Today I have a less revealing secret to share, which only requires that my audience not to talk to my boss. I am hoping to move back to Canada, and have been searching for a job in the Toronto area for about 9 months. For those who don't know, my family moved to Maryland from Ontario about 14 years ago. In 2006 we became American citizens. But the thing is, that despite how blessed I have been living and working here, I want to go back to the homeland.
The process to be eligible to work in Canada as a social worker has not been too difficult, though it has been expensive. I have spent over $600 in less than a year to maintain registration with the Ontario College of Social Workers and Social Service Workers (OCSWSSW - catchy huh?) so that I can obtain employment in Ontario. I have been registered since April 2011, and I have been applying for jobs fairly regularly since then. I easily applied to 50 jobs. I have not heard back from one single job in that time, which is ridiculously discouraging.
So here is where things get tricky; is the lack of response from the good people of Canada God's way of saying he does not want me to move back to Canada, or is this simply another one of those really cool tests of faith being placed in my path? God's will is annoyingly tough to figure out.
My reasons for moving back are pretty extensive. First of all, if I am going to do it, I should be single when it happens, since in my experience, most American guys are not so keen on moving to Canada. They do like to quote the "Blame Canada" episode of South Park though. So, currently I am STILL single (there is a whole bunch of blogs on that topic in my future) and now is a good time to make such a life-altering move. In addition, I miss the culture there, the people and the pace of life. When I was in Barrie, Ont for a wedding a few years ago, I was overwhelmed by how happy I was surrounded by other Canadians, it felt perfect. As I drove home to MD from that trip, I kept feeling like I was leaving my home.
The overwhelming reason to try and return to Canada has a lot to do with my work, and what I do for a living. I like to help people. I'm trained to help people, and I am pretty good at it too. But in the US we have this broken health care system which is a significant barrier to me being able to help people the way I want to. In addition, the health care system here makes things worse for people who are already struggling, and I have no way to fix that. I'm a "fixer." It's in my nature to solve the problems of other people, and I can't fix this. I work with patients every day who have to make choices between a roof over their head or health care and I am tired of it. Let me be clear, Canada does not have a perfect system either, but it is a stronger, more cohesive system where everyone is in and no one is left out. Basic health care is a guarantee in Canada, which means as a social worker, I will get to spend more time doing what I love - helping people, and less time trying to figure out how to pay for it.
I think that the thing that is abundantly clear when you are trying to make a change in your life, is that we generally do not have as much control over that change as we want to. Not only that, but once we decide we want to do something, it is exceptionally easy to get all wrapped up in our own plans, and assume that because our plans are so big and wonderful, it must be what God wants for us.
Matthew 10:39 The Message
If your first concern is to look after yourself, you'll never find yourself. But if you forget about yourself and look to me, you'll find both yourself and me.
I'm already on to the idea that if I try and make this change in my own wisdom, I am likely to fail. But obedience is a difficult behavior to master, and even when I am trying to look to Him for the right path, I sometimes get caught up in myself, and lose my focus.
James 1:5-7 The Message
If you don't know what you're doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. You'll get his help, and won't be condescended to when you ask for it. Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought.
When it comes to moving back to Canada, I am asking God for help, and I believe I have counted the cost. It will mean leaving my incredible family, and being a significant distance away from their loving shelter. It will involve leaving some incredible friends behind. There will be new and challenging things to learn since I have never worked in Canada before. It will certainly mean a time of isolation while I settle in; before I have made new connections. And possibly most distressing of all; it will mean giving up soft shell crab, because believe me, Ontario has no idea how to made a decent crab cake...
In many ways it is kind of crazy to take such an unnecessary step. Why change everything when I don't have to? The truth is, I have been feeling like I "have to" for a while now. I think everything needs to change. I am restless and feel this burden to step outside my comfort zone. So I have my big beautiful plan, but I am wise to the fact that God sometimes uses "MY" plan to unfold HIS plan. So, I am also on the lookout for a reason to stay; just in case.
I still think God's will pretty tough to figure out, but I know I will not see it unfold in my life unless I am looking to Him. There are times when we think we have figured out what God wants, and then everything changes and we are left wondering why we went down that path. When I was depressed, trying to figure out God's will was particularly irritating - why would God want me to be so sad? What could he have been going for there?
1 Peter 4:12-13 The Message
Friends, when life gets really difficult, don't jump to the conclusion that God isn't on the job. Instead, be glad that you are in the very thick of what Christ experienced. This is a spiritual refining process, with glory just around the corner.
There is a plan. We are a part of that plan. To understand that plan always be looking to Him. You are not alone, he didn't start working and then just get bored in the middle. He is carrying the plan to completion (Philippians 1:6) whether we can see it or not. And GLORY is just around the corner.
Thank God for that!
L
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Going Naked
Talking about my big bad secrets has been both terrifying and liberating. I really don't think God means for us to keep secrets like those, I suspect he would prefer we shine a light on all our struggles so that others can help us through it. Hiding things is clearly a human condition.
Genesis 2:25 The Message
The two of them, the Man and his Wife, were naked, but they felt no shame.
Genesis 3:7-10 The Message
Immediately the two of them did "see what's really going on"—saw themselves naked! They sewed fig leaves together as makeshift clothes for themselves.
When they heard the sound of God strolling in the garden in the evening breeze, the Man and his Wife hid in the trees of the garden, hid from God.
God called to the Man: "Where are you?"
He said, "I heard you in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked. And I hid."
That's really not what God was going for. He was planning on having his people live in freedom, without shame. But we pretty much messed that up, and now we keep secrets all the time. During my struggles, I wrote the following poem. (For the record, I am of the mindset that poetry is only interesting to the person who writes it, but give it a chance here, I promise to read your melancholy poem sometime if you like.)
Illusions of Me
Face not reveling former defeat
When wistful image and heart meet
I smile so hidden thoughts won’t speak
Through this secret frown I keep
And hope this mask of mine not transparent
Displays the light heart that I just can’t
I let the outside become who I am
To friends whose blindness won’t understand
Completely accepting of what they see
Their illusions perceive a different me
I become the illusion they demand
Conform to this myth but unable to stand
A weak spirit, cancerous to my hope
Lames my joys and I cannot cope
I lose focus of the hand before my eye
Disbelief simple faith will fill the hole
That this remedy of grace will soothe the soul
I clasp my hands in fingered knot
Driving away depression demons I’ve fought
Letting each failure fall with each damp tear
Puddles of sin defeat and pain lie here
I open up an imprisoned heart to be free
Receive a flood of grace so heavenly
Forgiveness covering once permanent dismay
Finding renewal in a brand new day
When you have a secret like depression, alcoholism, pornography addiction, self injury, drug abuse, sexual assault, disordered eating, gambling, or any one of hundreds of other issues, you are not about to tell droves of people about how you are experiencing something totally outside God's plan; that you are actually naked under all those clothes (read: lies.)
And here's the kicker, of all the people that we hide from, the church tends to be number one. Christians are good people, they are just trying to do the right thing, but they have a habit of being a little high and mighty about some things. I always think about the Casting Crowns song, "Does Anybody Hear Her?"
"If judgement looms under every steeple
If lofty glances from lofty people
Can't see past her scarlet letter
And we never even met her"
I have totally been one of those lofty people. That's another human condition. Thinking that our sin is not as bad as another sin. God has been pretty clear about that one; sin is sin. There are no "degrees of sin." And yet, among Christians, sometimes we assign those degrees in our heads, and judge accordingly. This is not a great move on our part since if there is one theme in the Bible it's that ALL have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Rom 3:23). We all need grace.
What would our churches be like if we revealed our secrets? What would they be like if we confessed our sin to each other as well as God? Well it would probably be a hot mess there for a while since knowing all those secrets would probably overwhelm us, but ultimately the idea of the church being the safest place to tell your secret is I'm pretty sure what God has been hoping for all along.
When I was struggling I did not have any interest in seeing a Christian counselor. I was afraid, and ashamed of what I was going through, and I was pretty sure a Christian therapist would tell me to confess and just pray it out. (Which is of course, not how they practice, but I didn't know that at the time). Since I had already tried the confessing and praying thing, I knew I was gonna need more help than that. I also avoided talking to people in the church about what I was going through for the same reason.
I fully believe we would blow the roof off our churches if we trusted the power of living in truth. Sure, I'm being idealistic, but if you can't be idealistic about radical revival in the church, there's really very little point in being a Christian at all. Because here's the thing - God wants radical change in his people. He does not want us to hide from him or each other. I wish I had a better grasp on that when I was busy keeping secrets.
Anyway, my big point here, is that no one is exempt from having secrets, because we all do. The question is, can we learn to trust each other more, and help each other attain the freedom that comes from living in the Light. I say, lose the fig leaves, just go naked.
L
Genesis 2:25 The Message
The two of them, the Man and his Wife, were naked, but they felt no shame.
Genesis 3:7-10 The Message
Immediately the two of them did "see what's really going on"—saw themselves naked! They sewed fig leaves together as makeshift clothes for themselves.
When they heard the sound of God strolling in the garden in the evening breeze, the Man and his Wife hid in the trees of the garden, hid from God.
God called to the Man: "Where are you?"
He said, "I heard you in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked. And I hid."
That's really not what God was going for. He was planning on having his people live in freedom, without shame. But we pretty much messed that up, and now we keep secrets all the time. During my struggles, I wrote the following poem. (For the record, I am of the mindset that poetry is only interesting to the person who writes it, but give it a chance here, I promise to read your melancholy poem sometime if you like.)
Illusions of Me
My eyes look up to the glass
Paned
reflections of my pastFace not reveling former defeat
When wistful image and heart meet
I smile so hidden thoughts won’t speak
Through this secret frown I keep
And hope this mask of mine not transparent
Displays the light heart that I just can’t
I let the outside become who I am
To friends whose blindness won’t understand
Completely accepting of what they see
Their illusions perceive a different me
I become the illusion they demand
Conform to this myth but unable to stand
A weak spirit, cancerous to my hope
Lames my joys and I cannot cope
I lose focus of the hand before my eye
Disbelief simple faith will fill the hole
That this remedy of grace will soothe the soul
I clasp my hands in fingered knot
Driving away depression demons I’ve fought
Letting each failure fall with each damp tear
Puddles of sin defeat and pain lie here
I open up an imprisoned heart to be free
Receive a flood of grace so heavenly
Forgiveness covering once permanent dismay
Finding renewal in a brand new day
When you have a secret like depression, alcoholism, pornography addiction, self injury, drug abuse, sexual assault, disordered eating, gambling, or any one of hundreds of other issues, you are not about to tell droves of people about how you are experiencing something totally outside God's plan; that you are actually naked under all those clothes (read: lies.)
And here's the kicker, of all the people that we hide from, the church tends to be number one. Christians are good people, they are just trying to do the right thing, but they have a habit of being a little high and mighty about some things. I always think about the Casting Crowns song, "Does Anybody Hear Her?"
"If judgement looms under every steeple
If lofty glances from lofty people
Can't see past her scarlet letter
And we never even met her"
I have totally been one of those lofty people. That's another human condition. Thinking that our sin is not as bad as another sin. God has been pretty clear about that one; sin is sin. There are no "degrees of sin." And yet, among Christians, sometimes we assign those degrees in our heads, and judge accordingly. This is not a great move on our part since if there is one theme in the Bible it's that ALL have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Rom 3:23). We all need grace.
What would our churches be like if we revealed our secrets? What would they be like if we confessed our sin to each other as well as God? Well it would probably be a hot mess there for a while since knowing all those secrets would probably overwhelm us, but ultimately the idea of the church being the safest place to tell your secret is I'm pretty sure what God has been hoping for all along.
When I was struggling I did not have any interest in seeing a Christian counselor. I was afraid, and ashamed of what I was going through, and I was pretty sure a Christian therapist would tell me to confess and just pray it out. (Which is of course, not how they practice, but I didn't know that at the time). Since I had already tried the confessing and praying thing, I knew I was gonna need more help than that. I also avoided talking to people in the church about what I was going through for the same reason.
I fully believe we would blow the roof off our churches if we trusted the power of living in truth. Sure, I'm being idealistic, but if you can't be idealistic about radical revival in the church, there's really very little point in being a Christian at all. Because here's the thing - God wants radical change in his people. He does not want us to hide from him or each other. I wish I had a better grasp on that when I was busy keeping secrets.
Anyway, my big point here, is that no one is exempt from having secrets, because we all do. The question is, can we learn to trust each other more, and help each other attain the freedom that comes from living in the Light. I say, lose the fig leaves, just go naked.
L
Restoration
I had a glorious childhood.
My formative years were pretty much awesome 24/7. I was energetic, curious, loud, imaginative and playful. My world consisted of two super fun parents, who read to me every night, put on puppet shows for me, encouraged me and when needed, disciplined me in a fair and loving way. I also had this really fun little sister, who was four years younger than me, and almost completely accepting of everything I told her. I think we lived a pretty simple life the four of us. Sure, we moved more often than the average family, and Lord knows my parents have spent more money on new carpet than most, but in general, we were just like everyone else. I met all those developmental milestones psychiatrists are always concerned about. I was a little impulsive, which led to several emergency room visits, and I was far too bossy, but otherwise, I was a normal kid.
When I looked at my life years later, seated in my therapist's office, it was pretty hard to think of anything that could have triggered the incredible mental pain I was now in. In particular, there was no identifiable reason for my problems with self injury. Many people who struggle with self harm have themselves been harmed in some way. They tend to be people who experienced mental and/or physical abuse, sexual assault, or trauma. There are many who present with an eating disorder, or a personality disorder. But not me. I had a pretty limited scope of what I could blame my problems on. As you can imagine, this pretty much made it worse.
As a licensed social worker myself, with the same license now, that my therapist had then, I can vouch for the fact that when a patient has an issue like depression or self injury, most times there is a catalyst for those problems. My poor therapist was stuck trying to help a young woman who had no explaination for why things suddenly started to suck and why they stayed that way. Without a point of origin to work with, coping with depression was a much harder task. Therapy visits could not center around having been abused and focusing on working through that experience. No such trauma had occured, I had a glorious childhood! Many times, in that office, I felt kind of stupid for being sad. What was there to be sad about?
So even within the mental health community I did not fit. I have already written about how once I started to stuggle, I didn't feel like my faith fit anymore either. I think this may be why my depression was resistant to treatment and lasted as long as it did. I didn't know anyone like me, and I felt incredibly isolated. And when the depression became a fully-formed all consuming, day to day reality, I also lost the ability and desire to write. Back in high school I had started fervently and diligently writing at least two pages every day. Prayers, stories, poems, I have a dozen journals packed with the moments of my life. Depression took my favorite way to sort out my feelings about friends, family, God and life, and held it as a prisoner of war.
Journal Entry, November 1, 2001
I feel so tremendously guilty for being depressed. I feel like I have let people down. I hate this so much and I can't free myself from it. I've tried, I really have!
So I get thinking, well maybe I'm not really depressed. I mean I just can't be. It's someone else's life, not mine. I don't believe this is real, it can't be! I'm a Christian, this is not supposed to happen to people like me.
The thing that scares me the most is: am I letting God down? I mean, I'm so sad, how can that be of God? If I am so sad, so broken, so messed up, does that mean God is not with me anymore? What did I do to end up here? Why am I so far from Him?
It was desperate entries like this one, which eventually led to me not wanting to write at all. I kept asking all these questions that I had no answers to, and it just made my frustration with depression worse. I stopped consistently journaling shortly after that entry.
Writing was pretty much reserved for school after that, and while I still wrote occasionally, I never really felt the same passion for it. That is, up until about a week ago, when the passion for writing and desire to get back to it, overwhelmed me and sparked the idea for this blog.
I had a glorious childhood. For a reason that is still not clear to me, I suffered with some inexplicable, overwhelming pain, and when that pain disappeared, my desire to write came back. And here I am, on the other side of something I was pretty convinced was going to last forever. I am being restored, and this little spot on the internet is a part of that restoration.
I Need You - The Swift
L
My formative years were pretty much awesome 24/7. I was energetic, curious, loud, imaginative and playful. My world consisted of two super fun parents, who read to me every night, put on puppet shows for me, encouraged me and when needed, disciplined me in a fair and loving way. I also had this really fun little sister, who was four years younger than me, and almost completely accepting of everything I told her. I think we lived a pretty simple life the four of us. Sure, we moved more often than the average family, and Lord knows my parents have spent more money on new carpet than most, but in general, we were just like everyone else. I met all those developmental milestones psychiatrists are always concerned about. I was a little impulsive, which led to several emergency room visits, and I was far too bossy, but otherwise, I was a normal kid.
When I looked at my life years later, seated in my therapist's office, it was pretty hard to think of anything that could have triggered the incredible mental pain I was now in. In particular, there was no identifiable reason for my problems with self injury. Many people who struggle with self harm have themselves been harmed in some way. They tend to be people who experienced mental and/or physical abuse, sexual assault, or trauma. There are many who present with an eating disorder, or a personality disorder. But not me. I had a pretty limited scope of what I could blame my problems on. As you can imagine, this pretty much made it worse.
As a licensed social worker myself, with the same license now, that my therapist had then, I can vouch for the fact that when a patient has an issue like depression or self injury, most times there is a catalyst for those problems. My poor therapist was stuck trying to help a young woman who had no explaination for why things suddenly started to suck and why they stayed that way. Without a point of origin to work with, coping with depression was a much harder task. Therapy visits could not center around having been abused and focusing on working through that experience. No such trauma had occured, I had a glorious childhood! Many times, in that office, I felt kind of stupid for being sad. What was there to be sad about?
So even within the mental health community I did not fit. I have already written about how once I started to stuggle, I didn't feel like my faith fit anymore either. I think this may be why my depression was resistant to treatment and lasted as long as it did. I didn't know anyone like me, and I felt incredibly isolated. And when the depression became a fully-formed all consuming, day to day reality, I also lost the ability and desire to write. Back in high school I had started fervently and diligently writing at least two pages every day. Prayers, stories, poems, I have a dozen journals packed with the moments of my life. Depression took my favorite way to sort out my feelings about friends, family, God and life, and held it as a prisoner of war.
Journal Entry, November 1, 2001
I feel so tremendously guilty for being depressed. I feel like I have let people down. I hate this so much and I can't free myself from it. I've tried, I really have!
So I get thinking, well maybe I'm not really depressed. I mean I just can't be. It's someone else's life, not mine. I don't believe this is real, it can't be! I'm a Christian, this is not supposed to happen to people like me.
The thing that scares me the most is: am I letting God down? I mean, I'm so sad, how can that be of God? If I am so sad, so broken, so messed up, does that mean God is not with me anymore? What did I do to end up here? Why am I so far from Him?
It was desperate entries like this one, which eventually led to me not wanting to write at all. I kept asking all these questions that I had no answers to, and it just made my frustration with depression worse. I stopped consistently journaling shortly after that entry.
Writing was pretty much reserved for school after that, and while I still wrote occasionally, I never really felt the same passion for it. That is, up until about a week ago, when the passion for writing and desire to get back to it, overwhelmed me and sparked the idea for this blog.
I had a glorious childhood. For a reason that is still not clear to me, I suffered with some inexplicable, overwhelming pain, and when that pain disappeared, my desire to write came back. And here I am, on the other side of something I was pretty convinced was going to last forever. I am being restored, and this little spot on the internet is a part of that restoration.
I Need You - The Swift
L
Monday, January 23, 2012
Beauty From Pain
So yesterday I took a big risk, and documented something highly personal. When I woke up this morning, I kept wondering if I had made a mistake by telling my secret and started to second guess putting my true story out there. But those who are reading this blog have been incredibly supportive, and compassionate, which I am so thankful for! So the journey continues.
I think something that is worth conveying is that during the dark moments in my history, as much as I needed support, I had absolutely no ability to really accept it. Not only that, I am a really good liar. So if you asked me how I was, I would tell you I was feeling fine. Even when people who knew about my depression asked me how I was, I always downplayed it. When you are keeping a secret this big, you learn to lie straight to a person's face without a second thought. Particularly when good things were happening:
(Journal Entry)
December 2004
Got into graduate school - Dec 12
Went to Canada - Dec 16
Celebrated Christmas - Dec 24
Cut - Dec 27
But despite my ability to lie, and fake it for certain circumstances, even in the midst of darkness, there was one constant. It was that as many times as I felt alone, God stayed with me, even when I tried to shoo him away. I was making so many mistakes, it seemed ridiculous that God would want anything to do with me. Over and over in my old journal entries there is this pattern of my self-destructive thoughts and actions, and my desperate cry for help from God. One night, I wrote out this passage from Romans:
Romans 7:17-24 The Message
I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.
It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge.
I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn't that the real question?
I think what may have been the hardest part for me was that in the two years before I went to college, I was having an absolute blast being a powerhouse for God. I was going to church, and I was leading a school Bible study that met 5 days a week! I was sharing the gospel in class, and inviting people to come check out my youth group. I was singing in church, and worshipping at the altar, seeking more. And it was all real! That intensity, that passion, it was 100 percent legitimate. I felt the Holy Spirit inside and out. I wept over the lost, I prayed for hours alone in my room, I fervently ready the Word, and I wrote about the incredible things God was doing in my life. My heart was overflowing with love for the Lord.
When you have that kind of intense, real and personal relationship with God, it is better than any drug, and just as addictive. I started college, determined to continue the high. But college is completely different from high school, and while I stayed true to my values and beliefs, it started to feel like college had knocked the wind out of my sails. Most people find themselves in college, I sort of lost myself.
I have to say, that I have no idea why God took me down the path that he did. I do not know why he allowed me to be afflicted by depression, and why he allowed it to have a hold on me for so long. I do KNOW that he has a plan, even when I think he is totally making a mistake.
Jeremiah 29:11 The Message
I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.
There is a reason Christians cling to this verse for dear life. Because just about everything in life is unpredictable, and it is pretty hard to believe there is a plan sometimes. Not only that, we tend to figure that God has other things to think about besides whether or not we are sad, or hurt, or lost. The fact that our God would make a promise like this, brings incredible comfort, even when we don't fully trust that promise. I was sure I would never be free from depression. I never thought I would get to the other side of it, and to be completely honest, I am not quite sure what the catalyst for recovery actually was. I just know that without a doubt, He has made Beauty From Ashes.
Beauty From Pain
L
I think something that is worth conveying is that during the dark moments in my history, as much as I needed support, I had absolutely no ability to really accept it. Not only that, I am a really good liar. So if you asked me how I was, I would tell you I was feeling fine. Even when people who knew about my depression asked me how I was, I always downplayed it. When you are keeping a secret this big, you learn to lie straight to a person's face without a second thought. Particularly when good things were happening:
(Journal Entry)
December 2004
Got into graduate school - Dec 12
Went to Canada - Dec 16
Celebrated Christmas - Dec 24
Cut - Dec 27
But despite my ability to lie, and fake it for certain circumstances, even in the midst of darkness, there was one constant. It was that as many times as I felt alone, God stayed with me, even when I tried to shoo him away. I was making so many mistakes, it seemed ridiculous that God would want anything to do with me. Over and over in my old journal entries there is this pattern of my self-destructive thoughts and actions, and my desperate cry for help from God. One night, I wrote out this passage from Romans:
Romans 7:17-24 The Message
I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.
It happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge.
I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn't that the real question?
I think what may have been the hardest part for me was that in the two years before I went to college, I was having an absolute blast being a powerhouse for God. I was going to church, and I was leading a school Bible study that met 5 days a week! I was sharing the gospel in class, and inviting people to come check out my youth group. I was singing in church, and worshipping at the altar, seeking more. And it was all real! That intensity, that passion, it was 100 percent legitimate. I felt the Holy Spirit inside and out. I wept over the lost, I prayed for hours alone in my room, I fervently ready the Word, and I wrote about the incredible things God was doing in my life. My heart was overflowing with love for the Lord.
When you have that kind of intense, real and personal relationship with God, it is better than any drug, and just as addictive. I started college, determined to continue the high. But college is completely different from high school, and while I stayed true to my values and beliefs, it started to feel like college had knocked the wind out of my sails. Most people find themselves in college, I sort of lost myself.
I have to say, that I have no idea why God took me down the path that he did. I do not know why he allowed me to be afflicted by depression, and why he allowed it to have a hold on me for so long. I do KNOW that he has a plan, even when I think he is totally making a mistake.
Jeremiah 29:11 The Message
I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.
There is a reason Christians cling to this verse for dear life. Because just about everything in life is unpredictable, and it is pretty hard to believe there is a plan sometimes. Not only that, we tend to figure that God has other things to think about besides whether or not we are sad, or hurt, or lost. The fact that our God would make a promise like this, brings incredible comfort, even when we don't fully trust that promise. I was sure I would never be free from depression. I never thought I would get to the other side of it, and to be completely honest, I am not quite sure what the catalyst for recovery actually was. I just know that without a doubt, He has made Beauty From Ashes.
Beauty From Pain
L
Sunday, January 22, 2012
My Secret
So I have alluded to, and mentioned, my struggle with depression. I would like to elaborate on that in this entry, and try to start telling my story about living with depression.
I went to see a therapist for the first time when I was 20 years old, in the spring of my sophomore year at Towson. I still remember walking to that first appointment. My school had a free counselling center, and since my mood and life had been off, I thought a therapist might help me figure out what I should do with my life, and help me manage my low moods a little better. Plus, as mentioned, it was free.
That spring, through no fault of my therapist (whom I did not like), my mood, anxiety and depression increased. By the time I reached the weeks before summer break, my therapist told me he thought I should meet with a psychiatrist for medication management, and potentially get a new therapist, off campus who could work with me.
That summer, I went to my primary care practitioner in Frederick, and started my first medication; Celexa.
I didn't tell my parents about the addition of an SSRI to my life because I was pretty sure they would not be pleased, or have a bunch of questions I could not answer.. It was the first time in my life that I kept a real secret from them.
As I started my junior year of school, the depression and anxiety just got worse. I had moved into a one bedroom apartment with one of my best friends, but inside, something was still not right for me. I tried several medications that fall of 2000, but not much seemed to help.
Depression started to take it's suffocating hold on my life, and drag me down into the depths of despair. When I say I was depressed, and that this was a serious, painful, overwhelming force in my life, I am not exaggerating. I am not trying to make my story more interesting. I am telling the truth, and while I hesitate to tell the whole story, it does no one any good to keep it a secret. That year, probably in the late fall, I started down a path of personal destruction that would take hold for a number of years. In a moment of desperation, isolation, loneliness, and disregard for my personal preservation, I injured myself, intentionally, alone in my bathroom, while my roommate watched TV.
I was probably more suicidal than anything else, but my relationship with God prevented me from actually making any kind of plan to make an attempt at my own life. So I cut myself. I know, this is a little gruesome, and ridiculously personal, but what good has it done keeping it a secret? I was sad, I was sick, and for all its merits, the church was absolutely no help in this area. I was desperate to feel something, and having seen an episode on self injury on the show, ER, it seemed like the path of least resistance, which would validate how awful I was feeling on the inside.
I tell this part of my story not to get sympathy, but because if someone like me, who was raised in the church, and truly believed in the POWER of God, can experience this kind of desperation, anyone can. I knew the Lord, I knew, during those moments that he was broken over my actions, but I could not stop. More than that, I did not want to. And when I turned to my faith for help, I was told to pray. I am telling you right now, by the time you are cutting on yourself, prayer is not gonna be the cure-all. I needed a band of believers huddled around me, keeping me accountable. All I had was; "Pray about your depression and God will heal it." You know what? Sometimes people get diagnosed with cancer and God does not heal it.
Having been a Christian my whole life, all I knew about depression was that God, could heal it. That was not going to be enough for me. When I told other Christians about my sadness, they prayed for me, and told me to pray. You know what? Depression is sometimes bigger and uglier than any cancer. Sometimes it has a tighter grip than any tumor. If there is one thing I hope to convey in this blog, it is that the church needs to stop treating depression as a sin - and start treating it like the aggressive, violent and deadly illness it is.
I knew a young man in college. He loved the Lord. He was such a pillar of faith that he was chosen to be a symbol in our campus ministry for who Christ is. He attended church regularly, he did all the things a good Christian man is supposed to do. And then, one day, he threw himself in front of a train, and killed himself. When I heard that he had died, I was overwhelmed by the thought of how lonely and isolated he must have felt in those dark moments of his life. How desperate he must have been to have his faith help him and then feel like his prayers went unanswered. I was also overwhelmed by the fact that I knew exactly how he felt.
There is more to my story, and it will unfold in good time. I am pretty sure that is what this journey is all about.
L
Help For Self Injury
I went to see a therapist for the first time when I was 20 years old, in the spring of my sophomore year at Towson. I still remember walking to that first appointment. My school had a free counselling center, and since my mood and life had been off, I thought a therapist might help me figure out what I should do with my life, and help me manage my low moods a little better. Plus, as mentioned, it was free.
That spring, through no fault of my therapist (whom I did not like), my mood, anxiety and depression increased. By the time I reached the weeks before summer break, my therapist told me he thought I should meet with a psychiatrist for medication management, and potentially get a new therapist, off campus who could work with me.
That summer, I went to my primary care practitioner in Frederick, and started my first medication; Celexa.
I didn't tell my parents about the addition of an SSRI to my life because I was pretty sure they would not be pleased, or have a bunch of questions I could not answer.. It was the first time in my life that I kept a real secret from them.
As I started my junior year of school, the depression and anxiety just got worse. I had moved into a one bedroom apartment with one of my best friends, but inside, something was still not right for me. I tried several medications that fall of 2000, but not much seemed to help.
Depression started to take it's suffocating hold on my life, and drag me down into the depths of despair. When I say I was depressed, and that this was a serious, painful, overwhelming force in my life, I am not exaggerating. I am not trying to make my story more interesting. I am telling the truth, and while I hesitate to tell the whole story, it does no one any good to keep it a secret. That year, probably in the late fall, I started down a path of personal destruction that would take hold for a number of years. In a moment of desperation, isolation, loneliness, and disregard for my personal preservation, I injured myself, intentionally, alone in my bathroom, while my roommate watched TV.
I was probably more suicidal than anything else, but my relationship with God prevented me from actually making any kind of plan to make an attempt at my own life. So I cut myself. I know, this is a little gruesome, and ridiculously personal, but what good has it done keeping it a secret? I was sad, I was sick, and for all its merits, the church was absolutely no help in this area. I was desperate to feel something, and having seen an episode on self injury on the show, ER, it seemed like the path of least resistance, which would validate how awful I was feeling on the inside.
I tell this part of my story not to get sympathy, but because if someone like me, who was raised in the church, and truly believed in the POWER of God, can experience this kind of desperation, anyone can. I knew the Lord, I knew, during those moments that he was broken over my actions, but I could not stop. More than that, I did not want to. And when I turned to my faith for help, I was told to pray. I am telling you right now, by the time you are cutting on yourself, prayer is not gonna be the cure-all. I needed a band of believers huddled around me, keeping me accountable. All I had was; "Pray about your depression and God will heal it." You know what? Sometimes people get diagnosed with cancer and God does not heal it.
Having been a Christian my whole life, all I knew about depression was that God, could heal it. That was not going to be enough for me. When I told other Christians about my sadness, they prayed for me, and told me to pray. You know what? Depression is sometimes bigger and uglier than any cancer. Sometimes it has a tighter grip than any tumor. If there is one thing I hope to convey in this blog, it is that the church needs to stop treating depression as a sin - and start treating it like the aggressive, violent and deadly illness it is.
I knew a young man in college. He loved the Lord. He was such a pillar of faith that he was chosen to be a symbol in our campus ministry for who Christ is. He attended church regularly, he did all the things a good Christian man is supposed to do. And then, one day, he threw himself in front of a train, and killed himself. When I heard that he had died, I was overwhelmed by the thought of how lonely and isolated he must have felt in those dark moments of his life. How desperate he must have been to have his faith help him and then feel like his prayers went unanswered. I was also overwhelmed by the fact that I knew exactly how he felt.
There is more to my story, and it will unfold in good time. I am pretty sure that is what this journey is all about.
L
Help For Self Injury
Friday, January 20, 2012
Testimony
God gives us a story.
He gives us experiences, moments, trials, triumphs, failures and successes so that we have a story to tell. We need to have a story, particularly as believers because people who like Jesus are interesting to people who don't know Jesus. No matter who you are or what you are doing in your life, I guarantee there is someone you know, who thinks that the fact that you believe in God, and salvation is kinda fascinating. Don't get me wrong, there are totally people in your life who could care less about your personal convictions and beliefs, but as Christians there are absolutely people who you know, who are watching what you do very carefully.Trust me on this. They can even smell it!
Through us, he brings knowledge of Christ. Everywhere we go, people breathe in the exquisite fragrance. Because of Christ, we give off a sweet scent rising to God, which is recognized by those on the way of salvation—an aroma redolent with life. 2 Corinthians 2:14-16 The Message
Since we have a Jesus musk, which draws people to us, God knows better than to leave us without something to say - hence, our story.
Like everyone, my story is complicated, long and not always perfect. My favorite part of my story, actually involves my whole family. When my dad received a job offer to work in Maryland, the timing was pretty perfect. He had been out of work, and my mom had recently decided to quit her job. So, I had two parents who were unemployed. It was a scary time, but what was awesome is that God started to draw my family closer to him. I mean we didn't have much else! So, we started to pray more, serve more, seek more. And then came the job in Maryland. My dad scoped out Frederick ahead of us, and did some reconnaissance on which schools were the best, and what church would meet our family's needs. He found us a new house in a great neighborhood, minutes away from a great church and a good school, and we made plans to move.
Upon getting to Frederick, we were staying in a hotel for a couple days while my parents finished the paperwork on the new home. And then the worst happened. There were problems with the real estate deal, and it was not going to work out for us to buy that home. It was a pretty intense moment for us, since we were not citizens, we didn't know anyone, and now we had no place to live. We spent 3 weeks in a hotel, trying to decide what to do. Pick a different house, or find a rental? We went out one evening and drove around Frederick looking for another place to live. The thing was, we didn't want to live anywhere else! We wanted our house, and we felt like that was the RIGHT house. So we drove to the home that my dad had first picked. It was brand new, and no one was living there, so, my dad pulled in the driveway, and we all got out. And then something extraordinary happened. We prayed together, in the driveway of that house, and asked God to do his will for our family. All four of us, holding hands in a little circle, in the shadow of that big, empty house, called out for an answer.
The next day, the realtor called, and told my parents that the deal was going to work out after all, and if we still wanted it, the house was ours.
That moment in my family's history was completely sublime. Following moving into that home (where they still live) God orchestrated a healing in our family that was long overdue. That moment brought restoration.
The reason our story is important is because there are people who think the Bible is crap. There are people - lots of 'em - who could care less about what some old guys wrote in a book a thousand years ago. They are often not particularly interested in churches, or pastors messages. You know what they are interested in? Our personal stories. The moments in our lives that don't have an Earthly explanation. They would much rather hear about what we have been through, over what Paul went through.
The story is not always a happy one.
My personal testimony as an adult, has a lot to do with my experience with depression, and trying to stay connected to my faith, when all I wanted to do was check out. After years of living with something as sucktastic as depression, I started to think I would never be free from it. I was wrong! God has brought restoration to my mind, but it took a REALLY long time!
I guess my point is, that you have a story, even if you are not quite sure how to tell it yet. You might even be in the middle of your story. Me? I feel like there will be more to tell. I think depression was really only the first part of my testimony, you have no idea how excited I am for this next part!
L
He gives us experiences, moments, trials, triumphs, failures and successes so that we have a story to tell. We need to have a story, particularly as believers because people who like Jesus are interesting to people who don't know Jesus. No matter who you are or what you are doing in your life, I guarantee there is someone you know, who thinks that the fact that you believe in God, and salvation is kinda fascinating. Don't get me wrong, there are totally people in your life who could care less about your personal convictions and beliefs, but as Christians there are absolutely people who you know, who are watching what you do very carefully.Trust me on this. They can even smell it!
Through us, he brings knowledge of Christ. Everywhere we go, people breathe in the exquisite fragrance. Because of Christ, we give off a sweet scent rising to God, which is recognized by those on the way of salvation—an aroma redolent with life. 2 Corinthians 2:14-16 The Message
Since we have a Jesus musk, which draws people to us, God knows better than to leave us without something to say - hence, our story.
Like everyone, my story is complicated, long and not always perfect. My favorite part of my story, actually involves my whole family. When my dad received a job offer to work in Maryland, the timing was pretty perfect. He had been out of work, and my mom had recently decided to quit her job. So, I had two parents who were unemployed. It was a scary time, but what was awesome is that God started to draw my family closer to him. I mean we didn't have much else! So, we started to pray more, serve more, seek more. And then came the job in Maryland. My dad scoped out Frederick ahead of us, and did some reconnaissance on which schools were the best, and what church would meet our family's needs. He found us a new house in a great neighborhood, minutes away from a great church and a good school, and we made plans to move.
Upon getting to Frederick, we were staying in a hotel for a couple days while my parents finished the paperwork on the new home. And then the worst happened. There were problems with the real estate deal, and it was not going to work out for us to buy that home. It was a pretty intense moment for us, since we were not citizens, we didn't know anyone, and now we had no place to live. We spent 3 weeks in a hotel, trying to decide what to do. Pick a different house, or find a rental? We went out one evening and drove around Frederick looking for another place to live. The thing was, we didn't want to live anywhere else! We wanted our house, and we felt like that was the RIGHT house. So we drove to the home that my dad had first picked. It was brand new, and no one was living there, so, my dad pulled in the driveway, and we all got out. And then something extraordinary happened. We prayed together, in the driveway of that house, and asked God to do his will for our family. All four of us, holding hands in a little circle, in the shadow of that big, empty house, called out for an answer.
The next day, the realtor called, and told my parents that the deal was going to work out after all, and if we still wanted it, the house was ours.
That moment in my family's history was completely sublime. Following moving into that home (where they still live) God orchestrated a healing in our family that was long overdue. That moment brought restoration.
The reason our story is important is because there are people who think the Bible is crap. There are people - lots of 'em - who could care less about what some old guys wrote in a book a thousand years ago. They are often not particularly interested in churches, or pastors messages. You know what they are interested in? Our personal stories. The moments in our lives that don't have an Earthly explanation. They would much rather hear about what we have been through, over what Paul went through.
The story is not always a happy one.
My personal testimony as an adult, has a lot to do with my experience with depression, and trying to stay connected to my faith, when all I wanted to do was check out. After years of living with something as sucktastic as depression, I started to think I would never be free from it. I was wrong! God has brought restoration to my mind, but it took a REALLY long time!
I guess my point is, that you have a story, even if you are not quite sure how to tell it yet. You might even be in the middle of your story. Me? I feel like there will be more to tell. I think depression was really only the first part of my testimony, you have no idea how excited I am for this next part!
L
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
My Christianity 101
For those of you who may read this and are not familiar with this whole Christianity thing, I will provide a brief review;
There are some basic principles which all Christians get in their official member guide when they decide Christianity seems pretty good and they want to be a part of it. One thing is that you have to ask Christ into your heart and accept Him as your Savior, (Romans 10:9) and then try really hard not to disappoint him, even though you are totally going to. I asked Christ to be my savior when I was at the tender age of 5, during Sunday school. The teacher described heaven, and then she described hell, and highlighted the fact that if you don't become a Christian it is brimstone for you. So, since I was 5, and hell did not seem like a good life outcome, I went ahead, raised my hand and prayed "The Sinner's Prayer." This moment in my history has led to an incredible journey, in which I have received ridiculous blessings, and some intense disappointments. (But more on that later).
So the thing about "getting saved" when you are 5, is that you have a pretty limited idea of what you are signing on for, and so, when you get a little older, and you have a better grasp on how super it is to have a relationship with God, a recommitment to the faith is generally a good idea. My recommitment came when I was 15 years old, in the midst of some of the toughest moments my family has ever experienced. God was carrying us through that incredibly tough time, and the whole notion of FAITH became a daily reality, and I knew I wanted to make a statement that for better or worse, this Christianity thing had become part of my identity. I was water-baptized that year, which opened the door for God to do some of his best work. (Again, more on that later).
Ok, so that's the "becoming" a Christian part. But of course there is so much more. There's the going to church thing, where you will be around other people who are as completely flawed as you are, but like group therapy, if you talk about it together, you grow, and maybe improve. So I have done the church thing most of my life. There were times when I was literally there whenever the doors were unlocked, and there have been times where church was just about punching my Sunday morning time card. In struggling with some massive depression, there were a bunch of years where I did not go to church at all. But even when I felt like I could not be around other Christians, and was really mad at God, the FAITH part of me stayed constant. I have never stopped believing, even though there were times when I thought it might be better to walk away. So yeah, church has not always been easy for me, but I have no doubt that God wants me to be a part of a fellowship of believers, no matter how irritated I am with not getting what I want.
Beyond church, there is lots of other stuff such as Bible study, worship, evangelism, prayer, and serving. Christianity kind of comes with a big "To Do List." But the thing that is remarkable, is that even when I am failing at all the items on that "To Do List" in a completely epic way, I don't ever feel completely alone.
"You're not alone. For I am here. Let me wipe away your every fear. My love, I've never left your side. I have seen you through the darkest night. And I'm the one who's loved you all your life." ~ Meredith Andrews, You're Not Alone
So, I became a Christian, then when I was a little older, I became a Christian again in front of a lot of people. I went to church, I read the Bible, I prayed, I sang, I served, I shared my faith with others. I was going to say that then it all stopped when I was depressed, but I realize now, that it never stopped. My journal entries from that time in my life reflect a young woman who was struggling with some ugly problems, and instead of ignoring God, kept the lines of communication open by yelling at him instead. I kept doing Christian things, even when my heart was totally not in it because Christianity is not a religion, it's a relationship, and I decided many years ago that I am in this for the long haul.
L
There are some basic principles which all Christians get in their official member guide when they decide Christianity seems pretty good and they want to be a part of it. One thing is that you have to ask Christ into your heart and accept Him as your Savior, (Romans 10:9) and then try really hard not to disappoint him, even though you are totally going to. I asked Christ to be my savior when I was at the tender age of 5, during Sunday school. The teacher described heaven, and then she described hell, and highlighted the fact that if you don't become a Christian it is brimstone for you. So, since I was 5, and hell did not seem like a good life outcome, I went ahead, raised my hand and prayed "The Sinner's Prayer." This moment in my history has led to an incredible journey, in which I have received ridiculous blessings, and some intense disappointments. (But more on that later).
So the thing about "getting saved" when you are 5, is that you have a pretty limited idea of what you are signing on for, and so, when you get a little older, and you have a better grasp on how super it is to have a relationship with God, a recommitment to the faith is generally a good idea. My recommitment came when I was 15 years old, in the midst of some of the toughest moments my family has ever experienced. God was carrying us through that incredibly tough time, and the whole notion of FAITH became a daily reality, and I knew I wanted to make a statement that for better or worse, this Christianity thing had become part of my identity. I was water-baptized that year, which opened the door for God to do some of his best work. (Again, more on that later).
Ok, so that's the "becoming" a Christian part. But of course there is so much more. There's the going to church thing, where you will be around other people who are as completely flawed as you are, but like group therapy, if you talk about it together, you grow, and maybe improve. So I have done the church thing most of my life. There were times when I was literally there whenever the doors were unlocked, and there have been times where church was just about punching my Sunday morning time card. In struggling with some massive depression, there were a bunch of years where I did not go to church at all. But even when I felt like I could not be around other Christians, and was really mad at God, the FAITH part of me stayed constant. I have never stopped believing, even though there were times when I thought it might be better to walk away. So yeah, church has not always been easy for me, but I have no doubt that God wants me to be a part of a fellowship of believers, no matter how irritated I am with not getting what I want.
Beyond church, there is lots of other stuff such as Bible study, worship, evangelism, prayer, and serving. Christianity kind of comes with a big "To Do List." But the thing that is remarkable, is that even when I am failing at all the items on that "To Do List" in a completely epic way, I don't ever feel completely alone.
"You're not alone. For I am here. Let me wipe away your every fear. My love, I've never left your side. I have seen you through the darkest night. And I'm the one who's loved you all your life." ~ Meredith Andrews, You're Not Alone
So, I became a Christian, then when I was a little older, I became a Christian again in front of a lot of people. I went to church, I read the Bible, I prayed, I sang, I served, I shared my faith with others. I was going to say that then it all stopped when I was depressed, but I realize now, that it never stopped. My journal entries from that time in my life reflect a young woman who was struggling with some ugly problems, and instead of ignoring God, kept the lines of communication open by yelling at him instead. I kept doing Christian things, even when my heart was totally not in it because Christianity is not a religion, it's a relationship, and I decided many years ago that I am in this for the long haul.
L
Monday, January 16, 2012
Revisiting the Past
Father,
You see where I am right now, literally and figuratively. Your hand is so strong in my life, this moment is beautiful. But I am scared about what lies ahead. I will be obedient to your direction, but I need you to first give it! I have spent too much time distracted by other things so I am not even worthy. But have mercy on me and restore my fellowship with you. Help me to hear your voice over the roar of the world. Place your blessing upon me and give the presence of mind to run with it. Let my prayers be marked by humbleness and driven by praise. Restore me Lord. Give me the strength to continue to move forward. Order my steps and my thoughts. May my obedience be rewarded by the revelation of your plan for my life, minute by minute. I'll need patience too, Lord. Help me every day to accept that your timing is not my timing and that my agenda is a moot point in light of your plans. I struggle Lord. I may struggle more as time goes on. Make me strong in the face of adversity. Renew me daily. Prepare me now for what lies ahead. I don't want to waiver anymore. Make me steadfast as you are steadfast. Open yourself to me, so I can see you more in everyday things. Expand my borders - challenge me so I will grow. Thank you for your sacrifice. Bring me back to you. Let your love wash over me. Begin to work now. ~ Amen
Journal Entry by me, November 3, 2003.
Following this journal entry, I quoted a lyric from my friend's band;
"Sometimes it really bothers me, how arrogant we can be. Talking about how we found God, as if He's been hiding." ~ Even Issac
I am starting a new blog. I am not sure what will come of it - which is of course what everyone says when they start writing a blog. I was bustling around my home tonight, cleaning things and desperately trying to downsize my stuff, because I just have too much! I have a drawer with old journals in it, and while my general policy is not to re-read journal entries since it tends to be painfully embarrassing. The one I opened tonight turns out to be perhaps the last journal about my faith that I ever wrote.
I was desperately trying to figure out who I was after graduating from Towson. I was significantly depressed, a depression that would last for the next seven years. My friendships were changing. I was trying to decide if I should go to grad school, and I felt ready to fall in love. It was literally a crossroads.
I think I am there again. There is a stirring within my heart, and I don't want to miss its meaning by not taking the time to explore it. God is not hiding, he has been here all along, and I have been missing it. So now, almost 10 years later, I am going to write again. I am going to put it all out there. I am going to review who I was, and what I have learned. I am going to open my heart again, and reach out to my Father for guidance.
So this is the beginning.
L
You see where I am right now, literally and figuratively. Your hand is so strong in my life, this moment is beautiful. But I am scared about what lies ahead. I will be obedient to your direction, but I need you to first give it! I have spent too much time distracted by other things so I am not even worthy. But have mercy on me and restore my fellowship with you. Help me to hear your voice over the roar of the world. Place your blessing upon me and give the presence of mind to run with it. Let my prayers be marked by humbleness and driven by praise. Restore me Lord. Give me the strength to continue to move forward. Order my steps and my thoughts. May my obedience be rewarded by the revelation of your plan for my life, minute by minute. I'll need patience too, Lord. Help me every day to accept that your timing is not my timing and that my agenda is a moot point in light of your plans. I struggle Lord. I may struggle more as time goes on. Make me strong in the face of adversity. Renew me daily. Prepare me now for what lies ahead. I don't want to waiver anymore. Make me steadfast as you are steadfast. Open yourself to me, so I can see you more in everyday things. Expand my borders - challenge me so I will grow. Thank you for your sacrifice. Bring me back to you. Let your love wash over me. Begin to work now. ~ Amen
Journal Entry by me, November 3, 2003.
Following this journal entry, I quoted a lyric from my friend's band;
"Sometimes it really bothers me, how arrogant we can be. Talking about how we found God, as if He's been hiding." ~ Even Issac
I am starting a new blog. I am not sure what will come of it - which is of course what everyone says when they start writing a blog. I was bustling around my home tonight, cleaning things and desperately trying to downsize my stuff, because I just have too much! I have a drawer with old journals in it, and while my general policy is not to re-read journal entries since it tends to be painfully embarrassing. The one I opened tonight turns out to be perhaps the last journal about my faith that I ever wrote.
I was desperately trying to figure out who I was after graduating from Towson. I was significantly depressed, a depression that would last for the next seven years. My friendships were changing. I was trying to decide if I should go to grad school, and I felt ready to fall in love. It was literally a crossroads.
I think I am there again. There is a stirring within my heart, and I don't want to miss its meaning by not taking the time to explore it. God is not hiding, he has been here all along, and I have been missing it. So now, almost 10 years later, I am going to write again. I am going to put it all out there. I am going to review who I was, and what I have learned. I am going to open my heart again, and reach out to my Father for guidance.
So this is the beginning.
L
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