Message Received in Fragments

Not too long ago, I had a bad few days.

Fear and depression grabbed onto my mind and sent me plunging downward. In a moment of strength, I threw a bottle into the ocean with a message for help. My friend received the bottle and read my plea. She sent me a text message and told me I was going to go with her to her "Crossfit" class. Similar to a "boot-camp" experience, it's a new way of exercising for the insane.

She told me that she understood my choice to not use medications in my battle against my depression, but she said that she also knew that the releasing of endorphins helps with the fight. I agreed to join her and met her early the next morning.

The exercise was awful. There was running, rowing, jumping and pulling. It was as awful as I had dreaded it would be. The instructor was a beautiful woman and I liked her immediately. She pushed me and encouraged me. At one point she said, "Stop thinking about it so much and just do it". My eyes welled up and began to sting, as all of the thoughts and fears I had been holding in began to roll down my face in the form of tears.

This lovely instructor had no idea how powerful her words were to me. All of the thinking and rethinking about what I should do was pulling me further and further away from the place I longed to be. I just needed to stop thinking about my life so much, and start doing my life. 

Today, looking back at that dreadful day exercising, I am so thankful that the Holy Spirit goes with me wherever I go; ready to prompt and engage, He opens my mind to the mind and heart of the Father.  I am also thankful that the power of the Holy Spirit can use words said by anyone to accomplish the will of the Father. 

"Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." Ephesians 3:20-21

And now for the REST OF THE STORY...

This was FIRST written exactly 3 months ago. 

And yet, like a dog who returns to his vomit, I allowed myself to struggle again with these frustrations again this week. Again this week I allowed myself to feel 

UNQUALIFIED, UNWORTHY, AND UNNECESSARY

And so, I go and seek the voice of the one that calms the seas. I throw my message in a bottle out once again, trusting completely that the Holy Spirit will receive my message, and make me who I need to be to receive the messages of truth.

R is for Roller-coasters, and Revisions

I was thinking about my attitude toward life when I was in my 20's, my 30's and now in my 40's and it occurred to me, that while I always think I understand things from a new perspective as I age the perspective is all that really changes. I know that the roller coaster analogy has been used so often that the car is looking a little rusty and the loops that it makes are not all that thrilling--but it was so real to me, I have to share.

In my 20's, my children were bursting out of me almost faster than I could name them and being a youth pastor's wife was the primary way I defined myself and my faith. Looking 2 decades backwards, I now realize that I viewed my life as though I was riding a roller coaster. I was a passenger and I was not in control of the things that happened to me. I felt like the happenings of my life were determined primarily by the Lord. I knew that He loved me and that He cared about me as a young mother and as an inexperienced servant, I felt that if I just held on as tightly as possible, I could close my eyes and He would see me through the journey. And He did. But, along the way, there was A LOT of pain and, to be quite blunt, it scared the hell out of me.

In my 30's I think that I saw the roller coaster as a very dangerous place to be and I longed to get off. In his book, Finding God When You Need Him Most, Chip Ingram writes of the 10 Psychological Factors that contribute to depression. Recently I read through his list, and as I completed the list--my eyes clouded. I had, at one point while I was in my 30's, owned all 10.

1. major loss

2. inward anger

3. guilt (real or imagined)

4. major transition or milestone

5. grief

6. negative thinking

7. low self esteem

8. being around negative people

9. unrealistic expectations

10. self pity

No wonder I had been depressed! No wonder the roller coaster was so scary! No wonder I tried to unfasten my seat belt and jump off! Somehow, I believed that watching the roller coaster would be better than being on it and having no control. I guess I thought those were my only options.

I would love to say that now, in my 40's, I've mastered the skill of riding a terrifying ride and here is the secret... But, that is not the case. I still ride it and there are moments where I feel I am less than ready for the upcoming drop. But, I do some other things differently. I get off the ride every single day. I get off the roller coaster and I help set the tracks. I meet with the Ride Operator and listen to His plans--and then I oil the wheels and allow the Ride Director to prompt me. I also trust in the Rise Operator's ability to maneuver the car across the tracks, because unlike the unshaven, carnival worker who just flips a switch, the ride operator for the Roller-coaster we ride has foreknowledge and the power to invade and prepare me for the drops.

As far as the List of 10 Psychological Factors, I still struggle with #3 and #5 but because I have eliminated some of the other numbers--#7 is leaving my life. I am excited to see what I will think about my attitude from my 40's--when I am in my 50's, 60's and my 70's. My prayer is that I will always be open to hearing when it is time for a revision.

We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way" Colossians 1:9-10

Speaking of roller-coasters and revisions, this article was originally entitled "What I Think About I Bring About" and was posted in February of 2010. I was never crazy about it, and thought many times about deleting it. I felt the original version focused too much on the a belief system that was more New Age than my own. But, this morning, on a whim, I decided that it deserved the same chance to be remade that I depend on hourly! Thanks for reading!

O is for Ordinary

1984 ~ I am a starving actress (well, at least until I get home to my Parent's kitchen, where I will make a box of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese). I am attending the prestigious American Academy of Dramatic Arts. My highlight of the year comes when I have a semi-private acting session/lesson with William Devane to prepare for a role that I will play opposite his son. Later when he meets my Mother at the stage production, he tells her, "She's got what it takes. Some people don't, but she does."

I am not ordinary. I am special, unique.

1994 ~ I have just given birth to my 4th child and my eldest has yet to start Kindergarten. He is 10 months younger than his sibling before him. People bring flowers and meals, and make quite a fuss about us having four children. A mother of 3 asks me kindly, "Did you always want a large family?" I am a little surprised, though she means me no harm. And I think to myself--'That's only one more than what you have'. Then she tells me that I am brave, that she could never have had so many young children.

I am not ordinary. I am special, unique.

2004 ~ My children are in school all day. I drive a minivan and pick them up after school each day. I sit with them to do math homework, which is getting too hard for me. We attend church on Sundays. We watch American Idol. I begin to believe that this is the sum of my life. I will never win an Academy Award. The boy that I dated while attending the American Academy is now famous. Since living through the death of my daughter, I have just the three children to raise. The empty space looms large. 

I am ordinary. I am not special, I am common.

Sadly, I listen to these lies, and many others just like them, for too long. I believe that my life is colorless and bland. Depression, which has been a battle for years, begins to call out to me--this damn plague knows my name all too well. The screech is unbearable.

Then, miraculously, the Spirit whispers. And the whisper is clear, so I welcome its pitch. I am not common at all. There is an adventure in this ordinary life that I lead. Every life is full of adventures, I've just been asleep. The extraordinary life is not lived by only the exceptional.   

Very few people will live the extraordinary life, but God calls every person to live their ordinary life~extraordinarily.  

So, I wonder, how do I find it. Where is the amazing life that I'm living?  Where did I leave it?

Then one morning, while reading my Bible, the amazing adventure appears. The adventure shows up when I remember a little butterfly. Soon after that, I see a spider in my bathroom. It begins to make sense, I found the adventure. It was here all along, just clouded by distraction. 

2011 ~ I am not ordinary. I am special, unique. And, in spite of what you might think, you are too.

My heart is stirred by a noble theme as I recite my verses for the king;
my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer. 

You are the most excellent of men and your lips have been anointed with grace,
since God has blessed you forever. 

Gird your sword on your side, you mighty one;
clothe yourself with splendor and majesty. 

In your majesty ride forth victoriously in the cause of truth, humility and justice;
let your right hand achieve awesome deeds.

Psalm 45:1-4 

Random Fact: During the summer of 1977, I saw William Devane in The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training 9 times {IN THEATERS}. The only movies I have seen more {IN THEATERS}  were 11 times for Warren Beatty's 1978 classic Heaven Can Wait and 13 times for Dustin Hoffman's 1979 heart breaker Kramer vs. Kramer.

Also this:

Have an Ordinary Adventure today!

Fear Factor: India

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear." ~Meg Cabot

I am not immobilized, I know this because (1) I'm writing. When I get so fearful that the fear is in control, I cannot bring myself to open my laptop, let alone figure out where to place my fingers on the little black alphabet squares. So, the fact that I am caressing this keyboard and letting my fingers do their job means...the fear has not paralyzed me!
I also know that I am not immobilized because (2) I asked for help. I was fearful and so rather than basking in the "what ifs" I prayerfully challenged them with some "then God will" responses. This is how it works:

"What if the money for India doesn't come in?"
"Then God will have to find another way to get me to the other side of the world for this mission."

"What if I try to sell 'honey sticks' to raise the money and people laugh at me?"
"The God will see me through that in His own 'sweet' way"

"What if I send out letters asking for support and everyone decides instead to use my letter as a backdrop for their dartboards or lining for their birdcages?"
"The God will repair the dart holes and clean the bird droppings from my face"

So, in other words...
"What if I am unable to...?"
"Then God will ..."

Immobilization would have found me under the covers in my bed, unable to communicate with one person (let alone ALL of YOU), and envisioning the impending doom that awaited me. Sometimes this place that I hate, this ugly and fear-filled place of ruins, is exactly where I feel the most at home. The pain feels so bad, that it feels good. It reminds me of the feelings that I felt the day my daughter died--and any connection to her (good or otherwise) is still a connection. I know that isn't what people like to admit to--that we sometimes choose to feel fearful or sad. But, being a martyr in our everyday lives does happen. We allow it, or at least I do. I believe the lies of the enemy and I revel in my pain for just a few minutes. But, minutes can turn into hours and hours can turn into months and months have suddenly turned into "that really bad year when I my kids were in Jr. High". So, I have to battle for the sake of being in God's will, which is not depression and fear-filled. For the sake of the living, and for the sake of His will I cannot go to that desperate place.

Going to India is causing me to become fearful. Not for the sake of India. I would never pretend that anything I may encounter would be less than trivial compared to those who live in poverty stricken areas day in and day out. Going to India is making me fearful because I have to believe that God is in control while I am raising the money to get there. Quite honestly, on my own, I do not have the money.

I need to send out letters asking for support and I am fearful. I feel like that 14-year-old girl who walked up to that 15-year-old boy in 1979 and asked him to go to the "Hearts & Flowers Girl's Choice Formal Dance" at La Mirada High School. Standing in the middle of the cafeteria staring up into his dark brown eyes, I presented my request for him to be my date. I can still see his longing for this moment to have never happened, and I can still see his lips forming the word "No." All around us, I can hear the sounds of the other teenagers moving through the cafeteria; the sound of the food scraping off their divided trays and into the trash cans near the lady running the dishwasher. I looked away from him and gulped back tears of disappointment. Unable to know where to look, avoiding his eye contact and the eye contact of my friends who watched from a table, I left the torturous room--uncertain if I would ever be able to face my peers again.

Alright, so maybe, just maybe, I am a little dramatic. I guess I take after my Creator. He is dramatic. He loves drama and He loves that He is the star of it all. He loves that this is bigger than me, because in the end when all the necessary funds come in...He ALONE will get the credit. I can sell my sweet honey sticks, I can have a garage sale--these are the things I can do along the way, but raising $3300.00 is bigger than those things, so when it happens it will all point back to Him.

"For I am the Lord, your God,
who takes hold of your right hand and says to you,
Do not fear; I will help you."
-Isaiah 41:13

disengaged: not even a clever title

When I was pregnant with my daughter, I read the bestseller "What to Expect When You are Expecting" until I knew each of the "nine month" descriptions word for word. The dogeared copy was my only link to the truth that things that I couldn't watch from the outside were actually changing on the inside. Each monthly trip to the OB-GYN was a highlight and a benchmark. But still the long wait for her arrival felt distant, like a walk down a creepy long hallway in a dream.

Well, she arrived. I survived. And, now, a couple decades later, she's leaving. And, I'm good with that. I've been ready for a while for her to strengthen her wings with the resistance of the wind. I'm eager to see how she will fly. So, that being said, what is going on inside of me?

My daughter was engaged about a month ago and since that event came about, something has been growing inside of me. I cannot seem to figure out what it is. It's painful beyond much I've endured in a long time and it's draining me of most of my creativity. I'm having a hard time expressing myself in writing, I can't seem to even do a simple Facebook Status Update. Even as I write this, I am holding back tears. I'm having a hard time expressing myself in speech. Yes, you read that correctly. Jackie Jean the talking machine is without words.

Even as I write this, I can't take you anywhere. It's like "writers block" but it's everywhere. I long for someone to tell me what it is. I wish so badly that someone would reassure me--that it will pass. I'm tired from not sleeping well. I'm lonely from not being able to connect to anyone beyond a few moments at a time. I have become isolated and I can't get out. And I'm scared. I'm scared because I have a history with depression.

Yes, the D-word. Sometime after my daughter Molly died, I was diagnosed with depression. Which, quite frankly, has always seemed a little redundant. I mean, holy crap, I woke up and Molly didn't--of course I was depressed. I've always wondered how much medical schooling that particular Psychiatrist really needed for THAT diagnosis.

I'm scared that it will come back. I don't want to walk that long creepy hallway. The way out of that hallway led me down into rooms that were in many ways worse. I want to be where I was before this came up. The weird thing is, my curiosity to understand why I am here may be what is holding me here. Perhaps if I give up trying to understand why I am here, I will be able to get out. Do you think?

Well, there is not a book called "What to Expect When Your Not Sure What Your Expecting", but there is another book that is calling out to me. It may be the only link to the truth that what is going on inside is not going to completely change me. It's a best seller in multiple countries and I'm hoping that if I keep looking at the descriptions and if I continue to learn each page word by word, it's power will sustain me.

Until then, prayers appreciated.