Timing

The past few days I've been working on writing out some difficult things. Because it's always crazy around here, making the time to write is tricky.

I didn't want to write in the morning, because I didn't want it to affect my entire day.

I didn't want to write at night because I didn't want to cause me not to sleep or to have bad dreams.

Any time between that is filled with crazy children, chores that are always behind, and a tired momma pulled into many directions.

Today I realized, that although each of these excuses have valid reasons, they are still just excuses. Reasons I give myself to walk away and not face the difficulty, which means I'm missing the blessing and growth in Christ that can come from having victory here.

Sometimes, timing is everything, and other times, timing is just an excuse.

Details

It never fails to fascinate me and put me in awe whenever I can see God working in the little things.

Yeah, He works in the big things, but we tend to notice those, especially if His working isn't what we would initially want.

In our crazy, busy, self-consumed world, we easily overlook the little things, which if we think about it, all those little things add up to the big things.

This past year I really wanted to focus on the little things. I needed to stop and take the time to see God in my everyday, all day, normal (is there such a thing as a mom??) routines and seemingly unimportant daily tasks and lists so that I could be reminded that where He has me, right here, at this exact place and time in my life, is exactly where He wants me.

I admit I don't focus on it enough. If I would, I wouldn't still struggle with so much discontentment.

That's another post for another day. ;)

Because my life is filled of little things pertaining mostly to little people (and if I want to be funny, my little house itself), I don't take time to see God in the little ways that He is changing and growing me to be more like Christ.

On the negative side, if He is trying to correct a wrong behavior or sin in my life, and I continually ignore the little promptings and encouragements, then He will bring the bigger changes in order to prevent me from falling further away.  Been there, done that, more than once (or twice), and if I was smart, wouldn't go there again. Consequences of my selfish, stubborn self that are not fun at all.

On the positive side, those little details He is in, is to show me how much He loves me. It's that simple. He only does what is best for me, and can only do good. As I've gotten better at noticing His hand in the little details, I've learned to immediately respond with 'Oh, how He loves us so!' It's from a song that touched (and continues to touch) my life deeply in regards to difficult circumstances I have faced.  The love He has for me has overwhelmed and consumed me and when I see it, I can only declare His unconditional love for me that I don't deserve in the least.

After writing my post yesterday, I was overwhelmed and hurt and fighting and frustrated that I was once again dealing with an issue I had taken care of.

You can't comment, 'well, maybe you didn't really take care of it,' because trust me, Jesus and I had an all out face to face meeting once upon a time and it was dealt with.

One thing I'm learning however, is that when an issue involves so much hurt, pain and details, even though the main part has been dealt with, there are a lot of leftover tentacles that can survive on their own and wreak havoc in their own way.  Sometimes they aren't even recognizable until other tentacles and obstacles are removed.

Kind of like a multi-layered dessert.  But not pretty or delicious.

Sorry, Christmas baking on my mind...

Where was I?

After my frustration yesterday morning (that had been coming to a head for a few weeks), God reminded me that this isn't one of those cut and dried issues. It's not something that can be taken care of with one fell swoop because it's a situation that developed over time and grew many nasty tentacles that caused their own damage.

When I initially took care of the main issue, that was the focus God wanted me to have. That was the big hurt that needed dealt with at that time and He was there and gave me everything I needed in order to face it and have victory.

Because He loves me, He didn't immediately start throwing all those tentacles at me to deal with. He gave me time to heal, time to process, time to grow more like Christ, and when the timing was perfect, He brought on one of those smaller layers to be dealt with.  He knew I would have to revisit the main issue, but since it had been taken care of, the wound was just a scar, with no chance of opening back up and causing pain. I could reach into what I learned from that and use it to help me fight the smaller issue without worrying about the sting it could cause again. Scars have no feeling themselves, just mental reminders and evidence of a wound healed.

I don't need to be frustrated that I'm dealing with this 'yet again,' because actually, I'm not.  I'm dealing with this part that came from that main issue, that has never been dealt with and needs to be so that I can grow to be more like Christ.

It isn't fun. It isn't easy. and Yes, I'd rather cut off my pinky toe with a spoon.  My tendencies to run away from difficult things (even physically run away), kicked into hyperdrive yesterday when I realized that right now is when He wants me to face and deal with this specific detail.

In my Bible study this morning, she had us go back and review a few specific things we had done two days ago.  We had had to write down three to five emotions that characterize our first experience when faced with conflict or stressful situations. One of mine was 'run away'.

Trust me, how I haven't ran away already is by God alone. I'm a runner... it's what I do. Well, not an athletic runner like has become so popular recently, otherwise I wouldn't be so overweight. ;)

Anyway, we then had to take those emotions and write down steps we can take to redirect those thoughts and emotions. When I got to 'run away' this is what I put down:

"God Himself brought me here and He doesn't want me to run away. Instead He wants me to stay and learn and grow in Him."

This was the day before He tore open my Christmas issues.

Not fair, God. Not funny either. He made sure I put a blocker in place of running away before He decided to help me work on Christmas.

I didn't know that was His plan at the time I wrote that, or trust me, I would've definitely given myself the out to run away. He knew that. And in His loving way, He was preparing me for the change and work He was going to do in me in order to help me grow to be more like His Son.

Oh, how He loves us so!

I wish I could end this with a declaration of how I spent yesterday working through and resolving this tentacle that has stung me for so many Christmas times, but I can't.

And that's okay.

God doesn't live in our 24 hour time periods. He doesn't set limits on time when it comes to growth. My human self wants to say I dealt with it in one day, or have the expectation that it was done in one day, but that isn't how God's timing works. He does a little here, a little there and makes sure along the way that it is really dealt with and healed and turning into a scar.

I can say I started dealing with it. I can say it was incredibly difficult... far more so than I thought it would be. I can say that today I woke up with the mental strength to continue, after reaching a point of mental exhaustion yesterday.

God is interested in my growth and permanent change, not in how quickly or slowly it gets done. It just needs to get done.

Today I wait for His prompting and timing and see where He takes me today in regards to this difficulty. He's in the details, because He loves me, and I just need to look for Him and follow His leading.

Seeking Peace

I'm sitting here typing this early in the morning, while it is still dark out. My lights in the house are out and the only lights on are the twinkling colored lights on our oversized Christmas tree.

It's my favorite thing of the Christmas season... lights.  I love lights on houses, lights on trees, colored lights, white lights, old fashioned lights, LED lights... even the houses that look like their toddlers put on their Christmas lights catch my attention, though my thoughts are slightly different when I look at those.

I absolutely love sitting in a dark room with a lit tree. There's something about it that brings me peace at a time of year that I struggle with the most.

I used to have one of those perfectly decorated, themed, beautiful trees. The tree was my favorite part of Christmas, so it had to be perfect.  This year, the tree is anything but...  and I still love it.

Okay, I don't exactly love it... yet... it's growing on me.

I let the kids do whatever they wanted with it this year... within reason. ;)  we didn't have a lot of ornaments, so we sat for a few hours (on and off) and made a paper chain. i didn't have Christmas colored paper, so instead, our chain is a beautiful mix of pinks, turquoises, oranges and a few other miscellaneous colors. At first, I hated it, simply because it wasn't 'Christmasy,' but it's growing on me.  The one dozen red and silver ornaments I did have, hang in a bunch on one side of the tree.  Randomly scattered is a half dozen of homemade kid ornaments they did in the past, which somehow survived the year in storage. And I can't forget the scattered lot of beanie babies perched on limbs, nesting near the center of the tree, or peering out from their hidden landscape of forest green.

Besides the lights, I do have my other favorite part up there: our family ornament. Every year since the year before Noah was born, we've gotten an ornament with our names and year written on it. It's very popular, but for me it's not the popularity I care about, it's the personalization.  This was us for that year. And every other year for the past seven years, our ornament has had a pregnant momma on there, announcing our newest blessing to come. This year is one of those years for a 'pregnant' ornament, but that tradition is broken.  No new baby coming our way next summer, like several are expecting to hear. (Although, the news became a 'cheap, easy gift' for grandparents that saved us money and shopping time...) ;)  It makes me sad, but it's okay.

Christmas is a very hard time of year for me and has been most of my life. Having kids has really changed that, because the focus became them and not me. As time goes on, old wounds continue to fade and the growing excitement of children allow me to not only tolerate this season, but to enjoy it. Although I still struggled slightly in the back of my mind, God allowed it to be covered and protected my heart.

This year, like always, I dreaded this season, but held on to the hope that once again my children and their joy would distract me. Things were going really well until one day last week and I was completely blindsided with hurt, pain, memories and torn open wounds.  I fell hard.

The thing that bothers me the most, isn't that it still bothers me (though that is very irritating and frustrating!). It's the fact that I don't think it's fair (ha) that it still bothers and affects me so deeply after I've dealt with it.  It was taken care of years ago, yet there are two separate times a year it still bothers me, with Christmas being the number one difficulty. My chest is heavy, my mind is distracted, my heart is aching, yet I'm at a loss as to what is really going on. Prayer and verses stay near because I know that's the first and most important thing.

I get the feeling there's something I'm supposed to learn that I've missed before and if I focus on my Father and keep my heart protected, He will teach me something amazing. I need to stop fearing and hating this season and instead listen and grow and use it for His glory.

And while I'm waiting, I'll continue to enjoy the peacefulness of the lights on the tree and the excited giggles of my littles waiting for Christmas morning...

AWOL

I've been without a computer for 12 days.

Twelve LONG days.

A lot has happened in those twelve days; some blog worthy, most not.

I've learned a few more things about myself.

I've learned a few more things about my depression.

It will definitely be good for me to get back to writing on here.

Maybe starting tomorrow....

A Non-Traditional Thanksgiving Post

I love to read. I don't do it much anymore, but I used to spend hours reading and reading. When the blog world came alive I found a few blogs I really enjoyed and kept up with. At times I also read the comments others have left on certain posts, which is sometimes more entertaining than the original post.

I've read enough blogs and comments to know that whenever a blog writer, no matter how deeply they are loved and admired, writes something that's a little against the flow (or a lot against the flow), the catch a lot of flack from their readers. Negative comments abound, even from those who have followed for a long time. There are still a few that defend, more that stay quiet. 

People have a right to their opinions, and those who write publicly have to expect that at some point they will receive negative responses. It's part of our eclectic, ever-changing society and unless one goes into hiding and complete hermit mode, we will all have to deal with negative opinions at some point in our lives.

If my blog was actually read by more than a handful, I'm pretty sure this post would end up with a lot of negative comments. I can read them in my head already: "stop being so negative and focus on the positive," "this is one day of the year only happy stuff should be posted," "get over yourself already."  I could keep going and be much more detailed, but why ruin it for anyone who really does what to respond with a similar reflection.

Today is Thanksgiving. Happy day of expressing all thankfulness for all the blessings we have. Happy Turkey Day. Happy Day when the Pilgrims came and started a genocide of the American Indians. These aren't actually my thoughts, just ones I've seen floating around on facebook this week.

This morning I've already seen the title to several blogs that read "What I'm most thankful for" and similar ideas. Today is the day where bloggers get to sing the praises of thankfulness and all they have.

I've always had issues with holidays. There are valid reasons, but there are also opinionated reasons for my dislike of national days of this or that.

I think part of my attitude comes simply from my rebellious nature. I'm definitely one who goes her own way, especially when I'm told to go another way. I'm definitely an in charge, in complete control kind of person. Yep, it's gotten me in a lot of trouble and I've somewhat learned to tame it, but it still gets the better of me often.

I don't need a national holiday of someone telling me to be thankful. I don't do the 30 day facebook posts of what I'm thankful for every day. I don't force my kids to sit at breakfast on this one morning and say what they are thankful for. Why not?

Because it is something I want for my everyday and their everyday, not just the focus on one day a year. 

Yes, I understand that even those who love this holiday and love the thankful posts feel the same way (or at least I hope so). Although there are those on my newsfeed (well, I usually block from my newsfeed) who complain and whine all year, then in November magically turn into the most thankful person on earth. I'm not even gonna start down that road.

I will say I am thankful for a day in which our nation lets us have a break and do whatever we want (within reason). Some people still work, some people go on vacation, some stay home alone, but whatever it is they choose, it's one of a few 'free' days that our nation recognizes as a break.

We get so caught up in our plans and being thankful that we often forget those who really struggle with days like today. Thanksgiving and Christmas are two of the most difficult holidays of the year. It doesn't help that the majority of the nation has been sun deprived during this time, resulting in a bent towards sadness and depression.

I really thought my struggle and negativeness towards this was just really tainting my view of the holidays until I read a post from someone yesterday about remembering all those who have a very hard time with Thanksgiving.  Whew, maybe I'm not completely stubborn and so submerged in depression that I'm delusional. 

I would hope those who come to mind first would be those who have nothing. I'm not talking about third world countries, I'm talking about right here, one street over, a few blocks away from where you live, there is someone without a home. There are those waking up in make shift tents and free shelters this morning, wondering if they will have a bed again tonight. It's not just individuals either. My husband is a teacher and over the years he's had many students who were living in shelters with their families. Families like mine, with innocent little kids, depending on a cot or two and the kindness of strangers to keep them safe and warm and fed. I know what it's like to miss meals in order for my kids to have enough to eat, but I can't imagine having no food or home to give them. The heartache and burden of those moms and dads must be so heavy. Even though today is one day they are guaranteed a free meal (if they go looking for one), it doesn't soften the blow of reality and what tomorrow will be like.

Kudos to those who spend today serving, helping, donating time, money and food in order to help these people. I've been one of them many times.  My hope is that for those one-timers who check off 'do a good deed' from their good person list will realize the need for their help every single day. To see these people as people just like themselves is my hope, because inside, we are all wanting and needing the same things. 

It may be their fault, but not always. Even so, it is never a child's fault for being in such a dire position.

How dare we ever judge anyone. We need to learn to simply love.

Besides those obviously needing remembered today, there are many, many more who get overlooked because they aren't blatant with the sadness today brings. They have homes, food, basic necessities or even extravagancies.  They may or may not have families to spend the day with. Those with no families but all the things need thought of today, no matter why they have no family. They will most likely turn down an invitation to your large family gathering, but that doesn't mean you can't call, drop by with a plate, spend half an hour talking with them or something else seemingly small that could encourage their hearts.

Don't judge. Show love.

There are also those surrounded by family and blessings galore, but whose heart hurts on this day for whatever reason. These are the most overlooked, because they have gotten good at pretending or hiding. They are easy to miss. They are friends. They are even family. 

Of all the days to show love, encouragement and care for everyone we meet, this holiday is one of them. Step outside of yourself, your traditions, your 'it's about me and us' attitudes and look for ways to be an encouragement to everyone you have contact with today. We don't need to understand, we have no right to judge and we don't need to know why.

We just need to love.

John 13:34 ~"...just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another..."

It's been a few days.

The day of my last post was a very, very bad day for me mentally.

I wasn't myself. I said several times that day, 'this isn't the real me.'

Days like that are scary, confusing and humbling. It's a reminder that there is something really wrong with me and because of that there are times when I'm not in control.

God put the perfect people in the perfect places and times throughout that day in order for them to help carry me through. That's the only reason I made it.

The next day was a dark day, swinging from the anxious, impulsive, self-destructive, angry person on Thursday to the melancholy, hopeless, stay on the couch all day person on Friday. God, in His perfect plan, took care of me again on that day.

The few days after that were just up and down, but to neither extreme. Finally, on Sunday evening I felt as if I was starting to level out.

I have no doubt this was caused by missing medication as well as starting a higher dose of medication. It's as if the medicine had to find my 'normal' and in doing so took me from one extreme to another.

I've sat down a few times to write in more detail about my meds, but it's not a subject I like to talk about. Maybe I'll eventually convince myself to do that. However, the end point is that I am thankful for them.

This week has been a bit strange as well. The higher dose has definitely taken away a lot of my normal reserves. I'm more outgoing, not anxious around people (or the idea of being around people), and definitely happier. It's been a feeling I haven't had for a long time. I'm also thinking quite clear, which is so wonderful after having such a fuzzy mind for so many months.

I wish I could say I was great and super and fixed! Not so.  The clearer thinking has showed me exactly where I'm failing, when I'm not thinking how I should, and the worst part is being aware of who I am and how I've been while staying under a cloud of not being able to change.

All of this just in time for the holidays. Yay.

Holidays and I don't mesh well. Thankfully, since having kids, Christmas has once again been joyful. We may not be able to buy and spoil and shower them with tons of gifts, but we make memories, new traditions, and enjoy being together as a family.

Thanksgiving I can do without. Well, the holiday, not actual thanksgiving. Ha. The last few years have just been... eh. This year... yep, let's just say I can do without it.

Maybe the blessing in disguise is that I am now on a higher dose of medicine just in time for the holidays. :) God's timing is perfect, right? :)

I don't like this post. I've been sitting here debating on posting or deleting. I didn't mean for it to be as negative as it is. At the same time, I don't care. I don't write for anyone but myself. I somehow have to figure out how to be a wife and mom while working through depression and whatever else may be mentally wrong (said half jokingly).  I'm leaving it, if for any reason, I can look back and pinpoint a pattern or whatever else that could help me someday.

Or I can use it when I finally get around to writing that book...

Off Kilter

There are some days I just want to be normal.

...or at least the same as the day before.

This is one roller coaster ride in which I want off...

I know I'm adjusting to being back on meds as well as a higher dose.

But that doesn't make this any easier...

Redirect

I should not be blogging this morning.

Usually I shouldn't be writing because I have mounds of laundry needing folded, dishes needed loaded/unloaded, floors needing swept, and junk needed sorted, organized, and pitched.

Although most of the above is true, I shouldn't be writing today because I'm in a very melancholy mood.

Several reasons behind it... The recurrence of the depression, that although never goes completely away, still fluctuates up and down, the past few days being all down. Also, the fact that I've been unmedicated for 3 days now. With the new medication, things go downhill quickly after 12 hours. I'm somewhere around hour 60.  **This isn't by choice, but by circumstances mostly out of my control** And of course, we are currently having a very difficult week in a few different areas of life, keeping the old adage alive of 'when it rains, it pours.'

These three things make a nasty stew of negative emotions, exaggerated drama and falsehoods that appear true.

***The above was actually written on Tuesday, November 19th. I deleted the rest of this post before posting publicly. Although that may highly irritate those of you out there with the constant need to know, it just wasn't something needing shared and most importantly, nothing beneficial.  However, because I want this blog to be a true representation of myself and my constant battle and journey with depression, I wanted to leave in the preface to show how I'm thinking when things are way at the bottom. I wanted to be truthful about what was most likely causing my mood. It's especially important because I had been unmedicated at this time and although I have a strong dislike for my meds, it shows the importance of them in a brain that isn't functioning correctly. My apologies for it being an uninteresting post. I'll have another soon, I'm sure. :)***

The Importance of Accountability

Accountability has always been an important word in my life.

It's also a word I greatly dislike.

For decades, I've had people keeping me accountable for different things, sometimes by choice, other times not by choice. Every single time I squirm and fuss and fight and whine, because there's just something about accountability that irritates me.

I finally figured out what it is...

The definition of accountability is "an obligation or willingness to accept responsibility or to account for one's actions."

When I'm accountable, it means I'm responsible for my actions. That's not what bothers me. 

Take it one step further, and when I constantly fail at being accountable to myself, then it's common to ask someone else to help by holding me accountable. 

If *I* can't do it, then I have to depend on someone else.

I have a strongly independent personality. I will often say that I don't need people. I'm the oldest, was an only child for 8 years, I'm very stubborn and strong-willed, and I learned early on that other people only hurt me not help me. So I don't need people.

Yes, I know, it's a complete lie.

God didn't make us to be alone. He created us with the desire to have relationships with others. Saying I don't need those relationships goes against my inner most being. No matter how much I try and fight it. When I do fight it and become a hermit, pulling away from society and even my hubby and kids, life turns miserable. Sometimes I do it by choice, other times it comes with the territory of depression. Either way, it isn't healthy at all.

Now, let me interject here to say I don't think this way for other people. I never want people to pull away and be alone, no matter what their reasoning. I will push and push my way in until I'm sure that person is okay. I don't have to be the friend they choose to be close to, but as long as they have someone and not living in seclusion, then I will back off. Because it's something I know we were made for, I want to make sure others have relationships. They deserve friendships no matter how they are feeling or what they may think.

After this past year and a half of severe depression, finally coming to terms with it and having a desire to claw my way out, I've realized that I can't do it alone. I have to have people in my life who can keep me accountable in different areas. I know I'm too weak and in the healing process, and I have to let go of the stubbornness and have others help me.

Even if I don't like it.

Deep down I know that even if I don't like the circumstances surrounding accountability, I do like the friendship.

Accountability also works well for me because I don't like being a failure to someone else. Failing myself is one thing, failing others is a BIG deal and NOT acceptable to me at all. 

I've let go of my stubbornness and pride and finally asked for accountability from a few I knew would be willing to help me. I've asked for accountability for memorizing Scripture, for getting housework done, for not allowing the depression that has come back full force over the weekend to swallow me again.

I have to accept that my mind isn't strong enough right now to fight on my own. If I want to be victorious in the battle with depression and learn to enjoy and love life, then I have to accept help from others. Because I'm so good at hiding, it also means I have to step out and ask for that help. 

I have to remember, I won't be in this place forever. There will be times I won't need the accountability, but I need to remember, I will always need the people...

...because we were created for relationships...

WARNING: do not read if you offend easily

An atheist, a lesbian, and a Christian all walk into a room...

It sounds like the opening to some offensive, usually vile, joke doesn't it? For those of you waiting for the punchline, there isn't one.

This was actually how I spent my afternoon.

If you're a Christian, and still reading because you weren't offended, thank you. If you're an atheist or lesbian and you're still reading, thank you. I'm needing much understanding and grace on this blogpost, because I am in no way claiming I know all or that my opinions or viewpoints or preconceived ideas won't get me into trouble.

I spent the afternoon with my third born at a friend's house. My friend is an atheist. She had a few other friends over, one who is a lesbian. 

It was a moment in which I knew the importance of my attitude and actions. I could be the modern Superchristian and show obvious disdain for the views represented, been judgy and rude, and show myself as the obvious best one of them all because *I* was a Christian OR I could be loving and kind, knowing that although I didn't agree and do not believe the same way, that I had been (still am) a sinner who has been rescued.

This is something that's been in my head the past week, after spending several hours last week with this friend who is an atheist. She and I met last year, soon after the birth of our youngests, who are only two weeks apart. Our friendship grew and we got along (and laughed a lot) every time we were together. Somewhere in the springtime, I learned she was an atheist. She already knew I was a Christian. It was an interesting, eye opening moment for me.

I openly admitted to her that I didn't agree with her, and that I didn't understand her decision, but that I had honestly never been friends with an atheist. I told her I had some questions for her and since then we occasionally have a conversation of beliefs. She is very respectful to me, despite strongly disagreeing with me, and the same is returned. I told her that I have no intention of hurting her with flippant, ignorant words and if I did to please confront me and talk with me about it.  Her opinion of the 'religious,' as she calls me, is they are high nosed, snotty, better than everyone people and that anyone who disagrees with them is instant hell bait with no chance of reconciling. 

Of course, by their standards atheists don't even have a chance with God.

I wish I could say I was surprised at her thinking towards Christians, but I'm not. Many Christians put themselves so far above others, thinking that they were 'worthy enough' for God to save them, but not everyone else is as worthy.

"Only a sinner, saved by grace." The words to a hymn I've known since childhood immediately enter my head.

I've told her in no way do I believe myself better than she. I also told her if I ever acted that way to call me out on it.

I care about her, and I treat her as I treat my Christian friends (and other God believing, non-Christian friends). 

Do I agree? No. Do I think she needs Jesus? Yes.  Do I think offending her as a person is the way to show her Jesus' love? No. Do I tell her I think she's wrong? No. She knows I don't believe her thinking is right, that I still believe she needs Jesus and she even knows I pray for her. And even though she isn't 'okay' with it, she doesn't tell me not to. Would her response be the same if I spent my time being judgmental and preachy at her? I don't think so.

Jesus met people where they were. He taught them truth right where their sinful hearts were. He loved them in spite of their unbelief.

If only I could follow His example.

My atheist friend and I had a good time together. I also made a new friend as I got along really well with her friend who was a lesbian. Since the labels are being thrown out, I'm a Christian. 

**My intention isn't to label anyone, but in order to keep names out of this post, I'm using them for descriptive purposes only**

Before you misunderstand, I'm NOT saying we should all live together in harmony. I'm saying we can't reach people where they are if we aren't willing to go where they are. They need the love of Jesus and need to see it in me. 

I welcome any comments, but will delete any I find inappropriate. Thanks. :)

Normal

I've had a few blog posts rolling around in my head the past week, but I've been enjoying some resemblance of normalcy around here with a hubby working less, big projects getting attention, and family time a priority (since it's rarely all 6 of us anymore).

I also should be doing dishes and folding laundry right now, but that will be here forever and the words in my head won't.

Now the challenge is deciding which thought pattern to follow, so this could be an interesting post full of ramblings and sudden changes in direction.

The depression I've been dealing with and fighting, especially over this past year, has started to ease up.  I'm having equal days of good and bad, instead of mostly bad. I can now also pinpoint when the depression is going to hit harder and am able to take steps to keep it from getting as bad as it could.

The problem now lies in my heart more than my head.  I've been fighting a lot of rebelliousness this past week, and although I know when I'm headed downhill, I often refuse to take the necessary steps to prevent it and instead choose to do stupid, impulsive things.

Some days I wonder if I will ever get it.

Some days I wonder if I'll ever be normal.

I know, 'normal' has a wide spectrum in it's definition, but I often feel I'm not even close.

I get really irritated and frustrated with myself when I see myself responding with rebelliousness.  But now, as I take a step away from it all to write out my thoughts, I can easily see a pattern in my life.

In the hardest times of my life, despite how I felt, I knew God was there and in control. As I waded through the bad, hanging on to the last thread in the rope, I knew it would be okay and that this was somehow for my good. This was perfecting me and making me more like Christ. Whatever the situation was, it was going to be used for His glory.

As the situations would improve, and the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel began shining, instead of being thankful He had pulled me through and excited about the outcome and 'ease of life' that was coming, I would get angry. My anger would always turn into rebelliousness, which although a sin in itself, would lead to a blatant sin of some sort, which would then turn into needing disciplined and corrected until I was finally broken.

Really?

It makes no sense at all why I would bring that on myself every single time. Every time I had been victorious in a trial, I followed it up by sin and brokenness. My attitude just doesn't fit with the victory I was given.

Every time I was able to climb out of the valley and up the mountain to a beautiful view, I chose to climb into the deep, dark crevices off to the sides of the mountain and stay and fight until I was dragged out.

I think it is deep-seated in the mindset that I don't feel as if I deserve the goodness that comes with being victorious in a trial.  I do everything I can to sabotage the goodness right before I reach it.

It makes no sense.

[[and yes, I know technically I don't deserve anything good, and that it's by God's grace alone I'm allowed to experience the good]]

This time around, I've taken the time to see this pattern and know what's coming, and I'm wondering if my choices will be different.

Weightless

I went to sleep last night with a heavy heart.  Despite spending a lot of time in prayer that evening, both for myself and others, I felt distant from my Father.  I had angry tears in my eyes as I tried to close them and go to sleep.

The dance with my bad memories had lasted longer than expected.

I thought I was free from their grip. I had claimed freedom! I had tasted freedom... yet my heart ached.

Getting to the point of freedom years ago was a very difficult road. If I wasn't free, then I was lost as to what to do.

I fell asleep asking God to show me what else I needed to do because I wanted victory in this once and for all.

While up during the night, dealing with my babies and walking deliriously through my kitchen, my eyes fell on these words I had stuck on my fridge earlier in the day:

YOU ARE ALREADY FREE.

My usual response to God at that moment would to be sarcastic. Being too tired to think, I simply read it again and walked away.

When I got up this morning (for the final time... ha), something was different. I went about the start of my normal routine and I kept coming back to the fact that I was feeling different physically. While making my lovely cup of coffee, I realized my chest felt lighter. My first thought was, "that's totally weird," then it hit me: the weight is gone.

Now, if you know me in real life, you know I'm quite overweight and definitely have some weight to lose. However, and slightly to my dismay, it wasn't that kind of weight.

My heart wasn't being crushed by a heaviness anymore.

It stopped me and I then slowly transferred that to my mind (mornings aren't my thing).

The hurt was gone. I actually had to think through the list of things that had been weighing on me lately until I finally realized those bad memories and all the hurt associated with them had been removed from my mental filing cabinet of things needing dealt with. I took a deep breath and allowed my mind to look at that file and those memories and sure enough, they were distant now and unable to bring me pain.

I took a deep breath, hoping my realization was true and I saw again on my fridge these words:

YOU ARE ALREADY FREE.

I had been free from them before, but allowed my humanness to focus on the fear, worry and distrust instead of focusing on my Father Who had already set me free. Somewhere in the night, in my tired, vulnerable state, I had accepted His word as truth and freedom reigned.

Those memories were now weightless. Never would I have to dance in fear with them again.

John 8:36~"So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed."

A Dance with Memories

She stared at the picture on her phone quietly. It had been fourteen months in the process; a long year of hard work, long distance trips, cleaning, sorting, and hours of entertaining children in an empty house.

The last few months she hadn't been a part of the process. Life didn't work out that way and she was stranded in another state, in another lifetime, physically and emotionally separated from the final details.

Over and over those last few months she had heard the words, "whenever we get it ready to sell." They were repeated so often that they were merely words that held little weight. Even the week before it seemed an eternity away before the last details caused the phone call to be made, the sign to be placed, the keys relinquished, and the picture to unexpectedly arrive on her phone.

At first, there were no emotions. She was one to hide emotions, to bury them, to keep them tied down as much as possible, for nothing good ever came from them. As she stared at the sign, memories slowly began creeping back into her mind. Memories begging for attention for what might be their last appearance in her mind, as they knew this meant this would close out that chapter of her life and they may never have the chance to dance again.

Memories of her dad came first. This had been his home. This had been his last home. Despite it being eight years since his passing, she could still see him sitting in the white, plastic lawn chair every time she turned into the long drive. There he sat, waiting for whomever, with his arms folded across his belly and his wild, curly black hair waving in every direction. After he died, that chair sat there for a very long time. Even after it was gone, it was forever etched in that place and would appear when her memory collided with reality.

Her heart then ached for her little sister, who had lived in the house her entire life. She remembered the day the blanketed bundle arrived home from the hospital, screaming her big, bald head off. From that day on, it was always more her sister's home and she wondered how her sister's heart was feeling.

Random good memories then took over, taking her back to a five year old child, seeing the house for the first time. The memories began coming faster and jumbled, time jumping the three decades she had known the house.

When they slowed, her smile stayed behind.

Then the good memories stopped and as hard as she tried to distract herself into her present day responsibilities and ignore what she knew was coming, she was quickly clouded with the memories she had often prayed she'd forget.

She had settled the matter years before with God. He had taken her broken life and pieced it into a beautiful picture that only He could do. Forgiveness reigned and anger died.  Yet as much as she asked, the memories had never been taken away.  Although they didn't hold power over her the way they used to, they still affected her deeply. As they danced their dark dance into her mind and threatened her heart and stability, she was torn between fighting them off and facing them hopefully one last time.

In her eyes, the timing was horrible. She was barely surviving life at the moment and was torn between giving up the life she had or walking away into the unknown. She didn't have the strength to dance with the bad memories now. She feared they would then overtake her with their darkness and she would be lost again.

She became angry at the unfairness of their creeping in and felt as if the freedom she had claimed years before was being thrown cruelly in her face.

"I'm supposed to be free from this!" she yelled.  Angry tears flooded her eyes. She tossed her phone on the counter and began days of being filled with wild emotions, raw pain, and tiredness.

Three days later her phone went off again. She reluctantly read the message, knowing she may end up throwing her phone across the room. Instead, she read these words:

                       "The first showing was yesterday. Today those same people made an offer and we accepted it. The house is now sold."

The words stung at first, perhaps because all the good memories had winced and feared definite extinction. She reassured them that she was keeping them as long as she possibly could.

Then a peace came to her, as she realized those bad memories that continued to hold her hostage could now be let go. The place in those memories weren't a part of her life anymore and the claws of the bad memories loosened yet again.

God had freed her heart of the pain years ago.

Now He had freed her mind.

Freedom

I woke up today with the word 'freedom' on my mind.

It's a theme God has been using on me the past few weeks; reminders here and there of ways He has freed me in the past and encouragement that He can free me now.

I have a lot of resistance and reluctance to the option of being free. It makes absolutely no sense.

Hundreds of years ago, what slave wouldn't have gladly taken the option of freedom? They might have chosen to stay where they were and continue what they were doing, but with a new mindset that they were FREE. It would be a different life.

What prisoner in the local jail wouldn't run as fast as possible if suddenly taken to the door and told they were free?  It would deeply affect their life even if they didn't deserve it.

What addict wouldn't be forever grateful if they were suddenly healed and free from an addiction that had been destroying their lives? If they were given a better replacement for their choice, why wouldn't they take it?

My last example hits home for me because I've been an addict before. By nature I have high addictive tendencies. One addiction He freed me from a decade ago, yet I still find myself struggling. However, He freed me and I have no reason to want to choose that over Him. However, because of the selfish way my mind works, I still struggle.

He's freed me from a situation that harmed me in many ways. A situation that so much horribleness came from, yet when He freed me, I could see His hand and give Him all the glory. I could learn to be thankful because of this situation and use it for Him instead of giving Satan the satisfaction of ruining another life.

Every single time I've been in a place of sin, whether my sin or someone else's, He's given me a way out. He's allowed me to find a path to freedom. I've seen I Corinthians 10:13 played out in my life over and over: "No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. But God is FAITHFUL and will not allow you to be tempted more than you can handle, but with the temptation will give you a way to escape so you will be able to bear it."

There have been times I chose to ignore that path and continue in my sin, and I am extremely thankful that He didn't just let me go. He had to break me completely before I turned to Him. That stubborn heart I carry inside me has caused some deep injury several times.

I must enjoy being miserable. I must enjoy being in pain and suffering through situations that I've either caused or choose not to get out of. Otherwise I would make the right choice sooner. Again, it makes absolutely no sense.

'O ye of little faith' immediately comes to mind.

My chains this time are different than those dejected situations and chosen addictions. I see those as obvious things that can be fixed. Someone hurts you; get away from them. Chosen addiction; seek help and step away.

The battle I'm having with my own brain seems too elusive to fix.

If there was something physically wrong with my brain, such as a tumor or infection, then yes, that would be an 'easy' fix.  Some days I actually think this would be easier than the mental torture of my mind itself.

When it's an issue with my mind, my feelings, my control, it seems too far out there to be fixable.

Yes, there are medications. On them.

Yes, there are psychiatrists/psychologists who will charge me $$$ to simply listen to me. I don't trust them.

Yes, there is shock therapy.  Haha, okay, you get my drift.

Because it feels like something that isn't easily pinpointed, I don't feel fixable. I can't fix me, and that is hard for me to accept because my personality is I'm a fixer of all people.  No one else can fix me. People (who aren't professionals) don't know how to deal with people who aren't normal. They tend to ignore, overlook, or bully those who are different.

If I follow this flow chart I've made, then that leads me to this thought: then God can't fix me either.

In case you're wondering if He just rained fire and brimstone on me, He didn't. I'm still here. He knows my heart is weak and my mind is hurting and even more, He knows deep down I don't really believe that statement.

He CAN fix me.

In fact, I'm already fixed.

I had forgotten that until a friend reminded me.

One thing she said that has stuck out in my mind is that 'fixed doesn't mean perfect.'

I will NEVER ever be perfect while here on earth. Trying to achieve perfection is futile and to be upset because it can't be achieved is ludicrous.

Instead of expecting my brain to work perfectly and 'normally', I need to accept that He has created it with this 'flaw' for whatever reason.  Although there are negatives associated with this flaw, it doesn't mean I can't learn to live positively with it and even more, it doesn't mean I can't use it for His glory.

Mental diseases are greatly overlooked, ignored, misdiagnosed and even condemned in the Christian world. I've mentioned before that it is often seen as a sin issue and result of not walking with God the way we should. Christians who struggle with this live a constantly condemned life, full of confusion and hurt.

If I let God do whatever He wills through this and realize I CAN be free of the negative behavior and life, then maybe, just maybe, He can use me to help someone else who is struggling.

Even the great Paul in the Bible was given a thorn in his side that God chose not to remove, despite Paul's begging. When Paul accepted that (whatever it was), he expresses the freedom he found and although we don't know what it was, I'm sure it was then used for God's glory.

I am already free.

Galatians 5:1~"For freedom Christ has set us free; therefore keep standing firm and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery."

I am already rescued.

Colossians  1:13~"God has rescued us out of the power of darkness..."


I need to stop fighting. I need to accept my freedom. I need to trust Him more.

Psalm 91:14-16~"Because you love me, I will rescue you. I will protect you because you know My name. When you call to me, I will answer you. I will be with you when you are in trouble. I will save you and honor you. I will satisfy you with a long life. I will show you how I will save you."

Another Fight

Friday was another mentally rough day for me.

The day itself was routine. No obvious reason for me not to have it together.

However, I knew God was trying to get my attention.

And I was fighting. Like my normal stubborn self I was refusing to give in and listen to Him.

It makes no sense. I know He is the only one that can help me through this time. He is the One who created me, who created my brain this way, and although I don't understand why, I need to accept that He has a purpose for the mental struggles I face.

So why wouldn't I just stop fighting and listen?

Friday was a busy day and in the evening I had a table at an open house hosted by several ladies in my church. I had a surprisingly good time (I'm quite awkward in social situations), but my hard heart was weighing me down.

I received a text during the open house that the little baby girl I watch, who was currently in the hospital, wasn't doing well. I left the open house early in order to make it to the hospital before visiting hours were over. I made it with 10 minutes to spare, but the guards had already logged out the workers and refused to let me in.

I left the hospital very angry, determined NOT to go home and was having a wonderful conversation with God about how I was sick of this whole mental issue and why couldn't I be normal and telling Him I was done and that I couldn't and wouldn't do it anymore.

Then the song that's been stuck in my head for a week came on. "Lord, I need you".

so. not. funny.

Yet so like my God Who loves me beyond what I can fathom.

I knew He was giving me an out to my current choice. It was a gentle but obvious way of bringing my thinking back to reality, to where it needed to be... on Him.

I knew my next decision was an important one. I wanted to do something I knew was wrong.

I whispered to Him, "I just can't go home."

When I said that, I completely expected the wrath of God to come down and eliminate me at that moment. Here He had shown me His love, showed me He was right there, showed me I didn't HAVE to sin, and I responded to Him with an 'Okay, BUT..."

It was the honesty of my heart coming out. At that moment, I could not go home.

Maybe that was for the best too.  With the way I was acting, I certainly didn't need to be around my sweet kiddos during loud, chaotic bedtime. It wouldn't have been a good thing. I've become a short tempered yeller this past year, and I HATE it.

Instead of feeling condemned for my out loud confession, I felt as if God was telling me it was okay. It was okay to not want to go home at that moment. But I DID need to do something that wasn't going to cause me to sin.

There really is only one friend I would call during a time like that and I knew she was unavailable at that time. My friendships are few and close friendships are fewer. That's another post for another time.

So I took a leap and reached out to one of those few close friends. Our friendship was made a little stronger the weekend before at our church retreat and I knew she wouldn't preach at me.

It meant I also had to make a phone call, which is NOT an easy thing for me, even to a friend. She answered and I tripped over my words trying to explain without giving details and sounding quite dumb I'm sure. She invited me over because she was unable to leave and I went, simply because I knew this was my way out of my current thought process.

There was no judging, no questions really, and we had coffee and good conversation. A few hours later, when my heart was settled and I was too tired to think, I left.

He had given me an out. He had given me this friend. He had protected me.  Despite my whiny, bratty, ungrateful self, He showed His love to me again by preventing me from sinning far more than I already had.

I've been quiet in my heart and mind since Friday.  I've been more open to listening to Him and my fight level has dropped. I need to spend time with Him, paper, and pencil and start working through what is keeping me from currently living for Him.

Caged Bird

Caged Bird by Maya Angelou

The free bird leaps

and floats downstream

till the current ends

and dips his wings

in the orange sun rays

and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks

down his narrow cage

can seldom see through

his bars of rage

his wings are clipped and

his feet are tied

so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings

with fearful trill

of the things unknown

but longed for still

and his tune is heard

on the distant hill 

for the caged bird

sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze

and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees

and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn

and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams

his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream

his wings are clipped and his feet are tied

so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings

with a fearful trill

of things unknown

but longed for still

and his tune is heard

on the distant hill

for the caged bird

sings of freedom.

Diverged

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;	5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,	10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.	15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I first memorized The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost as a freshman in high school. We memorized many poems in Lit class that year, and I loved most of them.  This one has always stuck with me, and whenever a time in my life comes up where big decisions need to be made, the last three lines of the last stanza ALWAYS come to mind.

Whatever decision I make right now will make all the difference in my life.

Interestingly enough, there are only a few of those 'big decisions' that I've ever looked back on and taken time to see the difference.  Reflection never seems to work out well for me, so I choose to not do it. But if I took the time to see what came of my decisions and what possibly could have came from the second choice, I know I could see God's hand leading and guiding.

Once again this poem was in my mind over and over throughout the day yesterday.  I feel like I am at another crossroads.  Or as I'm sure Robert Frost meant, I'm at a fork in the road. One path is well worn by those before me and will most likely be the easier path while the other is covered in a layer of brush and growth and causes the future to be unknown. I look at them both and wonder why it's a difficult decision.  

I especially wonder why it's a difficult decision when I feel as if I've been on the overgrown path for so long. It's not easy in any way to be different in this world. I am a different person than most, I am a Christian in a lost world, I have stayed married to the same man for almost 14 years, we have many children and would like more, I stay at home with our children, and to put the weird cherry on top, I even homeschool. In today's society, I'm on a path that is way far out in space. I've been on the difficult path according to society and the push continues to get me onto the easy path with the rest of the world.

I really could go into an in depth literary analysis of the poem compared to my personal experience and view, but that's not really my point here.  My point is I have a decision to make.

I've been plagued with a lot of negative feelings the past few months towards my life as a whole. I had only shared part of these feelings with my hubby and part with a friend until this past weekend when I shared with a few other close friends while at our ladies' church retreat. These feeling are shameful and hurtful, yet weigh on my heart so much, when in turn makes me feel guilty and makes me want to keep them hidden.

This morning, the poem and conflicting feelings were on my heart first thing. I didn't want to go down the futuristic paths of 'what if', knowing pretty much the way one of them would go. I didn't want to think about it anymore. I didn't want to make a decision, but instead ignore it all like usual (because that always works out, right?). I wanted to close my eyes and bury my head and just forget... just not be at this place in my life anymore.

At God's perfect timing, I received a very unexpected text from an unexpected person saying they were praying for me today. Completely out of the blue from someone who doesn't know my current struggles.

Another perfect example of God's perfect orchestration in my life.

It calmed my heart and mind enough to think more rationally and I began going over things slower and with a more realistic view.

I then saw the poem differently.  

It seems as if there is an 'easy' path and a 'difficult' path; one choice or the other choice. I've already said I feel like I've been on the difficult path my whole life and I would love to jump over to that easier path even for a little bit.

Then a thought struck me: what if I've actually already been on the easy path lately? Despite the many challenges I've been facing, this could still be the easy path. Just because the path is worn and well traveled doesn't make it problem free. There are still wolves and bears, rivers to cross, mountains to climb, and many more people with differing thoughts to encounter.  Easy doesn't mean problem free.

What if I've been on that easy path, when in fact I should be on the difficult one? What if God had presented me with the fork in the road a few months back, and I took the wrong path for whatever reason. Most likely I chose the path out of my own will and desires instead of consulting Him. Perhaps pride made it seem as if I was choosing the 'difficult' path, but in reality I had chosen the easier because I made my problems bigger than they really were.

What if because of this decision, I had caused my own discontentment? All the struggle and fighting and negative feelings I've had were all caused because I chose not to follow the path He chose for me. It may have looked more difficult at that decision making moment, but my choices have caused such heartache that in turn the easier path has become the more difficult one.

Like Robert Frost says, the chances of getting back to those exact crossroads is nearly impossible. I can't go back to that point where I had those two exact roads to choose. 

But now I have two new roads and one big decision.

The choice shouldn't be as difficult as I'm making it...

Just Keep Walking

Last night I had the privilege to be home with only my youngest. My sweet hubby took the older 3 to my son's cub scout meeting in order to give me a little down time (although I'd probably get more down time with the oldest 3 together than #4 alone!). ;)

I SAT on the couch, with NO GUILT. The dishes were caught up, I only had 2 loads of laundry to fold and put away, and the 3 main rooms of the house actually looked good. 

As I sat there, I was restless and so was my toddler. I had no desire to turn on the TV, no desire to sit at the computer, and miraculously, no desire to even play on my phone. BUT WHY?? I actually had the guilt free opportunity to do it, yet didn't want to.

A thought came to me to take my little bit for a walk in the stroller.  I usually keep the stroller in the van, but just so happened to have it in the living room in order to fit something in the van to deliver to someone. 

This began a conversation and battle in my mind, that has made me chuckle several times since then.

The conversation went something like this (all in my head):

        "I really should take her for a walk. I need the exercise and she needs a different view."

        "But I'd have to change my clothes. I would have to find her a hat. I'd have to put the dog away. That's too much to do."

        "It would be good for me though. It would be good for her. I don't have to go far."

        "But what if I run into someone I know? I'm not wanting to feel socially awkward right now."

        "Oh, just go!"

        "Ugh. Okay, but only if I can walk to the corner first and get a bottle of water."

        "Fine. Whatever motivates you to get out of the house, then just do it!"

This went on for about 5-10 minutes, arguing back and forth with myself. I even called myself a liar at one point then snorted at myself for thinking that.

>>and NO, I don't feel crazy for having this conversation. Everyone talks to themselves, even if they don't ever admit it. ;) <<

I DID end up taking her for a walk. Once I was out of the house, I was fine. We walked to the corner gas station, then walked for 45 minutes around the neighborhood. It was the longest walk I'd had in over a year.

That's sad.

Honestly, it was only the 4th or 5th time I'd taken her for a walk ever in her 14 months.  Thankfully my hubby takes the kids for a walk 1-2 times a week without me, or she would never know what a stroller is. 

It's not because I'm lazy. In fact, I LOVE walking. We used to hike and walk for hours at many different parks. My stroller used to know the sidewalks of my neighborhood by heart because we were out there every single day.

It's because I'm paralyzed. Mentally paralyzed with fear of the outside world. It makes no sense to me. Yes, I'm and introvert and shy and awkward, but until this past year and half, I've never experienced paralyzing fear and anxiousness about leaving the house. So much so that I rarely leave the house, even to go on a short walk around my neighborhood. 

This past year I've spent more time in my house than I ever have. I remember weeks at a time in which I didn't even step foot outside my door. 

I don't understand it. 

I'm thankful for the 'fight' I had with myself and that I did convince myself to go last night. I had a great time. It was my perfect weather (super cool), baby loved it, and I felt so much better mentally and physically when I got home.  Maybe this fight is the start of breaking free from whatever has me chained in my home.

Oh, and yes, I did run into someone I know. Our mail lady, who is actually a good friend of mine, was at the gas station chatting since she just finished her route. And you know what? I didn't have a heart attack or mental breakdown, instead I enjoyed talking to her. Imagine that. :)

Pathless

Doesn't seem like it's been a week since my last post.  This last week flew by and was so packed and busy.

I'm sure some of you were probably thinking 'she must be doing great since she hasn't been whining and lamenting on her public blog'. ;)  

Although I did have a better week for the most part, my silence was because of the hecticness of the week.  

Actually, when I'm doing okay, I write.  It's when I'm not doing well at all that I'm silent.  Hence the extreme lack of posts over the past year.

This past week I was able to focus and concentrate more in general. I was able to function well, and better than I have in a while. I had several great days in a row where I felt like a 'normal' 35 year old mom and wife. Usually I feel way behind my peers with no hope to ever catch up.

Because of this clearness of mind, I was able to spend time trying to figure out what is wrong with me.

Don't laugh.

 :)

There has to be something physiologically WRONG with me. There has to be something going on in my brain (or more likely NOT going on in my brain). 

I know I struggle with situational depression. I believe everyone does at some point. It behaves as it sounds: the worse the situation, the worse the depression, and vice versa. When the situation improves, depression improves. Now, it CAN develop into major depression, but still is easier to treat than clinical depression.

I have plenty of reasons, i.e. situations, to be depressed over right now. Thankfully I've learned to run to my Father when this type of discouragement sets in. When I adjust my attitude towards my situation and see it through His eyes, I have no reason to be depressed. He only does what is best for us.

I've been doing some research (one of my nerdy fave things to do!) and have been overwhelmed with the information that is out there. There are so many types and names for depression and causes based on everything from general sadness to brain malfunctions.  It's crazy!

um, no pun intended there. ;)

When I look at my own history, I can pinpoint the lowest times. Those times when I was suicidal and hopeless. In recent years, the hardest times have been after the birth of both of my daughters. After my sons I was the best I've ever felt, but the girls have been incredibly difficult to mentally recover from. It had nothing to do with the child specifically either. Okay, well with my second daughter I'm sure she has been part of it. ;)

When I mentioned this to my doctor, she found it quite odd. I've had a few doctors tell me that it shouldn't make a difference. However, since I'm not a big truster of doctors, I've started researching that aspect.

Which also leads me down the road to hormonal imbalance. This, I believe, is genetically inherited, as I've seen many of my aunts, cousins, second and third cousins (or whatever they're technically called) suffer with similar things. Even concentrating back on my childhood I can see them in my mom as well, who was supposedly the 'happiest' of the bunch.  

In order to find this out, I would have to have a series of blood tests that test the levels of different hormones. 

Yeah, I'm sure our insurance covers that. Ha.

The more I researched, the more I was convinced I have a brain tumor in the part of my brain that controls hormones and mood (hypothalamus).  I wish I was being sarcastic here, but I was tempted at one point last week to beg for a cat scan of my brain.

I'm scrambling and trying to figure out a direction to take or explore before the darkness settles in again.  I'm also tracking recent patterns to see if there's a specific time frame or rotating pattern in which the worst occurs. So far it's too jumbled and inconsistent.

I've come to a point where I do NOT at all want to live this way anymore. I'm tired of it controlling me and causing me to miss so much joy in life. 

For those of you praying, this would be a request from me. Pray God leads me down the path that takes me to complete understanding and healing, and to be willing to step out of my comfort zone and do whatever is necessary.

Disagreement

I've had my next 'writing therapy' rolling around in my head the past few days, slowly taking shape as I continue to work through the issues surrounding my depression and mental incapabilities. Things have smoothed over for the most part and the past week has been mostly good. I've been able to keep my mind under control and this has prevented downward spirals that can happen.

I've commented a few times in the past how 'Christians' and 'happy' are forced together.  In the Christian world, if you aren't happy, something is wrong in your spiritual life. I agree with this on some levels. When my spiritual self is starving, the evidence is seen in an increase in sinful behavior, mainly selfishness. Therefore to restore my attitude to a happy one, I need to feed my spiritual self.

However, I also disagree.  And this is hard for me to say, because I've always been preached at concerning happy=Jesus and feeling less when I'm not happy.

There is a physiological reason behind our moods. A part of our brain that controls these emotions. Hormones that work for or against us in how we feel. When these things are out of whack, so is how we act and feel and behave.  Even though in our minds we know the truth, when it is being attacked on every side by physical reactions, acting on the truth is nearly impossible.

Our pastor got up on Sunday to preach, and one of the first statements he made was this: "How happy you are is a direct reflection of how well you know Christ."

Really, God? I was only toying with the idea of confronting this and here I was going to have to listen to an entire sermon on this, the whole time arguing with my pastor in my head, feeling guilty for disagreeing, and feeling like I must not know Christ at all the way things have been lately.

I will interject here in a huge way by saying I am very thankful for our pastor, and I respect him and the way God uses him in our church. He strives to be the man God wants him to be and relies on God's Word in every aspect of life.

As he continued on, I began taking two sets of notes: notes copied from the giant overhead, and notes flowing out of my brain. I was suddenly listening from a different perspective. I was listening as someone who disagreed.

There is a strong difference in my depression when I'm sinning or sulking over God's plan and depression that wraps itself around my entire being and cannot be changed despite how hard I pray, try or attempt to do what's right.

I can tell the difference in these two depressions: one is controllable, one is not.

If his statement were true, no Christian should ever need medication, just an adjustment in their spiritual lives. However this is not solely what happens. God has afflicted even His children with mental disabilities that require the aid of modern medicine.

Now before you think I'm a pill happy addict who pushes and promotes mood altering drugs, please note, I STILL struggle with the fact that I need medication.  It took a lot of time for me to accept it at all, and only after studying it from a scientific standpoint did I start to be okay with it. Okay with it. This is something I'm still working through and sometimes I still have a battle over it with myself.

Even at my darkest moments I can state out loud the truths I know from the Word.  The promises He has given me and proven to me before can easily be recited. At those difficult times, stating these truths does not override the physical issues I am having.

Then it started bothering me that this sermon/statement had gotten me so flustered. It was very curious to me, especially since I have a very low offendability index. Maybe it bothers me because I'm tired of being misunderstood. Tired of the legalism that still seems to be hanging on in this area.

I'm even open to the fact that I may be completely wrong. If so, I am willing to work through whatever is necessary and humble myself to complete change if this allows me to be medication free and mentally stable.

Whatever is necessary for me to be complete in Him.

Which means I still have a lot of praying and searching to do regarding this subject, which may be another step closer to healing.

A Decade Later

When I think of a decade ago, for some reason my mind automatically goes to junior high or high school and all the crazy memories involved with that time in my life. In reality, a decade ago I was 25 years old and had just started my FIFTH year of teaching.  Funny how our minds work sometimes.

A decade ago my life came to a crashing halt.  God allowed the life that I knew to become completely dismembered and destroyed. The pain and shame of that time in my life is still as real as ever if I allow it to be and still have to make the conscious decision to remember grace and forgiveness.

I have no doubt God allowed my life then to be taken to nothing in order to rebuild me. If a building has a crack in its foundation, the only way to make sure it is completely safe and working for its purpose is to tear it down and rebuild the foundation.  In an architectural setting, this is devastating, both for reputation and financial loss.  The pain comes in many areas and the thought of rebuilding isn't joyful unless a good ending has been promised.

I had been consumed with an addiction that controlled me and constantly kept me at a distance from my Father.  No matter how much I pretended or how hard I tried or desired, there was a blockade up preventing me from resting and growing in Him. 

I had fought this addiction for more than half of my life. Hard to imagine, but it had began in Junior High and continued well into my teaching years. When I think back during those years I know that the only thing that kept me alive at some of the worst times had to be my Father. There's no other explanation.

One of my closest friends, who was beside me then and somehow, has still been with me, called me to meet  her to 'celebrate' this 10 year anniversary. When I got there, the first thing she did was quote Isaiah 61:1:  

  "The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

    because the Lord has anointed me

    to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

    to proclaim freedom for the captives

    and release from darkness for the prisoners,"

It's a verse I love and haven't thought about in a while, but then she explained why she chose that particular verse.

When my world fell apart, I was also put under church discipline. Part of my discipline was to attend the ladies Bible study at church.  This dear friend was leading the Bible study, which just so happened to be 'Breaking Free' by Beth Moore.  Isaiah 61:1 was the key verse to that Bible study. I don't remember much of the Bible study, mostly because I was in pieces and also angry that this had been forced on me. I do remember memorizing the verse, but with the attitude of little belief that what this verse was saying could really happen. There are times when we are so broken we can't see the truth in the Truth Himself.

When she reminded me of this Bible study and verse, I got tears in my eyes (NOT a crier here at all!).  I responded with simply...'wow...'

There's obviously been growth in the ten years and a changed attitude and different perspective, but wow. My Father proved that verse to be true to me much more than I could have ever imagined. It gives me chills and an amazing peacefulness to see the truth in that verse that I couldn't see ten years ago. The other thing it gives me is hope. Hope that His Word is truth. What He says in His Word WILL happen.  I may not see immediate results based on what my sinful human self wants to see, but in His time He proves over and over His promises to us.

This all came at His perfect timing as well.  The past few weeks have been some of the hardest I've dealt with in a long time. At one point reaching the ten year anniversary was even at risk. Satan did not want me to make that milestone and the attack was vicious. I'm thankful for those who prayed me through who didn't even know what was going on, and for this sweet friend again, who knew and prayed hard despite the busyness of her own life.

Freedom for the captives. Ten years of freedom for this captive in this area.  What an encouragement to let Him give me freedom in other areas of my life in which I'm still captive!

"To God be the glory, great things He hath done!"