#tbt...

First off I want to say that this post is not to elicit more birthday wishes or presents. I will of course appreciate them, but that's not what stopped me from washing the dishes to sit down and write this.

Let me see if I can get you to follow my crazy train of thinking. This morning I saw one of the founders of REFIT® had posted a funny "Throwback Thursday" photo.  I must of been thinking of my birthday at the time so it inspired me to go back and dig through photos of me celebrating my birthday over the years.  There weren't many pictures from the last few years and the ones there were hard to look at.

So I was thinking of my birthday, #tbt and REFIT® when it all came together. Physically I am not this person anymore. When I began attending REFIT® classes I had lost most of my weight and the scale hasn't tipped much in the 10 months I've been dancing.  I have, however, lost inches and I've gained and toned muscle.  But I've also gained so much more!

See I'm not mentally or emotionally the person I was in those pictures anymore either. Because of REFIT® I've gained confidence in my body, in my self-worth and in who I am as God's child. Confidence I've never had before.

I used to suffer from terrible panic attacks before going to social gatherings (especially those for women), now I'm a REFIT® instructor! I'm now the one who stands in the front and leads a room full of women.  Me, the one with the panic attacks.  Me, the uncoordinated one who used to avoid exercise at all costs. I've learned to see the beauty in participation and the pain in perfection.

Because of REFIT® I've also gained friendships and formed bonds that no time or distance will change.  It's an amazing feeling to be surrounded by a group of women who only want to build you and not tear you down.

So with these #tbt photos I'm choosing not to focus on the hurt, the sadness and the flaws that surround them.  Instead I'm going to look at them and see how far God has brought me on this crazy and amazing journey.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come.

The old has gone, the new is here!

2 Corinthians 5:17

I've lost my joy...

I haven't written in a while. I've missed it. I've had loads of ideas but I haven't made the time to write them down. And then the other day it hit me. I think it's because I've lost some joy. Joy in writing, joy in being a stay at home mom, joy in life.

My doctor always told me that I probably suffered from Seasonal Affective Disorder. My doctor is a very smart lady; but I never really considered it because I always had so much other junk going on that I could contribute my depression, sadness or loss of joy to.  Like the regular depression that comes when life is stressful, or pregnancy, or baby blues.

But over the last couple of years I feel like I've turned a corner and gotten a control over my depression and anxiety. It was like God had fully opened my eyes and a huge weight was taken off of my shoulders. I went into this winter season feeling strong and confident.

Then the days got shorter and the temperature got lower.  The sun stopped shinning.  It started taking 3 times as long to leave the house and somewhere along the line leaving just became not worth it all. The girls started crawling the walls and fighting because we couldn't go for a walk and they couldn't ride their bikes; they were now relegated to playing within 250 square feet, together, all the time.

Then Christmas came. We decided to intentionally cut back this year. Cut back on presents, parties and activities.  We wanted to focus on the birth of our Savior instead on getting wrapped up in all "the stuff". In the end we spent the week between Christmas and New Year's sick, each one of us taking our turn. We missed every family get together but we got a quiet and subdued Christmas that left us all a little more than stir crazy.

And somewhere along the way I lost my joy.

When you loose your joy it's really easy to start believing all those old lies.  I don't know what your old lies are, but for me it boils down to my identity. I'm a stay at home mom and (most of the time) I feel incredibly blessed be able to stay home with my girls.  But then the doubts creep in. Their not getting along, I must be doing something wrong. Or my 3 1/2 year old isn't potty trained yet, I'm such a disgrace. Or I let them have too much screen time, I'm such a loser.  And then I take it one step further and decide that my identity doesn't go beyond the four walls of my house. Surely I don't matter to anyone else. What would they want me for anyway when I'm doing a fine job messing up my kids???

We haven't been to church since before Christmas. Last Sunday I was questioning whether our kids immunity systems were up to an outing but in the end it was the -32 degree windchill that finally made me say forget it. My sweet husband told me I should go to church, he'd stay home with the kids. As I was putting on my makeup and getting ready to go, the recording of my old lies started playing in my head. So instead of going to church I had a panic attack on my bathroom floor.

My husband suggested we find a sermon to watch instead. We decided on a sermon by Andy Stanley called "In the Meantime".  If you are at all relating to my post so far I highly encourage you to watch the video. Andy Stanley starts off by asking "What do you do when there is nothing you can do? When it is what it is?"  The question caught my attention immediately.

Because there isn't really much I can do about my geographical location.  Even if we could up and move or even "winter" somewhere warm it wouldn't be an immediate solution. I would still be isolated from my friends and my family.  And I really do love living where we do the half of the year that it's not winter.

So what do you do when there is nothing you can do? Nothing that will make your situation better? Or what if doing something would make your situation worse? You can't change another person's feelings any more than you can change the weather. So now what?

We can run, give up, get angry. We can start to believe the old lies. The lies that make us believe we'll never be happy again or that nothing good will come from this. The lies that have us believing that there is no point in continuing and wondering if God even cares. This is dangerous territory, my friends.

This is where we need to pull the e-brake and reflect on what we know to be true. God is never absent. Sure we can really easily tune God out, but that doesn't mean He went anywhere.

Be strong and courageous.

Do not be afraid,

for the Lord goes with you.

He will not leave your or forsake you.

Deuteronomy 31:6

At the end of the sermon, Andy Stanley has everyone repeat out loud these statements:

• I can be happy again.
• Something good can come from this.
• There's a purpose for this plan.

I was sobbing again by this point and I heard God whisper in my heart, "I'm here. I'm doing something you don't understand right now; preparing you for something you can't see. There is a purpose to this pain and this season. You are my child whom I love. You matter to me."

You matter. You are a child of the King. You have a purpose and there is a purpose for this pain. You will be happy again. Be strong and courageous, friend. The Lord is for you.

Because I, your God

have a firm grip on you and I'm not letting go.

I'm telling you 'Don't panic.

I'm right here to help you.'

Isaiah 41:13 {The Message}

My friend Shelly, who is so good at speaking truth, also wrote about her perspective on winter. You can read it on her blog, Just Trying to find My Way.

Forget about it...

I was recently talking with a someone and painful things from the past came up.  They told me "You need to FORGET about it." My immediate thought was "that's impossible."  We don't live in a world with memory erasing devices or serums and as painful as some memories are I don't want to forget them, and here's why: I've seen God use them for His good.

It was almost a year ago I was asked to share my story publicly at church in front of a lot of people. On the outside I was freaking out about this, making myself vulnerable in a room full of mostly strangers, sharing dark things like being raped...divorced...suicidal.  But the thing is God gave me such incredible peace in my mind that I stood up and did it. And then I was asked to share it again and again and again.

Now it would be really easy to park my brain in a spot that dwells on things that have haunted and damaged me. But to park there is to stay in a spot that makes me feel angry, hurt and emotionally empty. Or I can choose to park in a spot of forgiveness and grace.  If I park here than those painful things no longer have power over me; they no longer define me.  Instead I can learn and grow from them.  I can use them as a marker of sorts to see how much God has changed me or to see how far He has carried me.

The amazing thing is in the last year I've seen firsthand what it says in Romans 8:28 "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". I've heard from women all over the world who have stories similar to mine who needed to hear they weren't alone.  And if I had to go through those awful things to so that someone else can hear about grace then it was worth it.

God's plan for us is so much bigger than the little snippets we see. In Isaiah 55:8 God says that His thoughts are not our thoughts and His ways not our ways, but through faith we can trust that He has a plan to use it for good. Even when it hurts.

So let's not forget what has happened in the past but let's trust that sometimes when things are falling apart they may actually be falling into place.

Sticks and stones...

During worship at church this week the pastor asked us to privately confess to God the areas with which we were struggling.  To give up the things that were pinning us down.   As I sat there thinking I couldn't come up with anything.  Now, I'm by no means perfect but what I mean is I didn't have anything huge hanging over me; nothing gnawing at the pit of my stomach. So instead I just thanked Jesus for all the things that are good in my life right now.  But there was this little voice in the back of my head, you know the one that tells you "Yeah, just wait, it's coming."  It sounds a lot like Satan.

Well, it came. It came in someone else's unkind opinion of me and it crushed me. Soon I found I was letting this person's opinion seep into every part of who I thought I was and before I knew it my opinion of myself was undoubtedly worse than their opinion of me.  So I had a decision to make, I could continue to let my thoughts ride this crazy train and fall into a pit of depression and anxiety or I could pull the brake.

I wanted to pull the brake and so I asked for prayer from my husband a few close friends.  Then I dug into the truth.  

"Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you. I've called your name, you're mine.

I'd sell off the whole world to get you back,

trade the creation just for you."

{excerpts taken from Isaiah 43:1-4 MSG}

"I am leaving you well and whole. That's my parting gift to you. Peace. 

I don't leave you the way you are used to be being left - feeling abandoned, bereft. 

So don't be upset. Don't be distraught." 

John 14:27 MSG

"If you find the godless world hating you, remember it got it's start hating me. 

If you lived on the world's terms, the world would love you as one of it's own.

But since I have picked you to live on God's terms 

and no longer on the world's terms,the world is going to hate you."

John 15:18-19 MSG

I find myself internally chanting "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." But that's simply not true. Words do hurt. But they also bring me to a decision to make: will I believe other's opinions of me or will I believe God's opinion of me?

Words may hurt me, but they won't define me. Only God's opinion can do that.

Baby blues and loss...

My husband and I were sitting in church one day, a few months after we were married when a couple with a new baby sat in front of us.  I hadn't thought a lot about having kids before then but that day that baby kept eyeing me and smiling at me and my heart ached.  We went out for lunch after church and I brought up the idea of having a baby.  My husband was thrilled with the idea. And he was still thrilled another month later when I was jumping on the bed with a positive pregnancy test.

My pregnancy was awful.  I was sicker than sick the first five months. I had to quit my job. My husband was working construction and at the time was laid off.  I went in to preterm labor and spent the last few weeks on bed rest. He'd get me situated on the couch in the morning and then push the card table up to me.  We spent endless hours playing board games and filling notebooks with the timing of my contractions.  I was over the moon in love with Eva before I met her and was amazed at how much more I loved her once I held her in my arms.  She was simply amazing.

We came home the picture of the perfect family but things were so hard.  I was desperate to nurse her but wasn't physically able.  She lost weight and we had to wake her up every two hours to feed her.  We thought she was colicky but I wonder now if the poor girls wasn't just hungry.  I physically ached for her anytime she was out of the room that I turned down all offers for any kind of help.  I was stubborn and strong willed and thought motherhood was something I had to figure out on my own.

I became anxious all the time. I started having panic attacks more frequently. I couldn't sleep.  I ate everything in sight.  I cried almost every day.  And I completely shut everyone else out.  I wasn't interested in anything. I had no sense of self and couldn't even remember who I used to be.

I had had physical complications after delivering Eva and at one of my check ups the doctor had me answer some questions related to depression and anxiety.  It became quite clear that I was a mess both physically and emotionally.  I was prescribed antidepressants and physical therapy and I think it evened me out a bit.

After having Eva I wanted to have another baby right away even though my pregnancy had been horrendous and I was suffering physically and emotionally. Road construction wasn't booming and we were in a bad spot financially but I had always thought it would be great to have two kids so close in age.  The more time that passed the more disappointed I grew.

When Eva was around two I had come to the conclusion that maybe God intended us to be a family of three.  I started parting with the baby things I had been saving and I had peace.  When Eva was almost three we found out we were expecting.

This pregnancy was different. My morning sickness faded after a few weeks and I started to feel great.  My doctor wanted to see me sooner than normal because of my history.  At my first appointment he ordered an ultrasound to make sure everything was going well.  I was so excited to have an early ultrasound that I didn't think that anything would not be perfect.

I remember the ultrasound technician asking a lot of questions and wanting to know if I was sure about my dates.  She was very kind and thorough.  She was having trouble finding the heartbeat.  But she assured me over and over that it could be because I was so early and maybe my dates were wrong.  I had little hope that she was right.  She made a phone call to my doctor and he said he wanted to see me right away.

He confirmed my worst nightmare.  He said that I had been feeling so good because my body had stopped producing the hormones needed during pregnancy.  He said the baby was not living and that we were going to have a miscarriage.  A few days later, maybe a week, we lost the baby and my heart shattered.

We named the baby Kason Bliss meaning "pure" and  "joy".  We held a small service at our house and planted a tree that would flower in the spring outside our living room window. I feel into deep grief.  The pain was excruciating and then I was numb.  And then as my would be "due date" approached I was consumed in heartache all over again.

Two weeks after the date had passed I sat in the doctors office as she explained that we were going to try a new asthma medication and oh by the way, I was pregnant.  I was scared and nervous and excited.  But I was miserably sick for which I was thankful.

I was just as in awe of Lorelei when she was born.  Though things were not any easier when I brought her home.  Lorelei cried a lot and slept very little.  Eva was jealous and regressed and had frequent outbursts.  I quickly found myself battling the same postpartum depression demons.

A really great friend of mine told me "Look, you can be mad at me and yell and cry but I'm going to tell you you are not okay. But you will be.  You need the drugs." So back to the doctor I went for the antidepressants I really didn't like.

When Lorelei was six months old I felt like I was figuring out how to survive the day.  We were hitting our groove and then just like that I was crying over another positive pregnancy test. See, my sweet Amelia was not in my plan, not then anyway. (And she's got a story that's all her own.)

Now that I'm far enough out of that blurry, dark time I can see that God's plan and my plan are not always going to line up.  I can also see how God's plan trumps my plan every time. I can even see how God's got a sense of humor.  I got my two babies close in age, fourteen months and 1 day to be exact.

What I don't see is how God is going to use my struggles with depression and anxiety or my experiences with grief and loss.  But I have faith that my suffering was not in vain whether I see how He uses it or not.

If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. 

He does our praying in and for us,making prayer out of wordless sighs, our aching groans. 

He knows us far better than we know ourselves and keeps us present before God. 

That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God 

is worked into something good. Romans 8:28

If you are someone who is suffering from depression or you know someone who is, please reach out and talk to someone.  Know that you are not alone and that there is help out there.  Here is a great site with resources to help you: HELPGUIDE.ORG. You can also call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK or the National Hopeline Network at 1-800-SUICIDE 24 hours a day.  

The Stealing of Innocence (Part 2)...Beauty for Ashes

This is the part where the healing begins.  Again I'm tag-teaming with my friend Shelly and you can find her story here.

Growing up I went to Sunday school all the time and church sometimes.  I knew all the Bible stories and had memorized verses and was confirmed.  I had all this knowledge but I had no idea what it meant to have Jesus in my heart.

As I went through counseling I did come to a place where I no longer blamed myself for the date rape. That was where I learned that what happened was called rape. I accepted that it was not something I had asked for or deserved.  However, the counseling did little for my shattered self-esteem.

I spent many years feeling worthless and unlovable.  No good to anyone. At one point I had lost my job and my cousin and his wife were in need of a nanny while they finished school and worked.  I was probably in no way qualified for the job but they gave it to me anyway.  They were new Christians and on fire for the Lord.  They invited me to church with them, it may have even been on the pretext of helping with their kids but I went and I loved it.

One particularly bad day I was driving in my car feeling hopeless, lonely, exhausted...I was crying and I pulled over and literally cried out for Jesus to come in to my heart. To fix me. At the time I was naive enough to think there would be some miraculous healing, but there wasn't.  I continued to go to church and was so excited because the Bible seemed brand new to me; personal and not just a bunch of stories I had learned in Sunday school.

I landed my dream job working in the marketing department at a small record label.  Life was turning around.  I was starting to feel, dare I say, happy again.  A friend of mine from college called and asked me to come and watch him graduate from Navy boot camp.  I went and that weekend he proposed to me.

I said yes.  My broken self told me this was my chance. I was sure no one would ever love me or ask me to marry them again. I put all my doubts and reservations about the fact that we had never dated before, we had only ever been friends in the back of my head.  My family tried to ask these questions but I just lashed out at them; didn't they want me to be happy?

Two months later I was married and moving half way across the country.  I found myself living as a roommate to my husband. We fought and we manipulated each other. It was awful. Less than a year later I left him and moved back home.

I had hit an all new low. Feeling worthless again. Unlovable. Unwanted. I cried out to God to "Fix me!!" I started going back to the church I left.  I realized in the time I had been gone I hadn't even cracked my Bible let alone go to church.

I met a woman at church who took my under her wing.  In her kitchen one day she told me about her first marriage and her story was eerily the same as mine. However she was now happily married (for years) and had four children. She said she never understood why she had to go through that but could see how God was using it now to mentor me.

She told me about God's unconditional love for me. About how He made me perfect and in His image.  And showed me what it looked like to have God leading your life.  This is when I finally surrendered my whole heart to the Lord. I knew I wanted Him in control because I just couldn't do it on my own.

This is is when the real healing began.  I could feel God molding my heart.  He softened it by shedding some of bitterness and hate I was still clinging to and filling in the spaces with moments of joy and love.  He was beginning a new and incredible thing in me.

The healing wasn't instantaneous and in ways is still happening. But when I turned over my undesirable past to God it was like He let it go and the breeze carried it away.  It no longer pinned me down or defined who I was.  I was no longer a rape victim or a divorcee, I was a child of God. I was loved and worthy and wanted.  I was forgiven and set free from my past.  I was made new and chosen to be His. And that was an amazing feeling.

Even before He made the world,

God loved us and chose us in Christ

to be holy and without fault in His eyes.

God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family

by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ.

This is what he wanted to do,

and it gave him great pleasure.

So praise God for the glorious grace he has poured

out on us who belong to his dear Son.

Ephesians 1:4-6

One of those days...

I'm having one of those days...one of those days where my to do list feels three miles long and I'm spewing emotions all over the place. It's not pretty.

See tonight I've opened up my home to friends old and new, acquaintances and strangers to study God's word and Lysa TerKeurst's Made to Crave. Which is why I found myself de-cluttering my kitchen this morning instead of using my "quiet" time to read my devotional and Bible and to pray. I should really know better by now.

I know that by starting my day this way my day goes more smoothly. I feel more in control. I have more patience. I enjoy my day.  But this morning I listened to Satan's lies telling me my kitchen clutter was repulsive and more important.

Then my children were up and I found myself rushing Eva to get ready for school and losing patience with my little two.  I snapped at my husband. I found myself looking around at my house; one that I typically find cozy and comfortable but all I could see was how it was lacking.

Then came the email from church saying the books for our study, the ones that were supposed to be here, are not here. They've been delayed by the weather. I took it upon myself to worry and fret and stress about whether or not they will make it here today.

Then I started looking at myself and how the jeans that fit well yesterday now felt tight. My sweater no longer fit right. Who am I trying to kid? I was feeling like a failure, like a hypocrite. Completely inadequate for leading a group of women through God's word.

So I found myself crying and yelling and pleading with my husband to pray with me over the phone. It's one of those days that I just want a re-do and it was only 8:30 in the morning.

I prayed (and apologized) with my husband. I put our youngest down for a nap. I put a movie on for Lorelei and determined to ignore all the "bad mom" thoughts for letting her watch tv.  I sat down and opened up my devotional, Unglued, also by Lysa TerKeurst. Here is the first thing I read:

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!

Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.

Isaiah 43:18-19

It was exactly what I needed to hear and exactly when I needed to hear it. If I had read that a few hours earlier I doubt it would have been as significant. It went on to talk about how on "one of those days" you need to stand firm on what you know and not get whisked away in a sea of emotions.  That I am the boss of my feelings, not a slave to them. That a few bad moments don't make me a bad person and they don't define who I am.  That I need to position my heart in a place to experience God.

For me, one of those places where I hear God is right here on my blog. So I sat down and opened up a new post and my fingers have hardly been able to keep up.

Bad moments don't define me.  That's not who I am! I am not a failure or a hypocrite. I am a lavishly loved child of God.  My husband, my children and my home are blessings.  And He has put me on this journey, leading these women through God's word and Made to Crave.

Father God, remind me that you are always here for me on good days and bad.  Help me to enjoy the good ones and to look for how you are turning around the not-so-good ones.  Give me your power to react in a graceful and godly way when I'm having "one of those days".  Shut down Satan's attacks against me. Protect the women that you have put on this journey with me. Remind us all of your love and and our need for You.  And if it is safe to do so bring those books through the snow to us. :)  In Jesus precious name, Amen.

As I wrap this post up the snow has stopped  falling and the sun has come out making the snow glisten and glitter in such a spectacular way.  Everything is once again white and pure and beautiful.  It's like God just smiled at me and gave me a re-do.

Finally, bothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, 

whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely,

whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent

or praiseworthy - think about such things.

Philippians 4:8

The stealing of innocence...

A while ago my dear friend Shelly asked me what I thought about "tag teaming" and writing about our experiences with depression.  I immediately thought it was a great idea and then she said something about digging deep and I inwardly groaned.

I know nothing is wasted in God's economy. He uses the good stuff and the bad stuff. We may never know who or what or how.  I've been on the receiving end of someone using all their hurt to guide me along and so I believe that God is calling me to do the same.  But some stuff is just hard to talk about, hence the inward groan.

Shelly, author of Just Trying to find My Way and I were tossing around ideas of how to approach this tag team effort; our goal being to let those who are suffering from the same stuff that they are not alone and to maybe help explain to those who have a loved one who is suffering and just don't understand it.  We were throwing around topic ideas when she said "why don't we just start at the beginning?" Well why didn't I think of that?

For me, I grew up the classic oldest child.  Independent, stubborn, perfectionist.  I was born to lead, born to boss other people around.  I saw everything in black in white, right and wrong.  And I was my own worst enemy.  My mom often said she never punished me because the way that I was so hard on myself was worse than any punishment she could have doled out.

I wasn't a straight A student in school which meant there was always room for improvement. I put a lot of pressure on myself.  I found math and science to be hard and I struggled.  Pulling in those B's made me feel like a huge failure.

I was always comparing myself to everyone else and I always fell short.  I was never pretty enough, thin enough, athletic enough, smart enough. I never had the right clothes and my curly hair was not the right style. I wasn't popular.  I was pretty much a big bully, but to myself.

By the time I hit high school I remember feeling like my emotions were on a constant roller coaster only I mostly bounced between angry and sad.  We had a family history of depression and anxiety and so at the time it made sense to start some antidepressants. They helped in evening out some of the extremes but they left me feeling numb.

I started working when I was 15 to save money for a car. And because I was an all out go-getter, I picked up a second job too. When I was 16 I had my car and a night off so friends and I decided to go "cruising".  Does anyone still do this?  Seems so silly now, driving that mile loop over and over.  But it was the thing to do and we had fun.  I remember this particular night we spotted some boys cruising and at some point stopped to chat them up.  They weren't from our same town so we didn't know them. One of them, who was a couple of years older took a liking to me and asked me out.  I was over the moon flattered, and agreed.

I think I was one of the last of my friends to date.  It seemed like they had all been dating for a while so of course I was always wondering what was wrong with me that no boys took an interest in me.  But my night finally came and I was so nervous and excited I could hardly breathe.

I think he had a job interview so I waited around for him (talk about romantic) and then we went out for burgers.  We went for a drive and then parked at this park and sat in his car and talked.  He seemed so nice and things seemed to be going so smoothly.  Then in a blur of details I won't go in to he raped me. It was my first date. My first kiss. My first everything.

I remember he dropped me at my car and I cried the whole way home.  Somehow I knew it had to have been my fault and the guilt and the shame were suffocating.  I think I even wrote him a letter apologizing.  I felt worthless, like trash.

I stuffed the memories and tried to go on with my life.  I think on the outside I probably appeared pretty normal.  Studying, hanging out with friends, working. When I was a junior in high school I started taking college classes part time.  I thrived on the pressure to do more, be better.

I remember seeing him at college once, from a distance.  It threatened to shatter all the broken pieces that I was barely holding together.  A year or so after that sighting I was in my apartment, checking my voice-mail when my world shattered.  He had gotten my number from someone and wanted to know if I wanted to go out some time....four years later.

I told my parents. I moved out of my apartment. I think I even changed my phone number.  I was so scared. I started counseling and I learned there that being date raped was not my fault.  It took many years to come to a place of acceptance and of healing.

Sharing this part of my story is leap of faith and a feeling of God's prompting. I don't know how God is going to use this one. It is one of those things I wish I could delete from my past and never have to think of (or share) again, yet I know that it's a piece of what's shaped me to be who I am.

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired of waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along. 

If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our praying in and for us, 

making prayer out of wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves and keeps us present before God. That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.  Romans 8:28 

*To read Shelly's tag-team post, go to www.somethingaboutthecolororange.blogspot.com and read The stealing of innocence...

Grace...

I've been mulling over the word grace for the last few days.  Grace is defined as God's unmerited favor.  Basically, being loved when we are unlovable.

One of my favorite lyrics comes from David Crowder's How He Loves, it says 'if His grace is an ocean, we're all sinking'. My husband and I went on a cruise for our honeymoon.  Our day at sea we got up early and perched ourselves on the rail to watch the sun rise out of the ocean.  I remember feeling so small and insignificant.  I also remember my husband telling me how God created that perfect and spectacular sunrise just for us.  Maybe he was just trying to be romantic but we both knew it was true.

Sometimes it's hard to wrap my head around it.  That God loves me as big as the ocean felt that day, stretching out endlessly in every direction.  After all, who am I to deserve this great big love when most days I feel so unlovable?

And that's just it. I don't deserve it and I never will.  There isn't a thing I can do to earn God's favor and yet He keeps lavishing me in His love.  I love how the Message portrays this in Isaiah 43:1-7 (paraphrased):

But now, God's message,

the God who made you in the first place,

the One who got you started:

"Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you.

I've called your name. You're mine.

When you're in over you're head, I'll be there with you.

When you are in rough waters, you will not go down.

When you're between a rock and a hard place-

it won't be a dead end-

because I am God, your personal God,

the Holy of Israel, your Savior.

I paid a huge price for you:

all of Egypt with rich Cush and Seba thrown in!

That's how much you mean to me!

That's how much I love you!

I'd sell off the whole world to get you back,

trade the creation just for you.

So don't be afraid: I'm with you.

I'm round up all your scattered children,

pull them in from the east and the west.

I'll send orders north and south:

'Send them back.

Return my sons from distant lands,

my daughters from faraway places.

I want them back, every last one who bears my name,

every man, woman and child

whom I created for My glory,

yes, personally formed and made each one.'"

We sang a new song at church today. I've got an affinity for songs that can make you feel and this one tied together all the things I was thinking about grace.  It said "your grace abounds in deepest waters, your sovereign hand will be my guide, where feet may fail and fear surrounds me, you've never failed and you won't start now, so I will call upon Your name, and keep my eyes above the waves, when oceans rise, I will rest in your embrace, for I am Yours and You are mine". 

For I am Yours and You are mine...

Best and Worst of 2013...

My photo a day prompt the other day was "the best bits of 2013" and yet as I sit here and reflect on the year I can't help but remember "the worst bits of 2013".  The year began in a dark place for me, full of isolation and heavy with tears.  Feeling cold, empty, confused and alone.

 And yet I don't want to forget it. I don't want to forget the feeling of coming out of that dark place into glorious sunshine.  Arriving in a place full of healing and grace and hope.

There's an opportune time to do things, a right time for everything on the earth:

A right time for birth and another for death,

A right time to plant and another to reap,

A right time to kill and another to heal,

A right time to destroy and another to construct,

A right time to cry and another to laugh,

A right time to lament and another to cheer,

A right time to make love and another to abstain,

A right time to embrace and another to part,

A right time to search and another to count your losses,

A right time to hold on and another to let go,

A right time to rip out and another to mend,

A right time to shut up and another to speak up,

A right time to love and another to hate,

A right time to wage war and another to make peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Father God, grant me discernment in 2014. Help me to understand what "time" it is.  Guide me through the next year's challenges and help me to celebrate the moments of joy.  Remind me I can't have the best bits without also having the worst bits, but that you are there no matter what time it is.  Thank you Lord for your grace. Thank you for you love. Amen.

Revolution...

I've received such a crazy wonderful response from sharing my testimony.  Thank you so much to those of you who prayed and shared your kind words with me.  I'm flattered and humbled.  My story is mine, but the words, Jesus gave them all to me and then gave me the courage to share them.

I gave my testimony twice, once at our Christmas Eve Eve service and again on Christmas Eve.  That first day, last Monday, I was so nervous.  I was practicing reading it to no one and I couldn't even get through it without hyperventilating.  I finally just had to stop practicing and trust that God would take care of it.

I was feeling attacked from every direction that day. I woke up with a terrible headache and a sore throat. My kids were fighting and whinny and clingy and I was so short with them.  I took Eva to a friends house to have two very loose teeth pulled out and she of course handled it in her own dramatic fashion. While I was gone Mia puked all over Dana while he was home for lunch.

I was mad at that point.  I said "Satan, you can mess with me, but leave my kids alone!"  I called upon my own personal prayer warriors and both girls were fine after that.

By the time I got to church my heart was racing and my knees were knocking.  I told myself over and over, "This is not about me, it's all about Jesus."  I missed most of the worship songs and the sermon and then my husband was letting me know it was time to make our way to the front, I think I went in to autopilot.  Before I knew it I was at the microphone reading my prepared testimony.  I even caught myself looking up now and again.  I was thankful that that the spotlight prevented me from really seeing anyone, except one lady sitting in the second row, her smile so friendly and radiating.  Before I knew it we were singing "Silent Night" and it was over.

The response and the hugs I got after was amazing.  My husband and I stayed up late talking and giddy.  The next morning I woke up expecting to be attacked again but I wasn't.  The day was so peaceful, I was so excited to share what Jesus had given me again.  Then I found out that 18 people had chosen to put their faith in Christ from the previous services. I was pumped!  This time I enjoyed the music and the sermon. My heart did still flutter as I headed up front but there were no knocking knees or hyperventilating. Whew!

There aren't even adequate words to describe how wonderful the whole experience was. And that a total of thirty four people chose a life following Jesus was the icing on the cake. Hallelujah!

The next couple of days were spent with family doing the normal Christmas-y things but I couldn't help but feel such a let down. Pretty soon I was weepy at the drop of a hat. I was having trouble sleeping. I fell into my old patterns of negative, self destructive talk in my head.  What was wrong with me? Didn't I just tell a whole lot of people that Jesus had taken that all from me? I was feeling like such a failure.

The windchill was 34 below zero this morning when we loaded up our troop for church.  I was not very excited to be going to church and even less excited about taking our little girls out in the cold.  But my husband, being himself would not relent. (More often than not I am thankful for this later, but not in the moment.)

The sermon was about a New Year's Revolution as opposed to a resolution.  A revolution is a sudden, complete or marked change. Our pastor said that we could choose to focus on our wounds, our hurt, our challenges or we could move forward and choose life. (Deuteronomy 30:19)

Then our pastor challenged me. He asked if we were following the 'natural path' or if we were fixing our eyes on Jesus and following His path? Do I know how God sees me?

And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.
2 Corinthians 3:18

The Lord sees us in all of our potential and who He has created us to be. Perfectly and wonderfully made. And then, in one of my favorite verses of the whole Bible it says "The LORD your God is with you. He is mighty to save.  He will take great delight in you. The quietness of His love will calm you. He will sing with joy because of you." Zephaniah 3:17

Friends, what I need is so much bigger that anything this world can offer me.  What I need is a mighty savior.  One who doesn't see me as a failure, sitting in my pit of negativity, worry and fear.  Instead He sees me as His child and in His image.  He takes delight in me! In me!

On the brink of a revolution, I am claiming this verse for my 2014:

"Trust me", He said...

A few weeks ago I received an email asking me if I would consider sharing my testimony at our church's Christmas Eve service. I literally started hyperventilating while reading it and yet, my head was screaming "Yes!".  What?!?

A friend of mine happened to stop by right after I got the email and she said sweetly "We'll just pray about it."  And pray we did.  Even though my body started to panic every time I thought about it my head remained very calm. I took this as God's prompting and agreed.

Every day I prayed God would give me the words he wanted me to share.  And the days flew by and I still had nothing.  I found myself sitting in church last week, trying to watch my 2 year old sing "Away in the Manager" but my heart was racing and my palms were sweating and I was panicking.

I found myself explaining to God that Christmas was just over a week away (like He didn't know or something). I needed the words! I needed them now! And then this peace washed over me and He said "Trust me." and I didn't have any choice but to do just that.

The next day I sat down with my pastor. I thought maybe if I knew what to expect from the service that it would help me to get started.  He went over the order of the service with me and told me what he had planned for the sermon. Then he encouraged me to write it like a blog post and that part was genius.

I sat down that night and the words flowed out of my fingertips and across the keys almost faster than I could type. I realized that I had had to wait for the words until I knew what the sermon was going to be on. I sent it off to my pastor and he helped me clarify a few points and then told he told me it was perfect. I even started to get a little excited about sharing it and how God would use it.

I was laying in bed one night, unable to sleep when I was struck with absolute fear.  I realized some of the things I was going to share in my testimony I hadn't ever really said out loud, except to my husband. I have shared most of it here before but maybe I'm naive enough to think there is a certain anonymity with my blog.  It's so easy to hit "publish", put on my jammies and crawl in to bed.

And then there was the alarm I felt when my husband said we should invite our families.  It's not that I didn't want them there, I do.  It's just that I don't want them to come to hear me. I don't want anyone to come to hear me because it's not about me.  It's all about Jesus.

Then just this morning a sweet friend texted me to say she was praying for me and asking if I was anxious.  I told her that I've been keeping myself distracted with my girls and reciting verses in my head all morning. I also shared, at the risk of sounding superficial, that I was most worried about having to "get ready".  I still don't know what I'm going to wear, or do with my hair or how I'll cover my face.  This is always when Satan attacks me, when I'm trying to make myself "presentable".

And she responded with "In Matthew when he talks about worry he specifically says "don't worry about what you will wear"...I know this is really a metaphor, but it's not worth our time. Pray instead that no matter how you look people see the Holy Spirit in you. How beautiful is that to look at?!"

I realized that this had been my prayer all along. That God would receive the glory. That I could be His vessel to share His message. And so here it is:

It’s been nearly 20 years since I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I had seen councilors, taken various prescription medications and gone through an outpatient treatment program to learn coping skills. Most of the time I just felt numb.

About 10 years ago I was driving along a stretch of highway 22 between here and Hutchinson crying my eyes out.  I was tired of going through my days in a fog, feeling sad and lonely and broken.  I didn’t know where else to turn. I had lost hope.  I pulled my car over and in desperation cried out for Jesus to enter my heart and to fix me.

I was naive enough to think I would feel some miraculous healing, but I didn’t.  I did however start going back to church. I had grown up going to church sometimes and to Sunday school most of the time.  I knew all the Bible stories and had memorized verses but after I was confirmed there just didn’t seem to be a lot of reason for me to keep going to church.

 I met my husband at church.  He accepted me and all my imperfection and has shown me every day what unconditional love looks like.  It felt like walking out of a dark forest and feeling the sunshine on your face.  I thought I had found a cure in my faith.

Somewhere after the birth of our first daughter, Eva the joy started to slip away. I started to close in on myself. Even though I had Jesus in my life now, a doting husband and a precious baby, it wasn't enough. We struggled financially. We had a miscarriage and then had our daughters Lorelei and Amelia 14 months apart.

There were so many highs and lows I couldn't keep up and somewhere along the way I lost myself in the gloom.  Last winter I found myself admitting to my husband that I was having thoughts of taking my life. Even though I firmly believed I wouldn't act on them it scared me that they were there, inside my head. So I made a choice.

I chose to once again to cry out to Jesus, not to fix me this time, but to lead me. First He led me to a bible study called Made to Crave.  It changed not only the way I thought about food but the way I looked at myself.  It made me rediscover who I was as God’s child. Loved, accepted and wanted.

Then He led me to take a long hard look at my family.  My relationship with Dana was not what it should be so I chose to focus on showing him love, everyday. The depth of our love now has grown immensely. Most days my kids left me feeling tired and drained so I decided to seek joy in everyday things and to give thanks at the end of each day.  Now it’s hard not to look at my kids in complete awe.

I sought out God’s promises for me and I surrounded myself with them and then ever so slowly the negativity stopped ruling my days.  God began restoring my passion and my hope.  He began healing broken relationships in my life. He lifted the fog from my eyes and He filled me with joy. 

I once was lost but now I am found.

If you would like to join us in worship of our King at Cornerstone, services are at 7 pm tonight and 3:30 pm and 5:00 pm tomorrow (Christmas Eve).  *The 3:30 pm service will be directed towards families with young children.*

Living water...

I was catching up with a friend yesterday. I told her how I felt like I was on top of a proverbial mountain; how God was bringing such peace and restoration to my life.  How I felt that God was revealing to me a purpose in my life and giving me the words to share with others.  It's an absolutely glorious feeling.

Yet I can't help but feel anxious at the same time, because I've been on the mountain top before and it's usually followed by a trip through the valley.  I feel like I just emerged from the valley, I don't want to go back there!

Then she shared with me this illustration: if I was a serious mountain climber I would never be able to hang out on the mountain top for very long.  The air is thin there and it would be dangerous to stay there too long.  And then she asked me, why do we fight the valley? Valleys are typically very beautiful.

I mulled this over for a while and then I found myself googling "valley".  I came up with a lot words like low, dark, foggy which are intimidating words.  But what I also found is that almost every definition or description of a valley said "often having a river or stream flowing through it".

I immediately recalled the story of Jesus talking to the Samaritan woman at the well. Jesus asks her for a drink and she taken aback because Jews did not associate with Samaritans and Jesus says to her "If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would given you living water." (John 4:10). She asks where to find this living water and Jesus says "Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life." (verses 13 & 14).

I dug a little deeper and found John 7:37-39 Now on the last day, the day of the great feast, Jesus stood and cried out, saying, "If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. He who believes in Me, as the scripture said, 'From his inmost being will flow rivers of living water.'"  But this he spoke of the Spirit, whom those who believed in Him were to receive; for the Spirit was not yet given because Jesus was not yet glorified.

It's a simple and well known fact that our physical bodies need water to live. But God designed us that we would need water to spiritually live too; living water, the Holy Spirit.  So as marvelous as these mountain tops are I think walking through the valley is what allows us to drink in the living water.

Surprisingly, a trip through the valley doesn't sound as scary, maybe even a little exciting.  Knowing that God will be there guiding my path and restoring my soul...

The Lord is my Shepard, I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures;

He leads me beside quiet waters.

He restores my soul; 

He guides me in the path of righteousness

For His name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley

of the shadow of death, 

I fear no evil,

for You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff,

they comfort me.

Psalm 23:1-4

Attitude...

I'm not sure who said "Attitude is everything." but they were so right.  Yesterday I was having one of those days where it was just so hard to have a good attitude about anything.  The harder I tried the more I got sucked in my own negativity.  I was tired and tired of feeling tired. The kids were cranky. It was snowing...a lot.  Then I finally had to say enough is enough.  I put Mia down for a nap and then put in a good workout of putting Lorelei in her snow gear.  We went outside to play and wait for Eva to get home from school and I could feel my bad attitude blow away with the swirling snowflakes.

I know it's not always that easy.  I spent many months trapped in my negativity.  It was last winter in fact.  To protect our baby who was born premature we decided to spend the winter "hibernating".  What that boiled down to was I left the house twice a week.  Once to grocery shop and once to go to bible study.  The walls of my already small house quickly closed in on me.

When Mia was about 8 months (and 4 months into hibernation) she started to regress if you will.  She simply stopped sitting and refused to be put in a sitting position.  She wasn't doing well with eating baby food and then she started to struggle with bottles too.  Now for a mama who has been hibernating for 4 months with a baby and a danger-seeking curious one year old it was almost more than I could take.

There was particular day that was going very badly.  It must have been the weekend because my husband and Eva were home to witness my frustration.  I was trying to feed Mia and she was struggling and refusing.  I threw the bottle across the room. It broke open leaving a sticky trail of formula down the wall and puddled on the floor.  I set Mia down on the floor and simply walked out of the house, slamming the door.  I got in the car and started driving, nowhere.  I was crying so hard I probably shouldn't have been driving but I felt like if I didn't escape my bad attitude it was going to make me explode.

It's funny what we do when our attitudes go south.  Kids throw tantrums.  I myself tend to cry, yell, slam doors...similar to a tantrum I suppose.  I wish I had the restraint of my husband.  When he's having a bad day he disappears to the basement and tackles the laundry with increased fervor. Somedays I think he's superhuman but I'm pretty sure God put us together so that he would balance my erratic ups and downs.

It was shortly after that episode when I witnessed one of Eva's tantrums.  I could so clearly see myself in her that it quite frankly scared me.  I didn't want to be this way and I didn't want her to think it was okay.  So began mission good attitude.

It involved a lot of prayer, continuous prayer to see things the way God sees them.  I had been participating in an online photo a day challenge for some time by then but it was amazing the way I started seeing differently.  Seeing beauty and being awestruck.

I kept a journal handy, on the top of the page I wrote "Joy is..." and everyday I would challenge myself to see joy in things and write it down and then reread it a hundred times. In those really, really frustrating moments I would go in another room and take deep breathes or if Dana was home I'd head for a walk or a bath or my bedroom.  And ever so slowly my negativity stopped ruling my days.

One night Dana and I sat down and wrote out a list of "house rules" to serve as a reminder to us and as an example to our kids of who we are and strive to be.  It did get a bit lengthy but we did it with the understanding that none of us are perfect, but there is grace. We keep it displayed in our kitchen, the hub of our home, so we all can see it.  And when an issue arises we can gently point out "rule number 12...." or whichever applies.

I was watching Veggie Tales "Sweetpea Beauty" with my girls and there was a part that struck me and has stayed with me.  Prince Larry says "How is it that you find beauty in everything?" Sweetpea replies "I don't. It's God who see the beauty in everything. I just choose to agree with him."

And so I choose to agree with him too and things (and my attitude) are ever so much brighter.

Rejoice...

For the last several months I have had this nagging cough.  The kind that keeps you awake at night but doesn't bother you during the day so you forget all about it.  I've tried everything I can think of to get rid of the cough but it continues to linger.

Last week the cough sparked a mighty asthma attack. One that forced me to abandon my cart at Wal-mart and go home (being me, I did return everything that I had placed in my cart to it's proper place on the shelf before ditching the cart).  I laid on the living room floor wondering at what point I would ask my husband to take me to the ER.  He meanwhile was googling ways to help me breathe.  He came across a homeopathic remedy that was said to help and asked if it was one I had on hand.  It just so happened to be the same one a friend had dropped off that afternoon.  I took and with in minutes I was breathing again. Divine intervention.

The next morning I woke up feeling like I had swallowed razor blades and so completely wiped out from the lack of sleep and the latest attack. My husband told me enough was enough and urged me to go and get some chest x-rays.  As I waiting for the doc to take a look at them I didn't know how to pray.  Let there be something wrong so that the doctor can treat me and the cough will go away? Let everything be okay but, Lord, please take the cough away?  The chest x-rays were clear.  However the doctor did inform me I had both a sinus infection and an ear infection.  My sinuses and my ear weren't even bothering me! Why Lord? Why is it always something?

About an hour after my 6 year old came home from school that day I noticed what looked like a rash appearing on her face.  As the evening progressed hives started to spread all over body. Early the next morning I heard her calling for me.  I bolted out of bed to find her throwing up. When she stood up she started to cry and panic saying everything had gone black and she couldn't see.  We headed to the ER.  The doc was stumped as to what was causing the hives that were continuing to get worse but said it wasn't uncommon not to know the cause.  That night the hives continue to spread until she was covered from her head to her toes.  My anxiety was through the roof.  Why God, why?

As I tucked Eva in bed that night I saw that she had copied a bible verse and it hung it on her closet door.

But Lord, I am so miserable and so tired!  I am worried about my little girl and tomorrow is Thanksgiving! You want me to Rejoice?!?!

I was expressing my irritation to my husband about how there was "always something".  His reply made me think.  He said that maybe it was to keep me humble and dependent on God, like the thorn in Paul's side.

Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weakness, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in my weakness, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.  2 Corinthians 12:7b-10

So I will rejoice for this cough in my chest and know that God's power is being made perfect in my weakness.  

Move...

A few weeks ago our pastor was preaching a sermon on being fully engaged in worship.  He was delivering a great message and hitting all his points when he got to "if you want be fully engaged in worship you have to move". He whipped out a 100 dollar bill and said it was to go to whoever moved to get it first. It went to some ten-ish year old boy sitting near the front.

I was sitting towards the back that day with two dear friends on one side of me and a young man on the other.  I didn't stand a chance...not that I actually tried.

It was then that God began speaking to me about the young man to my left.  I knew this young man.  In fact we were family who had grown very distant.  In my dark days I had built thick, strong, tall walls guarding myself.  This of course did nothing but bring about tension, unease and general discord which lead to a chasm that seemed far to wide to bridge.

God said to me "You have to make the first move."

I argued with God.  "I don't want to. It will be too hard and too uncomfortable. I don't even know what I'd say. It's been too long. What if he doesn't understand? What if he doesn't care? What if I just make a mess of things (again)?"

God said again "You have to make the first move."

"But God," I said, "I wouldn't know where to start. Lord give me the words to say to explain so he'll understand. So I can make things right again."

The pastor was moving on with the sermon, reading from Psalm 95, the part where it warns against your heart becoming hard.

My stomach in knots, I tried again. "God, why today? I'm too scared.  I can't do this. Tell me what to do. Give me the courage.  I can't do this without you."

Now we were singing and taking offering and I knew the service was quickly coming to an end.  I felt like I was visibly shaking by this point.  The pastor stood up and gave one last call to "move" in our faith.

God said to me "Hug him."

I'm pretty sure I laughed.  "Really? You want me to hug him. He's not going to hear me out let alone accept a hug.  Oh Lord..."

Everyone was standing, ready to head out of the church.  Here goes nothing.  I leaned over to put my arm around the young man in an attempt to do the half hug thing thinking "But God, what am I supposed to say?"

That's when I was enveloped in a bear hug and I started to sob right there on his shoulder.  My walls and all my hesitations just crumbled right on the floor of the sanctuary that day.  We didn't talk long.  I apologized and he reassured me that we were still family and that he loved me and that we'd get through this too.

I was bubbling over with excitement to share the experience with my husband when I got home.  Since then we've gotten together, as family, and started walking down a glorious path of reconciliation.  Thank you Lord, for asking me to move.

Thankful...

Thanksgiving is just a few days away.  The trend of saying something you are thankful for each day is spreading like wildfire on Facebook.  Today at church we had the opportunity to jot something down on a leaf and decorate barren trees.  I love this!

Last year about this time I found members of our family (myself included) entering the holiday season with the "I want" attitude.  I decided this had to be nipped in the bud immediately.  I bought a large piece of tag board and hung it in our dinning room.  Each night we began going around the table and saying something we were thankful for that day and then writing it down.

We made it to Christmas and I thought...

WHAT IF WE WERE THANKFUL ALL YEAR?

So we kept at it.  We're on our third piece of tag board now. We keep them all hung in a place we can see them and it's great to reflect on.  That awesome sunrise...that great run...God's provision...playing with a friend...cheese.  They're all on there.

But what about when it's hard to be thankful?

There are bad days.  Days that even though I have a roof over my head, clothes on my body and food in my belly the last thing I want to do is be thankful.  Days when everything that could go wrong, did.  Days when the kids refuse to nap and instead cry and whine and yell and pout.  Days when I misinterpret what my husband is saying to me.  Days when I'm just mad.  What then?

Then I praise. Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. Praise the Lord. Psalm 150:6

Sometimes its singing.  Sometimes it's finding a quiet moment to sit with God. Sometimes it's reading a bible story to my kids before tucking them in.  Sometimes it's just being thankful that tomorrow is a new day.  The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great in his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning. Lamentations 3:22 & 23.

I see the light...

I think I was 13 or 14 when the words "depression" and "anxiety" came out.  There was a family history of both, mix that with a mess of female teenage hormones and there I was. I put on a pretty good front for years.  I went to school and got good grades.  I worked hard at my job, sometimes taking on 2 or 3 jobs at a time. I had a social life, although it wasn't terribly exciting.  No one knew that most days I felt like I was suffocating in an all consuming darkness that I couldn't fight my way out of.

In my early 20's I hit my rock bottom.  I took some pills, not because I wanted to die but because I wanted to shut off the world for a while.  I slept for a couple of days and when I woke up I knew I was in trouble.  I checked into an outpatient treatment program.  They taught me coping skills and prescribed anti-depressants.  I felt numb most of the time.

A couple of years later a friend of mine proposed to me.  We had never had a romantic relationship before. More the kind of stand-in-date type when you have have an awkward family function or wedding to go and want a friendly face there kind of relationship.  He had just graduated from Navy boot camp and I think more than anything he was scared and wanted a friendly face with him. I was naive enough to think this was the only way someone was ever going to love me.  Our marriage was in shambles before it started.  He was emotionally abusive and I was manipulative. It lasted 10 months before I had the courage to go home.

The word "divorce" made me feel used up, tainted, good for nothing.  The darkness was threatening to take me down once again.  I started going to church.  I started clinging to Jesus as my last hope, hope to see the light again.  I met a woman at church.  Divorced. Remarried. Happy.  She taught me what it was to have God make you new again and told me that I wasn't forever tainted by my past and my mistakes.

Then I met my husband.  He showed me, everyday, what unconditional love looks like.  He accepted me and all my imperfection and loved me right where I was.  The darkness disappeared and I could feel the light on my face.

Somewhere after the birth of our first daughter the joy started to slip away.  I started to close in on myself.  Even though I had Jesus in my life now, a doting husband and a precious baby, it wasn't enough anymore.  We struggled financially, we had a miscarriage and then two more baby girls back to back.  And somewhere along the way I lost myself in the gloom again.

I found myself admitting to my husband that I was having thoughts of taking my life.  I firmly believed that I would not act on them but even having them there scared me.  So I made a choice.

I chose to seek Jesus out and ask for His help.  I chose to prioritize my marriage. I chose to look at my kids in awe.  I chose to change my lifestyle and get healthy.  I sought out wisdom from doctors and through homeopathy. I surrounded myself with my friends and my family.  I chose to claw my way back out out of the blackness that was pinning me down.

A few months ago it was like the fog lifted and the light on my face never felt so good. I choose, everyday, to overcome instead of being overcome.

Do I think I'm "cured"? Probably not.  But I know now with Holy Spirit empowered determination, trust and love, I can do just about anything.

Oh, no more sorrow, no more pain

No more darkness weighing down on me

No longer blind now I can see

Forever light, Forever free

Grace...

My husband is a pusher.  It's wonderful and annoying all at the same time.  He gives 110% to everything he does and he expects everyone around him to do the same.  He's always trying to improve, to be more efficient, to find a better way. "Settle" and "okay" are not words in his vocabulary.

I've known my husband for nearly nine years now.  In those nine years he has been pushing me to try harder, do more, aim higher. I admit that sometimes this make me want to lob heavy objects in his direction but I am eternally thankful for his pushing.  I wouldn't be where I am without his pushing.

God is a pusher too.  He asks us to live in constant dependence on him.  To listen to His calling. To share His message.  He asks us to step out of our comfort zone and do His will with no promise of recognition.  He wants us to be courageous.

The funny thing about courage is that it requires us to be vulnerable.  And I just couldn't do that if I didn't have someone pushing me.  God is pushing me to a new place.  A place of grace.

He has carried me through such grief and sadness.  Times of despair.  He has given me struggles with food, depression and anxiety and yet He says in Jeremiah 29:11 says "For I know the plans I have for you" declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." and Romans 8:28 says "And we know in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."

Someone once told me without a mess you wouldn't have a message.  You, Messiah are the best match for my mess!

Thank you God for my my mess and for pushing me out of it.  Patti Hill said "Enjoying God's grace is sloppy business."  I couldn't have said it better myself.