The Search for Change

Because we are the Body of the Wounded Healer and we are the people who believe the impossible— that wounds can be openings to the beauty in us.  We’re the people who say: there’s no shame saying that your heart and head are broken because there’s a Doctor in the house. It’s the wisest and the bravest who cry for help when lost.  There’s no stigma in saying you’re sick because there’s a wounded Healer who uses nails to buy freedom and crosses to resurrect hope and medicine to make miracles.  There’s no guilt in mental illness because depression is a kind of cancer that attacks the mind. You don’t shame cancer, you treat cancer. You don’t treat those with hurting insides as less than. You get them the most treatment.-Ann Voskamp


May is Mental Health Awareness Month.   Can I get WOO HOO?  Yea, not so much, right?   Who wants to bring to attention those ugly things that attack our minds?   Too often we turn away from people, and sometimes even ourselves, who are plagued with mental illness.  We would never say to a man with a broken leg, "Hey, you.  I want you to run" and then criticize him because he didn't  run fast enough, balanced enough, or well enough.  And yet we say to others whose minds are just as broken, "Hey, don't feel that way" or "just count your blessings" or worse yet "You are a Christian, you're not supposed to be this way."    Oh, I think we mean well, we just don't necessarily want to get our hands dirty.  I'm certainly not suggesting that everyone get involved in helping people who suffer with mental illness.   Not everyone is cut out for that.  What I am suggesting is that we, as a society, and especially as those who are believers in Christ, stop drawing our own conclusions and sitting in judgement of things we just don't understand.   And maybe extend a little grace and kindness to those who are suffering, rather than more blame and shame on them for a condition they can't control.

On my way home from a Dr. appointment, in utter frustration, I called my sister.  I cried and yelled and told her how it wasn't fair, how I didn't want to take medicine my whole life long because I couldn't control my mind.  I told her I don't mind taking medicine for my stomach, because that's physical, but this...this is because I'm crazy?!   Why can't I just be better, just make myself not go up and down like a yo-yo,  Just not have panic attacks,  just go places and live my life without this constant inner turmoil and struggle to live??   Everyone's going to see that I'm different.  They are going to say it's all my fault that I'm like this"   And She, being her, said "SO WHAT!  They don't know you, it doesn't matter what they think.  And just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not broken."    Yes.  She's right.    Just because we can't see it, doesn't mean it's not broken.

Some days are hard and I wish I were anyone but me.  I wish I were strong and brave and free.  I down right wish myself away and pray for a better girl, a better wife, a better friend, and a better mother to come in and take my place.   I wrote this down one day when I was searching for change, desperate to rid myself of some of the yuck-that is me.   Instead, I found a grace large enough to cover all of who I am.   I believe in a God who heals, and I believe in a God who covers us with grace while He does the healing in His time.  And in the meantime...His grace is sufficient for me and His strength is made perfect in my weakness, so I'm going to fly my freak flag high and proud about my weakness, because it's then that His power rests on me. (2 Corinthians 12:9-paraphrased-pretty sure 'flying my freak flag' isn't in any version...yet).  Let us be aware of those who are buckling under the weight of a broken mind, and offer them the One who heals our wounds with His own. 

The Search for Change

I went and stood outside in the sun
Hoping to quench the darkness
Hoping its rays would warm the chill
I stood there awhile
But the darkness was too deep
The chill was too cold
I stood in the sun unchanged

I went and stood outside in the wind
Hoping to rid myself of the gnawing guilt
Hoping its gale would blow away my failings
I stood there awhile
But the guilt was too heavy
My failings too many
I stood in the wind unchanged

I went and stood outside in the rain
Hoping to drowned  the shame
Hoping the downpour would wash away who I am
I stood there awhile
But the torrent wasn't enough to loosen the grip
Shame had attached itself too tightly
I stood in the rain unchanged

I went and stood under a tree on a hill
Hoping it would illuminate the darkness
Hoping it would take away the guilt and shame
I stood there awhile
Grace poured down and saturated the darkness, guilt and shame
Grace that was brighter, stronger and heavier than all I had become
I stood at the cross forever changed.

Thanks for reading.

High Anxiety

A crust eaten in peace is better than a banquet partaken in anxiety.-Aesop

I am going to be completely honest with you all.  Transparent, raw and no holds barred kind of honest.  I'm going to talk a bit about anxiety today.  My hope is that by being honest and open about my own struggles, someone may stumble across this blog post and know they are not alone, and that it may give more understanding to those who know someone who struggles with anxiety.  

Because too often there is a stigma that goes along with those suffering from mental disorders-especially within the christian community.   They feel alone and isolated, often not wanting to share their struggle with anyone for fear of being thought of as "crazy" and a "bad christian".  

This is for you who suffer from anxiety and those who know you.  We are not crazy, just broken.  And I have to believe that Jesus died to heal all of our brokenness.  Sometimes it's nothing more than deciding that you are worth the time and effort it takes to get better.  Never give up.  There is hope.  Here is only a piece of my own struggle...

Anxiety.  It is a wicked taskmaster.  It is one that demands complete and utter control of your mind and leaves you, at the end of each day, empty and useless.  It wants you to fix problems that are impossible to fix, keep everyone and everything safe from unseen danger, and tells you at the end of it all that you have failed miserably and surely there will be consequences for your failure.  It is the beginning and end of a cycle of fear/trying to fight the fear/being overcome by fear/depression/then back to fear.  

Those of you who know me know that I have spent the majority of my years living with varying degrees of anxiety.  Sometimes it's manageable, mild enough to get by with minimal repercussions.  In times like these most people would have no idea that I am a slave to anxiety.  Other times it is so debilitating that I can not function, I avoid all that is possible for me to avoid and my mind races at a hundred miles per minute.  It leaves me, at the end of the day, swallowing a pill to ease my mind and wondering if life is  worth living at all.  And so the cycle continues.  It steals all joy, all purpose, and all energy leaving me depleted and defeated.  

I have been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder (DUH thank you Captain Obvious).    There is a difference in being anxious for a season or about some specific things and living in a state of constant, continual anxiety.    To be honest, I almost can't remember a time when I wasn't ruled by anxiety-it's been so long ago.  I can't really remember when I have had "fun" doing things.  I am happy and satisfied when I am with my family doing "fun" activities, but anxiety steals the "fun" right out of your life.  Instead of enjoying the moment, you worry about what is going to happen, what danger lies around every turn, if everyone else is having a good time, what more you could do to make the day better and on and on it goes.  I try to turn my thoughts around, but it's like anxiety is so strong it just takes over my mind and physical body as well.  It defies all logic and reasoning.  It's like being in a constant state of "fight or flight" and it is exhausting.  


I do my very best to hide my anxiety and try to appear "normal".   I smile appropriately, laugh, joke and do my best to engage in whatever activity is taking place. Then come the panic attacks, when  my body can take the anxiety no longer and it literally "freaks out".  It becomes difficult to hide my anxiety when I am hyperventilating and my heart is racing, and my body is shaking, and I can't breath.  Yea, it is NOT a pretty picture.  It is rather embarrassing unless I can find a place to hide until it passes.  I find it hard to explain to people who find me in such a state.  


Then comes the condemnation.  You wonder what in the world is wrong with you that you can not seem to handle what everyone else in the world handles with no problem.  You are a believer in Christ, for goodness sake, you certainly should NOT be overtaken by fear.  What kind of a christian are you anyway, what a poor example you are setting, what a terrible representative of Christ you are... 


 So feeling like the biggest disappointment in the entire christian community, I set off to make myself better.  I read books, I "do things afraid" (they say that makes it better-it doesn't) I print off scripture, I sing songs, I declare positive scriptures, I bind, I loose,  I pray, I cry, I ask for help, I try pill after pill after pill, and sometimes one or more of these things will help for a time and I will have a bit of hope.  Then, at the first sign of little sleep or life stress it all falls apart again.   I simply survive.  


I know God works miracles in the lives of people.  I've seen it.  I also know that sometimes He heals things piece by piece, one area at a time. As much as I'd love a miracle of complete turn around in an instant, that has not been how God has dealt with me.   My life has been quite the mess, and He has healed lots of places in my broken heart, little by little.   And I am so thankful for that.  There are still many more, I'm realizing.  And in my effort to put band aids on some of these areas, I have not dealt with the heart of the matter.  But I have to believe that God's timing is perfect and He knows what things to deal with and what things need more time.  


What I know today is that I have become weary of living my life under Anxiety's rule.  It is not a good ruler.  I also know that it may be time to get down to the heart of the matter on some things that cause me to fall under Anxiety's rule instead of the rule of  the Creator of my soul.  I have decided to pursue some avenues in hopes of ridding myself of this wicked taskmaster once and for all.  It is time to thrive instead of just survive.  


If you or someone you love is suffering under Anxiety's tyrant rule, know this: you are not alone.  You are loved by the creator of your soul.  Find some help.  You are worth helping.  You are not too far gone-no one is too far from the arm of the living God.  He loves you, even when you are living in a state of high anxiety.   He wants to rescue you from this evil taskmaster.  He says this in Matthew 11:28
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

A friend of mine shared this song on her blog.  I listened to  it and so identified with her that day.  I heard her heart and it resonated with my own.  "I want to thrive not just survive".

Here's to hope of thriving.


Thanks for reading.

Mother's Day

The process of shaping the child...shapes also the mother herself.  Reverence for her sacred burden calls her to all that is pure and good, that she may teach primarily by her own humble, daily example.
-Elisabeth Elliot

Today was Mother's Day.

My children greeted me this morning with kisses, words that said "Happy Mother's Day", cards, gifts and their sweet smiles.  But no card or gift could ever be worth more to me than the gift of being their mother.   It is their voices I hear, giggling and chatting with one another, that get me out of bed in the morning on those days when I'd rather hide from the world.  It is for them that I  push myself to seek the Lord on how to be a good example of a godly woman for my girls to follow, and how to raise my son to be a man of God.  Being a mother has been the most frustrating, difficult, wonderful, joyous experience of my life.

Motherhood is a place where you can experience extreme joy, laughter, incredible frustration, tears, an iron will and complete defeat all in one hour spent with a toddler.  It is a place where you discover you biggest vulnerability, your deepest fears, your greatest hope and your biggest dreams.  Somehow, they all tend to be wrapped up in  the little people that God has entrusted to you to raise.  You open yourself up for hurt as you love, without conditions, this small, totally dependent infant who can give you nothing in return.  You fear you will somehow not be the patient mom you so desire to be, while you slip in a puddle of pudding your toddler threw on the floor.  You hope and dream along with your children those big dreams they have.  And above all, you PRAY.

In all the ways I teach my children, I feel as though I am the one learning the most.  I've learned more about myself(good and awful bad), more about giving, and more about the unconditional love and acceptance of God, by parenting these little people He has entrusted to me.  In all the ways I give to my children, I feel as though I receive the most.  I came home from class one night to see this precious gift on my counter from my little guy.

I used to think I wanted to have so much more in my life.  But as I watch how quickly the years are flying by, I am so grateful to have the privilege to devote this time in my life to spend with my children.   Soon enough they will be grown and will not take photos like these...

Being a mother sure isn't what I thought it would be.  But it is the best gift I've ever been given.  I am grateful everyday for my children and also for my wonderful hubby to walk this journey of parenting with me.

 Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.-Elizabeth Stone

If you've never seen this video by Anita Renfroe about motherhood, check this out.  It is hilarious.

Happy Mother's Day to all you mommies out there

Thanks for reading.