Day 19: I am Thankful for Discipline

As I continue in this blogging thing, I am realizing that there is a theme forming: "Sufferings brings about good."

Anxiety brings about good.  Pain brings about good.  Depression brings about good...eventually...especially for the believer in Christ.

"And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose for them." 

Romans 8:28 (NLT)

But I also believe that God is using the bad moments in life to work in the hearts of unbelievers as well.  He wants hearts.  He wants the unbelieving heart to come to Him and He wants the believing heart to come even closer.

Anyone ever heard this phrase, "God won't give you more than you can handle?"  This is one of those "bible verses" I hear quoted so often that sounds lovely to our western cultural ears.  We can handle it because we're strong and independent, right?  But that is not a verse in the Bible.  It goes in with a list of other phrases we've heard over & over until we think it's a Bible verse.

"God helps those who help themselves."
"Cleanliness is next to godliness."
"Early to morning, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, & wise."  etc.

Quite often, these cute little quips are in actuality from the writings of Ben Franklin.  Not a bad guy, mind you, but not on the level of Scripture.  

The "more than you can handle" verse is a spin-off of 1 Corinthians 10:13.

"No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind.  And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear.  But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can endure it."  (NIV)

Paul says that all the temptations or testing the Christians in Corinth are under are "common."  It's normal.  It happens a lot.  Also, the verse says that we're not tempted beyond what we can bear - because - God will provide a way out.

We're not "handling" on our own.

Depression is a pretty tough burden to bear.  But, because of the Cross, I don't have to bear it alone.  In fact, eventually, as I work through what God is working out in me, I don't have to bear it at all.  I will finally see "in the flesh" what Jesus' crucifixion & resurrection did for me "in the spirit."

God loves me.  He loves more than my own Daddy loves me.  My earthly Dad was willing to punish me.  He wanted to make into a lovely lady and that formation required spankings, groundings, scoldings, etc.

Since God gets to have control of the whole universe, He disciplines me, yes even punishing me, in order to turn me into the woman of God He knows me to be.  He doesn't spank me with a paddle.  He allows me to feel the consequences of my negative actions.  He's even able to cause me to feel the consequences of my negative attitudes.  Something my earthly father could try to curb, but honestly didn't have a lot of control over.

Hebrews says that I get disciplined because HE LOVES ME.  He will scold me.  (My conscience is pricked because I'm being too short with the boys.)  He will put me in time-out. (Anxiety may become a daily reality.)  Eventually, if I don't respond He will continually get louder. (In me, this loving punishment eventually results in out-and-out depression.)

So, I'm working to shift my attitude when the negative occurs.  How about you?

I shall finalize with an especially long Bible quote:

"After all, you have not yet given your lives in the struggle against sin.

And have you forgotten the encouraging words God spoke to you as His children? He said, 

  

 'My child don't make light of the LORD's discipline, 

     and don't give up when He corrects you.

    For the LORD disciplines those He loves, 

     and He punishes each one He accepts as His child.'

As you endure this divine discipline, remember that God is treating you as His own children.  Who has ever heard of a child who is never disciplined by his father?  If God doesn't discipline you as He does all of His children, it means that you are illegitimate and are not really His children at all.  Since we respected our earthly fathers who disciplined us, shouldn't we submit even more to the discipline of the Father of our spirits, and live forever? 

For our earthly fathers disciplined us for a few years, doing the best they knew how.  But God's discipline is always good for us, so that we might share in His holiness.  No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening - it's painful!  But afterwards there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.

So take a new grip with your tired hands and strengthen your weak knees."  Hebrews 12:4-12 (NLT)
Bold Emphasis added by "Moi"

Day 18: I am Thankful for Frustration

The irony inside me: By the grace of God, I seem to handle any tragedy thrown at me with grace, peace and strength.

For whatever reason, I am able to take tragedy or massive difficulty in stride.  I miscarried my 3rd child.  I cried.  I felt empty for a time.  But I was able to love my lost child and grieve and continue on.

A few years ago, I got very sick.  I dropped about 15 pounds in a month.  I couldn't even put my finger on what was wrong but I knew that if I didn't get better, I would die.  I had the sense that my body was expelling energy faster than I could replenish it.  I've talked to others who went through serious illness and they described the same feeling.  

I had not even told my husband yet that I could feel something "off."  My brother and his lovely family came to visit us in Alaska that Christmas.  I had the thought that I needed to enjoy this time together because it may be the last.  

Blessedly, after about 6 months, I recovered.  And emotionally, I handled this period well.  I wasn't depressed, or, I should say AS depressed as I had been.  

My husband was diagnosed with Diabetes a few years ago.  Some other family members and friends reacted with horror at this diagnosis.  I took it all in stride.  At least now we knew what we needed to do for him, right?  

There was no cry of, "Why God?"  I didn't rant and wail against the universe.  

But let me lose my keys...or my phone...or be running late...

All the above mentioned "little things" can set me off into a depressive state for DAYS.  Tragedy, I can handle, but frustration I can not.  

I thought I was alone until I heard a song on the radio.  I'm a little annoyed that I'm using a radio song because I want to be cool and goodness knows KLOVE is not cool.  But I need to swallow my pride and get my message through.  

(Incidentally, on the album art, that drawing the lower half of the body...genius!  I'd like to order that treatment on all photos of me from now on. I'm anti-photo shop on super-models.  I'm not anti-photo shop on this 34-year-old, post 4 children figure of my own.)

So, I'm not the only one who will forget to pay a bill and fall into a puddle of tears crying, "Why God?" But, after taking a step back and thinking about it, I come to realize one reason why the little stuff is what can send me into a tailspin.  

It happens more often.  God wants to be a part of my daily life and not just come in every once in a while and do damage control.  I'm not saying that He's not involved and among us when tragedy strikes, not at all.  But, for me, He uses the annoying frustrations of life to weed out the yucky inside me.  

That's why my computer gets a virus.  That's why I can't find those important papers that are due even though I put them in that specific spot so I wouldn't lose them.  That is why I can't find my frikin' phone...again!

Day 17: I am Thankful for Defenses

Healing can be scary.

You many think I'm crazy for saying that but it's true.  One facet of depression I've had is a chronic sense of disappointment.  Why?  Because if I'm prepared for disappointment then I won't get disappointed.  I'm not pessimistic at all.  (For today, bold = sarcasm font.)

It's a defense mechanism.

Defenses are not bad.  These walls we've built were a tool at one time to protect our hearts.  They were necessary and served a purpose.  But, as fallen humans, we tend to hold onto them much longer than we need to.

Time is considered by modern culture to be a downright magical force.  If given enough time, non-living matter become living.  Amoebic slime becomes monkey.  Time heals all wounds.  NOT.

Time does not heal emotional wounds.  Counselors say that the limbic system, the part of your brain that deals with emotion, is not even aware that time exists.

Have you ever over-reacted to a situation?  I know a girl, I'll call her "Mary," that suffered childhood abuse.  She's now an adult who hasn't encountered physical abuse in decades.  Mary got into a verbal argument "Brian" three years ago.  Mary still talks about the time Brian attacked her to such description that someone listening to the story might think that Brian actually hit her.  Brian did no such thing.  Brian simply had an argument with her.  Brian is completely unaware that Mary still views him so negatively.

What happened is that Mary's limbic system simply saw "threat."  She emotionally reacted to the situation as if it was an abusive event.  Her limbic system had no idea that it had been decades since Mary was last abuse.

Defenses help us survive.  God gave them to us.  But once the traumatic event has left we need to let go of them or we are going to miss out on life.

My big defense: stay down.  I keep myself emotionally down.  I think of myself as bad.  Because then it won't hurt as much when someone lets me know that I'm bad.  "Duh, I already knew that."

But as I refuse to let my defense go, I block out life.  I don't try achieve.  I give up before I start.

Depression has been my magnifying glass, exposing and clarifying exactly which defenses I need to let go.  As I'm struggling, I've had to ask God what it is I'm fighting against.  What is my heart needing to release?

"You can go to God Most High to hide.

You can go to God All-Powerful for protection.

I say to the Lord, 'You are my place of safety, my fortress.

My God, I trust in You.'

God will save you from hidden dangers

and from deadly diseases.

You can go to him for protection.

He will cover you like a bird spreading its wings over its babies.

You can trust him to surround you and protect you like a shield."  

Psalm 91:1-4 (ERV)

As my defenses fall away I am left plain.  This exposure is terrifying but I must learn to let God be my Defender.  I am just beginning to figure out how to surrender my battles and scars to Him but a couple of things I've discovered along the journey:

• He can defend me in a way that won't harm others or myself.  
• I've found as I've started to trust God with my defense, that bad things still happen. (Shocking!) But He's holding my heart so I'm able to see the scary with His eyes, His perspective.  Situations are no longer bigger than they actually are.  No more panic.  No more terror.  

If you find yourself over-reacting, stop and take stock.  What are you REALLY scared of?  Who are you really fighting against?  Ask the Holy Spirit to guide you away from your own defenses and ask Him to be your Defender instead.

Day 16: I am Thankful for Survival

I've heard people at church say, "I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have Jesus in my life."  

I'm not one of those people because I know exactly where I would have ended up.  I would have been one of two places.  It's likely I would have ended up in a mental institution.  It is honestly more likely I would have been dead from suicide. 

I've noticed several reasons people commit or contemplate endings one's own life: 

1. PAIN - Pain can be emotional.  When depression has given you nothing but pain for weeks, months, years or decades, you can begin to feel that there is no other option for you in life but to hurt.  And there are times when I just wanted the pain.to.stop.  I didn't care how.  I just needed it to stop.  

Pain can be physical.  I went through an illness where I had intense pain across my chest for several months.  All tests turned out to show nothing abnormal.  I was finally put on a new anti-depressant to see if it was in my head.  I was given a diagnosis of fibromyalgia even though my symptoms didn't match those listed in the brochure at all.  I would kneel on the floor and lean over the couch & just rock.  I was on narcotic pain killers.  It was a constant grinding that wore me down until I was exhausted mentally, emotionally and physically.  I finally got a proper diagnosis and was given, get this, Aleeve.  I was functional again in a matter of days.  Because I finally found a doctor that was able to diagnose the correct problem.  This was about a 4 month period of constant pain.  I can only imagine what people feel when they are in pain for years.  

2. ANGER - I have to admit that there are times when I thought of my own death as the perfect way to show this person or that person just how much they hurt me.  Then they would finally understand how they made me feel.  It wasn't as clearly defined as those two sentences when it was roaring through my brain, but that's unltimately what I wanted.  I wanted to give a big giant finger to the person who hurt me.  

I didn't even realize that's what I was wanting until I watched a good friend of mine traverse several suicide attempts from her husband.  From the outside, I could see in him what I couldn't see in me.  I watched what his attempts did to her and her children and knew that no matter how angry I was inside, my loved ones didn't deserve that kind of revenge.  

3. FEAR - Fear can incapacitate.  Sometimes, my fear of the future or financial ruin was so terrifying that the thought of death was less scary.  I know that this is thinking is messed up, but like I've already said many times, I was broken.  I knew that if I was dead, then I wouldn't have to face these troubles anymore.  I wouldn't have to struggle anymore.

No matter what sick reasoning I was using, it all came to same ending:  

DESPAIR - There was the belief that life could not get better.  

I never quite got up the "courage" to honestly try to commit suicide.  And sadly, there were times that I thought it made me pathetic and weak because I was afraid of the pain of dying.  When anyone is in that much darkness, the thinking is so contorted. 

I now know that God was holding me together.  The only reason I was able to see suicide for what it was is because the Holy Spirit was working in my heart.  I was held together by Him.  

Eventually, suicide was no longer a temptation.  After watching how hard it was on my friend's family I knew that it just wasn't an option for me.   

It's not an option for you either. 

More than a decade later, I now know that life does get better...for a time.  There are ebbs & flows.  There are hills and valleys.  There's a high tide and a low tide.  No matter how bad it is, it will change.  

Visiting some of my old thoughts is exhausting, so I'm done for now.  

Day 15: I am Thankful Jesus Hates Religion Too

Ok, if you ask me if I'm religious, I'll say yes.  Because I do think that that's how I'd be perceived by the majority of the world.  I don't want to present a false picture of myself and most people, if they were to ask, would just want a "yes" or "no" answer.  At that point they aren't usually in the mood for the, "It's a Relationship not a Religion," speech.

Also, the Bible itself is not afraid to call Christianity a religion, albeit there is an implied asterix:

"Pure and genuine religion is the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you." James 1:27 (NLT)

That kind of religion is excellent.  I have a friend who works with teenage mothers.  Some of the girls have been kicked out of their houses and she has cared to the point of letting them live in her home with her family.  Excellent religion.

But when I say the word "religion," caring for others is not the first picture that comes to my mind.  More commonly the term is associated with stodgy people who are putting their noses where they don't belong trying to control their own behavior and the behavior of everyone around them.  For the rest of my discourse today, this empty definition is what I mean when I refer to "religion."

My story: I grew up in and around a very religious culture.  There were a lot of rules.  A LOT of rules.  And I don't feel that it came down to me from my family directly, but more from the general culture of the groups we were surrounded by at the time.  A LOT of rules.  Occasionally, my mom would firmly hand them to me in "stern voice" but I also know that she was giving to me what had been given to her.  A LOT of rules.

I was always taught that we were saved by grace.  That means that salvation from sin was not earned by doing anything, it was a gift that Christ gave us in exchange for us giving our hearts (our souls) to Him.  That was free.  But the ability to please God AFTER salvation.  That required work.  A LOT of work.  A LOT of rules.

In the 80's and early 90's, at least among my circle of evangelical families and churches, there was a big push for what is now called "Formula Christianity."  There was a belief that if you followed a certain set of rules mentioned in the Bible, then you would have God's favor and you would be blessed.  If you did not follow the rules...yep, you were cursed.

Outside of my own behavior, my family ended up being on the more liberal side of the rules.  (You'd think that being home-schooled, not being allowed to listen to secular music, not being allowed to date, and not being allowed to wear a two-piece swimsuit would be considered pretty strict...but not in this environment.)  Then the word got out that my parent's marriage was in trouble.  Divorce is a bad, bad word in this religious world.  Like, murder would be better.  The family, including myself, ended up being excluded from the formula.  We didn't make it.  We didn't qualify and there was nothing I could do about it...

...except make sure that I grew up to do "the formula" right.  Insert perfectionism immediately followed by failure.  Frustration followed failure.  Emotional pain followed frustration.  As the cycle prolonged depression followed the emotional pain.  Eventually, mental torment followed the depression.

But, of course, to be religiously perfect you have to read the Bible.  And eventually the Scripture I was reading began to work it's way into my battered brain.

Jesus hated this kind of religion.  The "rules make me acceptable to God" kind of religion.  When confronting this issue he was not a sweet timid girly man with a soft British accent.  He got violent.  He went after the religious in the temple with a whip.  Not just a random whip He happened upon conveniently, either.  He sat and made a whip to tear people's stuff up.  Pre-meditated.

He had this to say:

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites!  You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when you have succeeded, you make them twice as much a child of hell as you are." 

Matthew 23:15 (NIV)

You see, He loves us.  He wants us.  Religion reserves Him for those who are good enough to deserve Him.

God despises anything that makes it hard for us to find Him.  

I never managed to be good enough.  I stopped trying.  I began to trust Him to simply love me.  I gave Him my heart.  And after I relaxed, He began to change me from the inside out.  He began to make me more like Him.  I began to blossom.

God's not depressed.  As I become like Him I become less depressed.  It's slow.  Sometimes better and sometimes worse but always consistently forward towards freedom.

This video has been bouncing around quite a bit so I'm going to jump on the bandwagon, too.  (It hurts my prideful side, though.)

Yeeeeah, still not quite done, but I'm done for now.

Day 14: I am Thankful for the Ugly

Ugly: The loss of interest in EVERYTHING.  The days I lost the ability to care about diddly squat.

Ugly: Days when my internal dialogue was only, "You'll never be good enough.  You can't even do the basics.  You suck.  You're a bad mother.  You're a bad wife.  Etc."

Ugly: The days when I was afraid to speak to my children, and tried to avoid speaking, because my thoughts and attitude where so polluted that only trash was likely to come out. 

Depression is ugly.  It leads me to apathy and chronic exhaustion.  It robs me of my family when I have to disconnect to avoid hurting them.  It is a messy, messy configuration.

And it's geometrical shape is a spiral.  Downwards.

Once the sadness, bitterness and slow anger initiated, it would continue to build.  Or maybe a better description would be to say depression would continue to tear down. It would use a hammer and a chisel until the structure weakened and the wrecking ball came.

It was like being in a pot of water.  Fire under the pan that would increase in increments until I realized I was boiling.

There's an illustration in the Bible that sounds just like what I went through.  When metal, say silver or gold, is pulled out of the mountain, it is a thin vein of pretty surrounded by plain ol' rock.  The oldest way to refine metal is to heat it up, to melt it.  The more precious metals would sink to the bottom.  The unimportant materials like the rock, called "dross," would float to the top. The refiner would then scrape or blow the dross off.  Then they would let the metal cool and repeat the process.  Each time the precious metal would be cleaned out a little more, becoming a little more pure.

"Behold, I have refined you, but not as silver; I have tried you in the furnace of affliction."  Isaiah 48:10 (ESV)

"Furnace of Affliction."  Sounds a lot like my depression cycle.  When the heat comes on me, the nasty comes out.  He wants to remove the ugly from my heart.  Sometimes my ugly is close to the surface, and only requires a quick burst of fire.  Some of my ugly was buried deep.  It required a slow simmer of 20 years until I reached the boiling point and the nasty came to the very top. 

And then the dross was gone.  I felt better.  I felt like a clean person.  To be noted: I no longer felt like that horrible dirty person I had been thinking I was.  I didn't suck anymore.  I wasn't a bad mother anymore.  Life changed.

In the last two days my computer got a virus and my ceiling has started dripping water mere hours before a snow storm is supposed to hit.  Blasted monkeys with their blasted wrenches prodded me to once again take out my frustrations on my children.  But I felt the Holy Spirit say, "No."  I stepped back.  I didn't yell at them...that time. 

I'm thankful to see the ugly because that means it can be removed. 

I'm not done, but I'm done for now. 

Day 13: I am Thankful for Forever

There is an aspect to my worldview, my belief system, that has probably held me together more than any other idea. 

It is the knowledge that this world isn't all there is. 

I now believe that life with depression can still be "good," primarily with treatment.  But when it was really bad, dank and dark, I certainly did not feel that hopeful. 

At my worst, I was convinced that life would never be anything but awful.  When I would cycle around, I was convinced that even if I did get a little better, the depression would always come back.

When mental illness wasn't drowning me, it was haunting me. 

The glue that kept me from spinning completely to pieces was the belief that there is another life.  One that has been promised to me to be so amazing I can't even begin to imagine it. 

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Revelation 21:4 (NIV)

This belief in something better kept me from ending it all.  I may not have been able to drum up the faith that this life would ever get better, but I had the future to look forward to, after death.  Somehow, this belief never drove me to try to commit suicide, to get there faster.  Instead, when the malignant voice in my head was unbearable, it helped me hold on just one more day...because I know that day is coming.  


Eternal perspective.  It helps. 

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

Day 12: I am Thankful I am Helpless

Watch a TV talk show.  I'll tell you what it will say.

"Believe in yourself."  

"Dream big enough." 

"You are worth it." 

"You can DO it."

"What is your heart telling you to do? Do that." 

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...(1..2..Tree)

Our talk shows, our movies, our story books all want us to know that we have the power to make ourselves better.  How very ego-centric of us.

All of the above statements sound good.  They make you feel all warm and fuzzy like a extra grande cup of mocha macchiato espresso latte.  

But if you look at our society in general, you'll notice that they don't work.  At least, they didn't for me.

I had no more ability to whittle out of my depression than I would be able to keep a two-story fall from breaking a bone.  I tried to be positive.  I tried to change my ways.  I failed...a LOT...

When I tried to work out my inner turmoil on my own I always, always managed to fudge it up.  For instance, I would say to myself, "I'm not going to be bullied."  And dag nabit, no one bullied me.  No one dared.  Instead I put my emotional hands into fists and created an impenetrable wall.  A wall that bit anyone who got too close and shut me off from the rest of the world.  All I did was succeed in creating a new problem.  One that not only hurt me, but hurt others around me as well.

It was never my intention to maim anyone, but I did.  It is the nature of humanity to be entrapped in sin.  You see, when "sin" entered the world, it didn't just make us cuss, smoke, and chew (or rape, enslave and murder).  It fractured EVERYTHING.

God knows about my condition.  And He didn't just sit by and watch me implode.  He sent Someone, Who loved me so much He was willing to be tortured and murdered to rescue me.  Instead of watching me wither, He went to war and conquered sin.

So, I told Him.  "I tried to fix this mess myself instead of asking You, the Conqueror to fix it.  I'm sorry I made a vow to fix it in my own sinful power.  Will YOU fix it inside me?  Heal my pain?  Heal my fears?"

It worked. 

The emotional sunburn is gone.  I've lost my knee-jerk over reaction.  I'm able to open up to others who love me and want to support me.

A fear of bullying is just one example.  Maybe you've decided that you won't let any man/woman break your heart again.  Maybe you've decided that you'll never be financially broke again.  Maybe you've decided that you'll never be overweight again.

"Peace I leave with you, MY peace I give to you.  Not as the world gives do I give to you.  Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." John 14:27 ESV (emphasis added)

I know that not everyone will agree with me but the fact is that I know I was utterly helpless to fix me.  Then the Holy Spirit stepped in.  He produced perfect healing with no negative side effects.  Something I was unable to do on my own.

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

Day 11: I am Thankful for my Kids

Depression absolutely kills motivation.  One of the quirks about depression is that if you have depression, you are often too depressed to get help for your depression.  I know that when I was at my worst I was completely unable to function.  I had difficulty getting out of bed.  I had difficulty changing my clothes.   I had difficulty taking a shower.  I had difficulty feeding the children. 

I was unable to get help on my own.  I, instead, had a wonderful mother-in-law who called me every ten minutes one day until I made the doctor's appointment.  Then my husband gave me the choice of driving myself to the doctor or he was driving me to the doctor.  I thank them. 

Blessedly, these days I have a few other motivators. 

1. I never, ever, ever, ever want to be in that dark, evil place again.  So I will get help before I get that bad, while I still have the ability to motivate myself towards help. 

2. Their names are Addison, Wyatt, Fischer and Kellen.  Ages 11, 9, 3 and 1.  They deserve to have a mother.  They deserve to have a mother that is engaged and not disconnected.  They deserve to have a mother that is able to reign in her emotions to a healthy level.  The thought of causing them pain because of my pain is terrifying to the core.  

Along with simply getting myself healthy so I can be a first-class mommy, I also want to set an example.  I am aware that statistically, depression runs in families.  I believe there are genetic and spiritual traits that we pass to our children.  If I look backwards, throughout my extended family, I can definitely see the trend in reverse.  The thought that I may pass depression on to my children makes me cold.  The most important thing I can do is to create a healthy environment for them to grow up in.  Their hope is decreased if they have an unstable mother. 

I want to create an environment within my home where getting help is honestly not a big deal.  Life can be hard.  Life will be hard.  I want to get them help when it's hard without making them feel like they are failing.

"Direct your children onto the right path,

and when they are older, they will not leave it." 

Proverbs 22:6 (NLT)

God honestly didn't mean for us to do this life business on our own.  He created this concept of community. 

I'm not done but I'm done for now. 

Day 10: I am Thankful for Church

This installment is actually pretty difficult to put to paper for all to see but I set out to be honest and open concerning my depression.  And judging from the messages I've been getting, I now know I'm not the only one who has felt the way I've felt.  

When I'm thankful for church I don't mean in the typical "churchy" sense.  Yes it is the place where believers gather to worship together by singing and listening to preaching and teaching and to learning how to give and yadda, yadda, yadda, all that stuff.

I want to talk about one purpose church has served for me. 

Church is where the fact that I am struggling slaps me full on in the face.  When I am broken and in a dark place, church is the place where I see all the other people who aren't as broken as me.  Yes, I realize that everyone has their problems, but lets face it, church is where people are pretty. Church is where everyone around me is happy. 

Cognitively, I understand that other people have issues too.  But emotionally, I have a difficult time connecting what I know with what I seem to see.  I am not thinking of hypocrisy.  That is not my discussion for today.  At my old church I knew people well enough to know that they were going through hard times and yet the still had a genuine joy.   

The part that is wrong, the part that is broken, is the dialogue inside me.  

At the current church I attend, I'm still fairly new.  I don't know the problems of the lady sitting next to me.  I just know that she got here before me so she was on-time while I was late.  I passed by her car and it was clean whereas mine is dirty.  It's likely her house is in better shape than mine.  She was not lazy and overslept like I did.  Her hair is not frizzy, nor slightly wet because she didn't take the time to dry it, nor did she forget to put on her make-up.  She's skinnier than me.  When she smiles it reaches her eyes.  Etc...at sonic speed.

This thinking is not healthy.  We all know that comparison is the wrong thing to do.  It is not wise.  But it is a genuine glimpse of what goes on in my head when it's black in there. 

"But when they measure themselves by one another

and compare themselves with one another, 

they are without understanding."  

2 Corinthians 10:12b (ESV)

The self-hatred can be on full tilt roar by the time I reach the parking lot on some Sunday mornings. 

Thankfully, I haven't had any of these tortuous Sunday morning services lately.  But today I am thankful for them.  For one, something WAS broken inside me.  The Holy Spirit used the torment of my thoughts to drive me towards Him and towards getting help.  Getting help drove me towards healing. 

If you're tormented by self-hatred and feeling inadequate, you are not alone.

Done for now.

How to Sanitize Your Floors in 3 Easy Steps.

Step 1: 

I had to run to Wal-mart.  (Ewww.)  I got back a couple of minutes after 8 pm.  8:00 o'clock is bedtime.  While I was gone the babies, ages 3 and 21 months, found a way to run naked.  They seem to do this when I leave them home with Dad.  It can result in disaster.  I came back home to my husband spraying the kitchen floor with bleach.  The conversation went something like this:

Derick: "Be careful where you step!  I'm not sure if I got it all!"

Me: "What happened?"

Derick: "Well, Fischer told me he peed.  I was distracted.  I didn't really believe him.  Then I heard giggles in the kitchen.  Fischer said, 'Daddy, we're jumping over my pee-pee.  Well, Kellen's just walking over it'." (Ewww.)

Derick face-palmed and looked at me sort of desperately. 

Me: "You get the floor, I'll bathe the kids."

Step 2:

I went to bathe the children.  I turned on the water and made sure the temperature was friendly.  I then placed the babies in the tub as it filled up. I turned my back to get a washcloth from the basket on the counter.  Screams, terrified screams, erupted from the bathtub.  The 1-year-old played with the faucet and turned the shower on.  They were both standing up in the tub and screaming in terror.  I quickly turned the shower off and I laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

Kellen was DONE with bath time (maybe for forever).  I had to wrestle him to get him very quickly soaped up and rinsed off.  I was soaking wet in the 2 minutes it took to get him semi-clean.  He is too short to climb out of the tub on his own very well but I caught him as he jumped out.  Poor child is traumatized.

Step 3:

As soon as I got the kids dried off, Fischer eyes grew to saucers, "I need to poop!"  So I pointed back at the soaking wet bathroom.  Kellen, adores his big brother and wants to be with him at all times, including pooping time.  Fischer decided that he didn't want Kellen in the bathroom with him, so he got off the potty to push Kellen out of the bathroom and shut the door.  Then I heard a wail emanate from the bathroom.  Went in to to investigate and Fischer had been unable to make it BACK to the potty in time.  (Again, Ewww.)  Now I have to clean up the mess in the bathroom and sanitize the floors.  I also have to fold the laundry in the dryer so I can rotate the laundry around and wash the bathmats.   I am once again super thankful for the "Sanitary" cycle on my washing machine. 

I got the babies jammied and put on Little Einsteins while I finished cleaning up.  It normally takes about 20 minutes for me to get Fischer into bed.  Last night it took an hour and a half.  But, hey, at least my floors were clean.