Day 9: I am Thankful for Patience

...Not that I actually have much of my own...

When I was still growing up, well, how about we just rewind to when I was in college.  I did my research in a library by sourcing through magazines and books using a card catalogue.  I actually knew people's phone numbers beyond dialing, "Mom."  And if I didn't know someone's phone number, I called information or I looked it up in either the White Pages or the Yellow Pages.

I typed my first 10 page research paper on a typewriter.  I was considered lucky on my hall because I had one of those typewriters that could erase & re-type.  Eventually, my roommate let me use her word processor.  Amazing!

There was no fast forwarding through commercials.  We looked up movie times in the paper.  If I tried to call my then boyfriend, Derick, while his mom was talking to him on his WALL phone, this annoying beep-beep sound started up declaring the line "busy." 

My the world has changed.  (And I sound like an old woman...barefoot, in the snow, uphill, BOTH ways...)

My 11-year-old is in competitive swimming.  His practices are held at the University of Alaska Anchorage.  Recently, the school slowed down it's Wifi to combat the number of folks pirating movies and music.

It.is.driving.me.crazy.

It takes longer than 10 seconds for me to get anything up on the screen of my phone!  The outrage. 

It is very human (and very Pentecostal) to expect God to hand me instant healing.  I should pray in the altar, with faith, and all should be well from that moment on in my heart.  Except I found that He doesn't do things the way I'd like Him to.

Unlike the rest of the world, unlike my own surburbian world, He is not in a hurry.

From looking at the stories in the Bible, God is as much into the process or the journey of a life as He is into the end result.  Abraham was 100 when Isaac was born.  Moses was 80 when he led the Israelites out of Egypt and into the wilderness.

Going to the ultimate story, the Gospel story, God spent about 4,000 years building up to the moment when Christ would appear on earth. 

It took me 20 years to get through my depression.  God wasn't frustrated with me, either, because I wasn't figuring it out.  He knew from the beginning the exact date my depression would start AND the exact moment it would end.  He was not in hurry.  He was not anxious.  He didn't bite His nails or twirl His hair or wring His hands. 

He had patience.

"'My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,' says the Lord. 

'And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine'."  Isaiah 55:8 (NLT)

I wish I would have patience like Him.  But He is slowly, ever so slowly building it.  He's good like that.

My Moment of Bliss

I've been sick for the last several days.  I protest my ill status declaring that all mothers should be exempt from all malady for at least the first five years of their children's lives.  Alas, the bacteria and virii (plural of virus? no?) aren't in agreement with me. 

I'd call them booger-heads but in reality, I'm the literal booger-head.  (Snort, sniff, blow)

But, I have found one brief moment of happiness while I lie in my bed.  It is not while I'm sleeping because I honestly don't get to do much of that sleeping thing what with two still sorta in diapers and all.  

It is not while I'm dreaming since sickness tends to bring on the weirdest dreams.  (Right after pregnancy...whoa!...am I right?)

It is not even the comfort of being snuggled in soft sheets and being warm, a rarity for us Alaskans.

Since I'm snotty and boogery it is not currently even in a passionate embrace with my husband.  (giggle)

My moment of bliss, my glorious moment of bliss last for but a couple of minutes, several times a night.  It is after I've rolled over...and waited for the gunk in my head to settle...and for, maybe, two delightful minutes I can breathe out of BOTH sides of my nose.  I love that feeling.

I think my cold medicine has made me loopy...

Day 8: I am Thankful for Humility

We are Americans.  We can do anything and everything if we just dream big enough and work hard enough.  I mean, that's what all our cartoons, movies, and Disney tweener shows tell us, right?

But no matter how hard I worked, no matter how much I wanted it, no matter how white my knuckles were...

I couldn't shake the depression on my own.  I needed help.  How very un-American of me.  How very un-Texan of me...gasp...hand placed prettily on mouth. 

The fact is, when it came to depression, I was unable to come up with my own remedy.  Spent years trying.  I was unable to work it out.  I was unable to figure it out.  I was unable to know what I needed to do, to make myself better.

It was not easy to admit.  I happen to be a naturally prideful and independent person.  I'm not one of those women who needs a guy.  I don't have to be popular.  I am not afraid to be alone because I know I'm intellegent and able.  I can figure it.  Virtually always. 

So God gave me depression.  He showed me I needed others.  He showed me I needed my husband and my family.  And most importantly, He showed me I needed Him. 

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that He may lift you up in due time. 

1 Peter 5:6 (NIV)

And this verse is true.  I am at a greater place of joy now than I ever was before I asked for help.  He has released me to speak through writing.  He has realeased me to love others.  He has released me to love my husband & children in a way I wasn't able to before.  

And as long as I throw myself upon Him and the people He brings into my life, it can only get better.  

I'm not done, but I'm done for today.

Day 7: I am Thankful for My Husband

Oh, the cheese factor will be big...

For the most part, I have and will continue to keep most of my "thankfuls" relevent to anyone suffering with depression.  But, for today, I am going to endulge myself. 

I met my husband at a Bible college.  He knew before we married that depression was something I struggled with.  I don't think he knew how much or how bad it could get, but he stuck with me.  He has continued to stick with me.

It can't be easy being the partner of someone with depression.  I know he has longed to make everything better, but since he's not the cause of the depression, he's unable to fix the problem by himself.

He has done a couple of things right for me. 

1) As previously stated, we met in Bible college.  It's unfortunate, but also true, that church ministry can be very image conscious.  I can look back and see leanings in both of us to try to "look the part."  You know the part: all polished and pretty and put together:

(Please note that I am neither endorsing nor criticizing the Osteens.  I have heard him say one thing I greatly disagree with and other things I don't have a problem accepting.  But they are very much the image sought after by many Pentecostal Bible students in the 1990's.  They help make my point.)

See how polished and pretty they are.  See how nicely they are put together.  They may, indeed, be genuinely polished, pretty and put together.  Bully for them.  I am not.  (Let's be honest, with my curly hair, I've never been described as "polished." At least not without a couple of hours and a flat iron...) And 10 years ago, when my husband was a minister in a church we were very much pressured to put forth such an image.  A wife battling depression and on anti-depressants does not line up. 

My wonderful husband, did not hesitate to tarnish his own pastoral image.  He was more concerned for my well-being than how I made him look.  He would rather I get happy and healthy than pretend.  I don't know if very many of you, my readers, will understand that that took a special kind of bravery.  Such bravery was rare in our circles.

Thankfully, like me with this blog, I see many ministers and ministering families throwing open the doors and showing all the ugly in all it's glory.  I believe that showing how Christ works through our weaknesses vs. pretending we have it together is the way to reach hurting people.

2). He's my best friend.  And when I say he is my friend, I mean that he's a real friend.  He's probably a better friend than I am. He is willing to push me.  He is willing to tell me the truth instead of telling me what will make me feel better at the moment.  He was willing to get me to help when I didn't have the ability to get help on my own.

I know not everyone has a husband like mine.  But almost all of you know SOMEONE who you suspect of being depressed.  Perhaps you can be a friend like my spouse is and push them to get help.  Perhaps you can be their friend when times are ugly & not just when times are easy.

I am thankful for my husband.

I'm not done yet, but I'm done for now.

Day 6: I am Thankful for Relapse

I was racked with depression for about 20 years.  That's not a short time.  Especially when I was only 32 years old.  Getting out was messy.  There were years and years of treatment culminating in me facing some issues that could better be labeled demons.  Not in the Pentecostal "cast you owwOOT!" sort of way but in the "it was that nasty" sort of way.

(Note: I do believe in demons and oppression.  I know I dealt with some in my counselors office, but getting rid of it was less melodramatic than most Pentecostals like to imagine.)

But because of all that dirty "ick" that I went through, I was able to get some truly horrible grit out of my heart.  I was able to excise quite a bit of bitterness, anger, fear and self-hatred.  You see, my soul was broken.  Sin and pain, some self-afflicted and some forced upon me by others, had permeated so much of me that I was unable to cope on my own.

Blessedly, God has no desire for me to keep such things.  Instead He allowed the depression to become so oppressive I sought help.  Help I needed to remove the cancer in my heart.

I know He used depression to cleanse me.

And this is why I can deal with the depression when it decided to rear it's ugly head, again, in my life.  Initially I was simply angry because I thought I'd had this thing beat forever.  But...I've come to know that this means there's something broken.  God wants to fix it.  And He loves me enough to force me to deal with it.  I wouldn't be surprised as I dig & discover that He's tried to get my attention in other ways.  Well, He has my attention now. 

Also, along with fixing myself, I'm reminded of how others are suffering.  My compassion & understanding are renewed.  I'll roll my eyes less and extend grace more.  

So, for me, relapse is a good thing.

It's Christmas Eve & I still got shopping to do.  (It's not procrastination if you plan to shop at the last minute, right?)  So, anyways, I'm done for now.

That Sound, That Horrible Sound!

Night before last, my 3-year-old, Fischer, woke me up about 2:00 a.m.  "Mommy, my tummy hurts. Can I sleep in your bed?"

First of all, the answer was, "No."  But we happen to have a random crib in our bedroom in which I placed him.  So he was sort of sleeping with us.  And sure enough, I checked his forehead and he was running a fever.  Gave him some Ibuprofen and rolled back into bed.  Just long enough to doze off before the 1-year-old started crying...typical night at our house.

Secondly, BLESS HIM for giving me warning.  He ended up never being tummy sick that night, but many of you mothers and fathers have been there...

I mentioned in a previous blog that I don't do anything quickly.  I move like molasses.  I think like molasses.  Until I started writing no one ever accused me of being funny because I thought of all my witty comebacks after the conversation was over and everyone had left the room.

But it only takes one time of waking up with vomit in your hair, of needing to replace every pillow you own, and of a disgusting brown stain forever on your mattress to train your body to move like lightning...

It's not unusual for my little ones to end up in bed with us before the night is over.  It results in disaster from on occasion.  Sometimes my husband wakes up to a backache from getting kicked throughout the night.  Sometimes I end up with a blinding headache from a head-butt that made me cry out in agony. (And yet Kellen didn't even break rhythm in his snore.)  Other days it's a diaper that leaked on your freshly washed sheets.  These first few mentioned...are disasters for pansies.  

The apocalypse of bedtime disaster is throw up.  I have become so trained that I can be in the most beautiful, deep, hard sleep and my brain WILL register the sound of a tummy rumble as it comes up the esophogus.  0.08 seconds after it starts my husband & I can be up out of bed, yelling, and running with the baby to the bathtub.  I'm really surprised I haven't face planted a baby into the wall because I've managed to have them into the bathroom before I've managed to actually pry my eyelids apart or have flipped a light switch.

Then you get to spend an hour or two cleaning up.  Usually I end up cleaning the baby and the bathroom while my sweet husband drunkedly scrubs the carpet and the bed.

It really does make for an adventurous evening as you collapse in exhaustion on top of a mattress covered in towels and wrap yourself in a musty blanket from the linen closet and pray that it doesn't happen again.

Thank you, Lord, for my wonderful washing machine with a "Sanitary" cycle.

Parenting changes everything to the core or your DNA.  It can make a slow person fast.

Day 5: I am Thankful for Hope

I am thankful for hope.

It's December.  It's Christmas time.  All the commercials and all the TV specials are about the Spirit of Christmas. 

Random Rant: Excuse me, CHRISTmas.  "Don't take the CHRIST out of Christmas." Am I the only one who is SO tempted to post 30 days of happy Christmas wishes on Facebook & only use "Xmas?" Just to be ornery?  No?  It's just me then.  I'm so twisted. 

Back on task, you know the commercials & the music & the cheesy family friendly movies that talk about giving and hope and fairy dust wishes with sparkling lights on top? 

Well, when I talk about hope, I'm not talking about that kind.  I'm talking about something a little more tangible and a little less fuzzy.  When I'm in the dark places of depression and mental illness, all that superficial joy-joy just makes me mad.  It's kind of like rubbing a cheese grater on my skin. 

But there is definitely something to be said about real hope:

1) There's the belief that something good can come out of something bad.  The most amazing people have all been through hell.  Their travel through darkness is what made them amazing.  Examples: Corrie Ten Boom, Nick Vujicic, Rosa Parks, Nelson Mandela, Mother Theresa and Abraham Lincoln.  Incidently, President Lincoln also suffered from depression.  

2) The knowledge that situations always eventually change.  It's not always for the better but know that if it can get worse it also can get better.  I am a deep believer in Christ, but realize that even those who are not "religious" recognize that life is moving, always changing.  There is an appropriately named "It Gets Better" campaign.  Celebrities like Tim Gunn speaking out to those who are facing despair over the struggle of sexual identity or other personal issues.  They speak of the changes that life naturally brings as it ebbs and flows.  Life is dynamic, not stagnant. 

3) My final statement of hope is through my own relationship with God, with Christ.  Even when I really can't see a way out of darkness, I understand the power He has.  He usually doesn't, but I know He has the power to speak a single word & all my pain will be washed away instantly.  It used to make me angry when I thought of His ability and the fact that He wouldn't just magic the agony away.  It no longer does.  Instead I find comfort and HOPE that He's walking me through the pain. 

I realize that not all who read this blog have the relationship with God I am talking about.  Many of you may not even believe Him.  But at least, if not all 3 points, consider the first 2.  There is real tangible hope out there.

My kids have woken from their naps, so I'll have to be done for now.

Day 4: I am Thankful for Seasons

^{"There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens:}

   ^{a time to be born and a time to die,}

   ^{a time to plant and a time to uproot,} 

   ^{a time to kill and a time to heal,} 

   ^{a time to tear down and a time to build,} 

   ^{a time to weep and a time to laugh,} 

   ^{a time to mourn and a time to dance,} 

   ^{a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,} 

   ^{a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,} 

   ^{a time to search and a time to give up,} 

   ^{a time to keep and a time to throw away,} 

   ^{a time to tear and a time to mend,}

   ^{a time to love and a time to hate,} 

   ^{a time for war and a time for peace."  Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (NIV)}

^{I know that you are now singing that song quietly under your breath.  I know you are because "I sure are."  We'll give an obligatory nod to The Birds...and move on.}

^{You know the seasons: Summer, Fall, Winter, and Spring.  I, however, live in Alaska.  The joke up here is that we have four seasons as well: Almost Winter, Winter, Still Winter (a.k.a. "Break-up"), and Construction.}

^{Just like the weather, life is full of seasons.  Following my own life there's my childhood, my teen years, my college years, my newlywed years, my career years, and I am currently in right smack dab in the chaos-ensuing...er, child rearing years.}  

^{Each season has it's own situational challenges, logistical challenges, and emotional challenges.  Unfortunately, we don't have the predictability as to a timeline.  I don't know how long any one season of challenge will last.  It different for every challenge and for every person.  And so it is.}  

^{Another way to say it is, "This too shall pass."} 

^{I had a pre-babies figure that I did not even appreciate enough.  "This too shall pass."  I had period of illness that put me on disability and drove us into the ground financially.  "This too shall pass."}  

^{(Nerd out moment: Are you picturing the scene with Gandalf and the Balrog? Because I  am.  I totally am.)}

^{My 1st season of depression lasted for 20 years.  My next season of joy and freedom lasted for about 18 months.  Whatever this current season will be, it will be just that, a season.}  

^{And the seasons have taught me that God is good.  He is for our good.  We really get to see it if we can relax and trust our lives, hearts, fears, weaknesses and deep emotions to Him.  I just have to hold on and ride it out.} 

"But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.
      They will soar high on wings like eagles.
   They will run and not grow weary.
      They will walk and not faint."  Isaiah 40:31 (NLT)

It was pointed out to me that we don't walk & soar at the same time.  There are days for soaring, when all is well.  And there are days for walking, when life is tough.  And to be honest, there are days, when I'm in darkness, when it is a struggle to fold the next piece of laundry and I am crawling...barely.  

But it's only a time period.  And in view of eternity it's really not very long at all.  

Speaking of seasons, today's season of "awake-ed-ness" is about over, so I'm going to be done for now.

Day 3: I am Thankful for Suffering

I grew up around the belief that God loves us and He's our Father & He'd never want us to be in pain.

“Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!"  Matthew 7:9-11 (NIV).

I bought this line hook, line and sinker.  

So what was wrong with me that I kept struggling with being sad virtually all the time.  For 20 years I might have a flash of happiness here and there, but it was only fleeting.  I was so unhappy.  What was wrong with me?  Why wasn't I like everyone else? Why didn't God fix me?

I prayed in the altar, cried in the altar, lingered in the altar.  Why, God....why?

It took years, but I started to notice something in my own study and through the teaching many wonderful biblical teachers.  Biblical heroes did not live the illness free, wealthy, happy American dream.  Far from it.    Paul had bad eyes.  Elijah and Moses both suffered from feeling overwhelmed or depressed.  Sarah laughed bitterly at the thought of having a child.  The New Testament Christians had their possessions seized, were put into prison, and murdered.

"Even though Jesus was God’s Son, he learned obedience from the things he suffered." Hebrews 5:8 (NLT)

Jesus Himself suffered.  He told us repeatedly that we, too, would suffer.  How can we think we are not supposed to suffer? 

There is something you're learning through your depression.  You are being made mature.  You are slowly becoming mature.  You are being made perfect through your depression.  It is a slow, painful process.  But one day you will understand.

A couple of good things that came out of my depression:

1. I really, really grasp joy.  After 20 years of depression, I received a healing.  I had that "joy unspeakable," finally.  And would you believe that it was worth it?  Don't get me wrong, mental illness isn't "fun" and I would have hoped to never see dark days again.  But I wouldn't undo those days either.  I don't believe that I would have understood joy if my life had been carefree.  I've seen the the black so I can understand the white.

Maybe you don't need sadness to comprehend joy.  Maybe you suffer in some other way.  Maybe you'll need poverty to appreciate wealth?  Maybe you'll need illness to love health?  I cannot speak about for your life, but I'd like to speak to your heart. 


2. I can possess compassion for others.  I'm a Texan.  I naturally lean towards that "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" and "shake the dust off your feet" mentality.  But though I'd like to think that I would be strong, powerful & independent on my own, I'm sooo not.  I have suffered therefore I am able to identify with suffering in others.  I can empathize.  I can weep with those who weep.  And these days, I can even laugh with those who laugh.

I heard a Christian counselor explain that most people are able to withstand any crisis, any grief, any sorrow as long as they feel there is purpose behind it.

You need to know, there is purpose for your suffering as well.

It's getting late and I need to go to bed.  I guess that means I'm done for now.

Day 2: I am Thankful for Professional Counseling

Obviously, I'm not going to be hitting you with a blog daily, per sey.  Oh, well. 

My husband & I met at college 16 years ago.  Derick & I dated for about 2 1/2 years before we got married.  The first 18 months or so we're pretty tumultuous.  In fact I had a usually meek, lovely friend who gently and bravely told me one day, "I think you're great.  I think Derick's great.  I'm not sure if you're good together."

My future husband described our woes to a trusted professor.  Dr. H. suggested Derick use one of the psychologist provided by the school to the students.  Was he bad enough off to need to see a counselor?  The professor then explained his personal view of the need for professional counseling.

You see, this professor was relatively new to the university.  He had actually spent many years working as a pastor.  He had a reputation for excepting the pastorship at a dying church with low attendance.  Over a period of years he would build it into a lively, thriving ministry.  He would then set up leadership within the church and seamlessly step out to take on another flailing ministry.

Dr. H. explained that he required his church staff to meet with a professional counselor regularly.  All married staff were also required to attend additional marital counseling.  If the church grew large enough to support one, he'd hire a professional counselor on staff.  This way church members could have access to therapy as well.  And he himself, an emotionally healthy individual, attended monthly sessions with a professional biblical counselor.  He and his wife also attended marital counseling semi-regularly and have a loving marriage.

Derick agreed to meet with the counselor.  Well, that highly trained professional needed only a few minutes with Derick to know that she needed to see ME.  He invited me to come so I did.  She was straightforward and told us that she didn't know if our relationship would work.  She wanted to see us separately. 

I was only mildly annoyed that I got 2-3 times as many sessions as my future spouse.  To be honest, at this point I was such an emotional wreck that I didn't really care; I just wanted to not feel like I was going crazy.  I worked through a plethora of trust issues.  I extended forgiveness to multiple souls.  I learned to give up some of my rigid independence.  About 6 months later, at another dual session with both Derick & me, the counselor said that she gave her stamp of approval towards what she expected to be a life-long, healthy marriage.

Fast forward 10 years.  I am struggling with depression.  I had discussions with my husband that there seemed to be this destructive circle that I, on my own couldn't seem to break free of, obviously.  I sought out professional counseling again.  Praise God, praise God! 

This round it took about a year of gut-wrenching work.  I owe my counselor a Costco pallet of Kleenex.  But after all those tears and all that snot, I finally had a breakthrough.  I had finally dealt with some of the nitty-gritty in my own heart: my self-hatred, my bitterness, and my walls of self-protection. 

Maybe you have noticed you too are in a vicious circle.  You swear each time that you won't make the same mistake again...and then you do.  You keep pulling yourself up by your bootstraps for a while but then fall down again.  Telling yourself to "get over it" isn't working.  Praying more isn't working.  Reading your Bible more isn't working.  Memorizing Bible verses isn't working.  Extensive altar time isn't working.

You've fought with the depression for years & the medication isn't going away any time soon.  You end up in that same fight AGAIN with your spouse.  Are you cutting again?  Are you drinking again?  Are you self-destructive in your behavior?  Are you chronically angry?  Are you chronically sad, sometimes a lot and sometimes mildly, but never really feeling better?  Why aren't you getting help?

Mostly, we don't want the stigma of  "going to a counselor."  The other argument I've heard, repeatedly, from several sources is, "I don't want to be in counseling for the rest of my life."  So you don't go at all?  Cancer is a long-term treatment plan but I don't recommend not treating cancer for fear of it taking a long time to deal with.  [BTW: there are times I have been able to deal with a single issue within 1 or 2 sessions.]


Finances can absolutely be an issue.  But many communities are working to get affordable care out there.  With a little bit of research, you should be able to find the resources available within your community.  (If you're reading this blog, you have the Internet.)  Also, if you have medical insurance, check with them.  Insurances have discovered that they spend less on physical problems of people who are emotionally healthy.  So, the math is on their side to pay for you to go. 

As a Christian, I insist on a certified professional biblical counselor.  Psychology is a relatively new, quickly-growing science.  There are some kooks out there.  But I can say after studying psychology...some in college (I was a Psych major for a year until I figured out that it was not my calling)...and being IN counseling, that so, so much of what this science discovers is already in the Bible.  An excellent resource is www.newlife.com where they have a listing of "certified-to-the-nines" counselors all over the country.  Check on their page for their radio program.  As you listen, you can begin to get a small sense of what a counseling session will be like. 

If you are not a believer, I still strongly encourage counseling.  Even non-Christian Psychology offers excellent, excellent coping skills.  There are ways to deal with strong emotions that are healthy and help one to grow versus get stuck in a cycle that hurts you & others around you.

Life happens.  Sometimes we manage to make bad things happen, sometimes bad things happen to us.  However it happens, we have scars. 

I am thankful for the abundant life God gave me in a counselors office.

I'm not done, but I'm done for now.