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.