory would be revealed.

I’m not John the Baptist, but I often feel like I have that voice—a small voice, trying to sound big and loud. Calling into a wilderness where ears are shut and eyes are blind. They have been, far too long. I too need to be listened to and heard. Because what I have to say is important. I believe it’s part of Christ’s message to us:

 

Who will hear?
Who will listen to God’s truth,
spoken through one living with mental illness.
Who will hear a child of God, someone not unlike you?
Who will give her a fair hearing?

Who?

Who will hear her voice?

 

  • I wrote to clear my name, to show I couldn’t help the way I was.
  • I wrote to show how I’d been hurt and what it did to me.
  • I wrote to show how discrimination hurts and how it needs to stop.

 

When a conflict arises and someone is hurt, why are those with mental illness thought to be responsible? Why is the person in authority  declared blameless, despite the testimony of the victim?

“Of course, she must have been the cause,” they say. “No question about it.”

Most commonly, only one truth is heard and respected. Only the person in authority is believed. But the person with mental illness is doubted, not trusted to tell the truth. And yet are they not of equal worth under God’s eyes? Aren’t they too, children of God?

Why not give us a chance to be heard?

marja