A Dream

A little "God story" for today. Last week, Anna had an emergency room visit after an allergic reaction to milk. The day was long and we were all exhausted by the evening. I had a therapy session the next morning with two teens; I was trying something new (video self-modeling) that I was excited about, but did not have personal experience with. Instead of having the time to educate and prepare myself for the session, I went to bed stressed out because I had NO clue what I would be doing the next day. Before I went to bed, Ben prayed for me; that things would go well and that I would know what to do at the right time.

The next morning I woke up after a dream. Typically, if I'm anxious about something, I have dreams that incorporate that anxiety into them (i.e., the thing I fear most happens). That night, however, I had a dream like I'd never had before. I was in my therapy session, and it was going extremely well. I knew exactly what to do, what to say, and how to lead the two girls. Each part of the session played out vividly in my mind. I woke up knowing exactly what I needed to do during our time- from beginning to end. I grabbed my iPad and made a note of each step. I felt completely at peace, prepared, and confident. The session went beautifully, exactly as I had "planned" for it to go that morning. Except I did none of the planning. I had no clue what to do, and God literally handed it to me, word-for-word. How cool is that.

Good

A few week ago Ben and I celebrated our sixth wedding anniversary! It's hard to believe it has been that long. It's hard to believe only six years ago we were saying, "I do." Anniversaries always give me a reason to pause and reflect on life, love, and God's work.




The season that Ben and I have entered recently has been one of joy. Our children are thriving, my mental health is the best it's ever been, our marriage is thriving, we have a wonderful living situation. We have finally found true community: a church we love, good friends, and two discipleship relationships that we've prayed for, for a long time. I've found my place in the church and have started a ministry that I'm passionate about. The girls attend a church school that is wonderful and affordable. Ben's job is not perfect, as no job is, but it's good and he has a supervisor who cares about him as a person. I've found a part-time job that allows me the opportunity to use my skills without sacrificing my children's care.




Things are in no way perfect, or always easy, but for the first time in our marriage (and honestly, in my life) things feel good. They feel healthy, and easier. They feel more natural. This feels much different from the adversity we have gone through in the past. Both in our marriage and in life in general. I honestly never knew that things could be this good. I have been so used to expecting the worst and thinking I didn't deserve much better; that it would never happen for me. And now that it has, it is easy to see God as loving, kind, good, and present.



But God is always good. Not that I haven't felt that way in the past, but it feels so easy at this time in our lives. When things go well, when we experience 'blessings' (that word is not always appropriate, for easy things are not the only form of blessing), we walk around saying that "God is good."  We know in our minds that God is good. That he can never be anything but good, however, if we are honest with ourselves, this doesn't always ring true in our lives. We don't always believe it in our hearts, and we don't always act as though it's true. It's hard to believe that God truly, truly cares about us when we are walking through the fire. It is hard to believe that God truly hasn't forgotten us, that he hasn't turned his back from our pain, that he is the epitome of lovingkindness. During this season of my life, I don't want to simply sit back and relish in the beauty of today, right now. I want to sink my roots in God's goodness no matter the season. No matter the circumstances.






When my father was killed.
He was good.




When I was depressed as a child.
He was good.




When my heart was broken by a man I loved.
He was good.




When Ben and I experienced deep brokenness overseas.
He was good.




When we struggled in our marriage.
He was good.




When we lost our first baby.
He was good.




When we almost lost Anna.
He was good.




When the nurse came back to tell us that our daughter's amputation was complete.
He was good.




When I wept over the effect of life-threatening allergies on my family's life.
He was good.




When my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer.
He was good.




When I battle with the risk of losing my daughter to anaphylaxis.
He is good.




He wept with me. He cared. He loved. 
Just as much then as now.




Just. As. Much. Then. As. Now.




He was good. He is good. He will be good. For all of eternity. Today, tomorrow, and yesterday.


I know that I will again walk through difficulty, sorrow, and adversity. But I pray that my faith will not waver; that I will not experience God's goodness any less, any less tangible, than I do right now. That I will believe and act in my heart as though God is truly who he says he is. That I will know that my experience of reality does not affect the reality that God is who he says he is.




Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name

Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name

Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say,

 Blessed be the name of the Lord

- Matt Redman

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;

his love endures forever.

Psalm 107:1

Restoring Lost Years

I try not to re-post articles on my blog, but this one left me really touched and I thought it might encourage you as it encouraged me.


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GOD CAN RESTORE YOUR LOST YEARS

Money can be restored. Property can be restored—broken-down cars, stripped painting, old houses. Relationships can be restored. But one thing that can never be restored is time. Time flies and it does not return. Years pass and we never get them back.


Yet God promises the impossible: “I will restore the years that the locust has eaten” (Joel 2:25). The immediate meaning of this promise is clear. God’s people had suffered the complete destruction of their entire harvest through swarms of locusts that marched like an insect army through the fields, destroying the crops, multiplying their number as they went.


For four consecutive years, the harvest was completely wiped out. God’s people were brought to their knees in more ways than one. But “the Lord became jealous for his land and had pity on his people.” God said, “Behold I am sending to you grain, wine and oil, and you will be satisfied (Joel 2:18-19).


In the coming years, God said, their fields would yield an abundance that would make up for what had been lost: “The threshing floor shall be full of grain; the vats shall overflow with wine and oil. . . . You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied” (Joel 2:24, 26).


This wonderful promise for those people meant that years of abundant harvests would follow the years of desolation brought about by the locusts. 

But God has also put this promise in the Bible for us today. 

Lost Years of Our Lives

What do “lost years” look like for us? Lost years (or locust years) are years that you can’t get back, and they come in many varieties.

Lost years are fruitless years. A lot of hard work was done in the years the locusts had eaten. After everything was destroyed, the people must have thought, All this work and what do I have to show for it? Some of you know this pain in the world of business—a failed venture, a bad investment, a misguided policy, and all the effort that you put in day-by-day, month-by-month, year-by-year led only to massive disappointment. You think, What has come of all my time and all my effort? 

Lost years are painful years. I’m thinking of those who have lost a loved one. You had plans for the future, but now you fear the coming years may be empty. I’m thinking also of those who live with illness in the body or the mind. You assumed that you would always be able to do what you used to do. You have to find a way to live with the disappointment that you cannot.

Lost years are selfish years. Here’s a story that’s been repeated thousands of times. There’s a person (let’s call him Jim) who made a commitment to Christ, but it didn’t run deep. Faith in Jesus was a slice of the big pie of his busy life, filled with all the things that Jim wanted to pursue. Then one day, God gets hold of Jim. He is spiritually awakened. He says to himself, What in the world have I been doing? There’s no substance in my life. I really want it to count for Christ. I want to live in the power of the Spirit. I want to make a difference in the world, but the locusts have eaten half my life! I’ve wasted my years on myself.

Lost years are loveless years. A division comes to a family, alienating loved ones. Children grow up, and those years cannot be recovered. A marriage quietly endures in which love has been burning low for many years. You see a couple who are really in love, and you say, “I wish I could be loved like that.” Or you have not yet met the person you would like to meet. It feels like the years are moving on. You can never get them back. The locusts have eaten them.

Lost years are rebellious years. Perhaps you grew up with many blessings, but in your heart you wanted to rebel. You didn’t fully understand this urge, but you gave yourself to it. Instead of bringing you pleasure, rebellion brought you pain. Now you look back on those years with regret, the years that the locusts have eaten.

Lost years are misdirected years. The path you chose in your career or at college was a dead end. You just didn’t fit. Often in your mind, and sometimes in your conversation, you say, “How did I end up here? If only. . . . If only I had made that move. . . . If only I had taken that opportunity. . . . If only I had chosen a different path.” But the moment has passed. It’s gone. You can’t go back to it. You’re left with locust years.

Lost years are Christ-less years. All Christ-less years are locust years. This point is worth thinking about if you have not yet made a commitment to Christ. Ask anyone who came to faith in Christ later in life, and they will tell you that they wish they’d come to Christ sooner than they did: “How much foolishness I would have avoided. How much more good might have been done through my life.” 

How God Restores Lost Years

Take heart! There is hope, because God can restore your lost, locust years. He does so in three ways.


God can restore lost years by deepening your communion with Christ. “You shall know that I am in the midst of Israel, and that I am the Lord your God” (Joel 2:27). These people, who have endured so much, enjoy a communion with the Lord that is far greater than anything they had ever known before in their religious lives. Christ can restore lost years by deepening your fellowship with him.
Why not ask him for this? Tell him, “Lord, I have spent too many years without you, too many years at a distance from you. Fill my heart with love and gratitude for Christ. Let the loss of these years make my love for Christ greater than it would ever have been. Restore to me the years the locusts have eaten. “


God can restore lost years by multiplying your fruitfulness. The harvests for these people had been wiped out for four years, but God restored the years that the locusts had eaten by giving bumper harvests. 

This provision makes me think about the parable where Jesus spoke about a harvest that could be 30-, 60-, or 100-fold. There’s a huge difference between these three harvests. Three years at 100-fold is as much fruit as a decade at 30-fold.

Why not ask him for this? “Lord, the locusts have eaten too many years of our lives. You have called us as your disciples to bear fruit that will last. Too many fruitless years have passed. Now Lord, we ask of you, give us some years now in which more lasting fruit will be born than in all of our years of small harvests.”


God can restore lost years by bringing long-term gain from short-term loss. The effect of these great trials in your life will be that “the tested genuineness of your faith . . . may result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:7). The praise, glory, and honor go to Christ because his power guarded you and kept you through the hardest years of your life.
Thinking about “years that the locust has eaten,” years that have been taken, I think of something Isaiah said about our Lord Jesus: “He was cut off out of the land of the living” (Isaiah 53:8).
Here was the Lord Jesus in the prime of life. He was three years into his ministry at 33 years old. You would think that a man launching a new enterprise at the age of 33 has everything in front of him. But Isaiah says, “He was cut off.” He was cut off because he came under the judgment of God, not for his own sins—because he had none—but for ours.

Our sins, our grief, our sorrows, were laid on him. Our judgment fell on him. Our locusts swarmed all over him. The life of God’s tender shoot was “cut off.” Then, on the third day, the Son of God rose in the power of an eternal life. He offers himself to you, and he says what no one else can ever say: “I will restore the years that the locusts have eaten.”



Source: Colin Smith, The Gospel Coalition

Praying for the persecuted Christians in Iraq, practically

My heart has always been burdened for the persecuted church. Many people believe that Christians are not or rarely persecuted, however they are in truth the most persecuted religion in the world.

Here are some facts that I've posted before:

Did you know that over 7 countries impose death as a penalty for converting to Christianity? That it is illegal to own a bible in 52 countries? That owning a bible alone qualifies you for death in Iran? That Chinese believers are regularly tortured and imprisoned for years for worshipping in their own homes? That China alone is seeing 30,000-40,000 new believers each day and without access to bibles even pastors don't have the Word of God? That discovered Christians in North Korea, as well as three generations of their families, are sent to death camps?

The situation is Mosul, Iraq is heartbreaking and consistent with genocide.

Atrocities like this often leave us, Christians in America, feeling helpless. Yet, intercessory prayer is one of the most powerful ways we can combat the destruction of lives happening in places like Iraq, right?

Scripture says:

"Elijah was a man just like us. He prayed earnestly that it would not rain, and it did not rain for three and a half years. Again he prayed, and the heavens gave rain and the earth produced crops. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective."
(James 5)

But often is the case that Christians, including myself, don't know HOW to pray for the persecuted church; we feel lost and the words don't come. Here is a practical and biblical guide I found that can help our prayers be more guided and effective. "Remember the prisoners, as though in prison with them, and those who are ill-treated, since you yourselves also are in the body."  (Hebrews 13:3)

1. For their physical protection and deliverance.

Matthew 26:39 “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as Thou wilt.”

 Acts 12:5 “So Peter was kept in the prison, but prayer for him was being made fervently by the church to God.”

Philippians 1“For I know that this shall turn out for my deliverance (from jail) through your prayers.”

Philemon 22 “I hope that through your prayers I shall be given to you (from jail)”

Romans 15:30-31 “Now I urge you, brethren… to strive together with me in your prayers to God for me, that I may be delivered from those who are disobedient in Judea”.

God predicted persecution:
Acts 20: 23-24 “the Holy Spirit solemnly testifies to me in every city, saying that bonds and afflictions await me. But I do not consider my life of any account as dear to myself, in order that I may finish my course”

And the suffering came:

Acts 21: 30-31 “And all the city was aroused, and the people rushed together; and taking hold of Paul, they dragged him out of the temple; and… were seeking to kill him.”

2. That God would give them the right words and that they would fearlessly make Christ known.

Here Paul tells how to pray for him when he was suffering for Christ in jail—notice his prayer was not for release.

Ephesians 6:19-20 “Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should.”

Colossians 4:2-4 “Devote yourselves to prayer… praying at the same time for us as well, that God may open up to us a door for the word, so that we may speak forth the mystery of Christ, for which I have also been imprisoned; in order that I may make it clear in the way I ought to speak.”

3. That they will see God's grace as sufficient and God's power perfected in their weakness.

                          2 Corinthians 12:9-10

4. That they would love Christ's appearing all the more

“2 Timothy 4:5-8 I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith; in the future there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day; and not only to me, but also to all who have loved His appearing.”

Hebrews 11:5 “…others were tortured, not accepting their release, in order that they might obtain a better resurrection”.

5. That they will rejoice in sharing the sufferings of Jesus so that they will rejoice even more when Christ is revealed

Hebrews 10:34 “…accepted joyfully the seizure of your property, knowing that you have for yourselves a better possession and an abiding one.”

Matthew 5:12 “Rejoice, and be glad, for your reward in heaven is great, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

1 Peter 4:13 "but to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing; so that also at the revelation of His glory, you may rejoice with exultation.”

6. That they will endure

 Hebrews 10:36 “For you have need of endurance.”

7. That they will choose ill-treatment and the reproach of Christ, not pleasures of sin

Hebrews 11:24-26 Moses… (chose) rather to endure ill-treatment with the people of God, than to enjoy the passing pleasures of sin; considering the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures for Egypt.”

8. That they will arm themselves with this purpose: to suffer so as to eradicate sin

1 Peter 4:1 “arm yourselves also with the same purpose, because he who has suffered in flesh has ceased from sin.”

Hebrews 5:8  “Although He was  Son, He learned obedience from the things which He suffered.”

9. That they will love Christ far more than life itself

 Revelation 10 “they overcame (Satan) because of the blood of the Lamb and because of the word of their testimony, and they did not love their life even to death.”

 Philippians 1:21“For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”

Acts 20:24 I (Paul) do not consider my life of any account as dear to myself, in order that I may finish my course.”

10. That they will love their enemies

Luke 6:27-31 “But I say to you who hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.”

11. That they not enter into temptation—an easy possibility under the stress of persecution

                         Luke 22:39-40 - Jesus in the garden)

12. That they will rejoice that they are considered worthy to suffer for HIS name

Acts 5:41“So they went on their way from the presence of the Council, rejoicing that they had been considered worthy to suffer shame for His name.”

13. That they will remember they were made for such persecution.

Acts 14:22 “Through many tribulations we must enter the Kingdom of God.”

 Philippians 1:29 “For to you it has been granted for Christ’s sake, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake.”

14. That they will live the joy of the Lord before their persecutors

Acts 16:255 “But about midnight Paul and Silas (in jail) were praying and singing hymns of praise to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.”

Philippians 1:28 “…in no way alarmed by your opponents—which is a sign of destruction for them, but of salvation for you, and that too, from God.”

15. That they will remember their unbelievable future glory

Romans 8:18 “For I consider that the sufferings of the present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”

16. That they would learn to more completely trust in God

2 Corinthians 1:8-9 “For we do not want you to be unaware, brethren, of our affliction which came to us in Asia, that we were burdened excessively, beyond our strength, so that we despaired even of life; indeed, we had the sentence of death within ourselves in order that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God who raises the dead.”

17. That they would rejoice that they bear in their bodies the “brand marks of Christ”

Galatians 6:17 “From now on let no one cause trouble for me, for I bear on my body the brand-marks of Jesus.”

18. That they would rejoice in filling up that which is lacking in Christ's sufferings

Colossians 1:24  “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I do my share on behalf of His body (which is the church) in filling up that which is lacking in Christ' afflictions.”

Note: Our sufferings do not add to the atoning worth of Jesus' sufferings. Rather, His sufferings are not known to the world, and so we suffer to bring that news to those His sufferings were meant to save.

Source. This Biblical study on how to pray for the persecuted church was submitted by a friend of Films for Christ, a pastor who prefers to remain anonymous.

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You can also give to Voice of the Martyrs, an amazing organization that enters the trenches to provide for these suffering, often through natives of the each country. We have been giving financially to them for years and feel passionately about the work being done through them. Read more about what Voice of the Martyrs is doing for Christians fleeing Mosul here.

(They also give an opportunity to write letters of encouragement to prisoners of the faith. This is a great ministry for kids as well as adults to take part in.)

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Their most recent prayer guide map

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As life passes us by...

It's hard to believe that Anna is three years old. In some ways life has flown by the last three years while in others it has seemed to trudge on. Such is the ebb and flow of life. I've always loved the book of Ecclesiastes and its emphasis on seasons. With every season for mourning, there is a season for rejoicing.

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.

Ecclesiastes 3:1

 

God doesn't promise us there will be no sorrowful seasons, but that there is always Hope on the horizon, and often this hope is magnified and our reward of glory that much greater because of the sorrow we passed through on our way there.

 

I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead.

Philippians 3:10

 

 

Two years ago this was our baby girl:

 

 

 

 

And here she is today as beautiful, vibrant, and alive as can be:

 

 

 

I'm so thankful for the life God has brought into our lives and for every step of the road in mothering her.

 

Here are some of our latest life pictures:

 

 



 



My first 10K: The Charleston Cooper River Bridge Run



My sister and her new family's visit from Boston.

Cousins and a very happy Kimmie.

Anna's 3rd birthday

 

So thankful for these two 'peas in a fibular hemimelia pod'.

New 'do. Short hair has revolutionized my life. Why did it take me this long to realize this?

Missing Grandma and Pi's bi-monthly visit full of love and attention.

My Story

This is a long post. Too long.


I realize I haven’t posted much lately. Lately I’ve been debating whether or not I want to continue blogging. There are a lot of aspects about social media that I don't like, blogging included. I go back and forth about whether I want to keep writing, whether I have anything to say worth reading, and whether I want to continue to be vulnerable. I see no real point in blogging if I can’t be real and transparent. I’m not interested in facades. I’m not sure if I will continue, or at least write as often, but there are a few things that I like about writing that makes it hard to give up. One is the blogging community and the ability to connect with people from all over. The other is the way God speaks to me when I write- putting an experience to words makes it more tangible. It’s like I’m writing the story that God is giving. Writing in a journal never has that same effect for me. There is something to be said about speaking out your stories and experiences that changes you. God created us to live in relationship so I it makes sense that there is power in sharing them.



I’m going to share with you my story. What story? There are so many stories in life. I view it as THE story. The biggest story: "my story." Some people know parts of my story. I don’t have a problem talking about it. However, few know the whole story. I never intended to share it for several reasons:  it’s personal, I don’t want pity, and it makes me susceptible to risk. Opening yourself  is hard. Not only because it alters what others think about you, but because you allow yourself the possibility of your weaknesses being used against you. What if I share my weaknesses, and then someone I know filters everything through it? "Oh she must believe/act this way because of XYZ." No one wants to be viewed through a limited lens. Or, what if people use their knowledge as a scapegoat for their own wrongful actions? Despite these risks, self-preservation is not a healthy way to live; it doesn't facilitate true community. There’s no point in being concerned about others. That’s God’s job. My job is to be concerned about my own actions, and if there is something in my life that can lead another person towards wholeness and healing it would be a shame to keep it to myself!!  While the majority of people who read my blog, based on the traffic log, are strangers searching for fibular hemimelia information, there are some readers who are family and friends. I don’t post this blog on Facebook or any other social media network and probably never will. So all that to say, the purpose of this post is not to satisfy others' curiosity but to tell a story of a powerful God who does not let us down. 




So here is “my story.” Without going into a lot of unnecessary, painful details because it's not important, my family went through a traumatic experience when I was one-and-a-half years old. It lasted for about two-and-a-half years, finally ending (though as many people know, a trauma never truly ends but often just begins) when I was four. It affected all four members of our family differently. Because it was so painful, everyone retreated into themselves and dealt with it on their own. There wasn’t much reaching out to each other or talking about it; everyone went on with their lives as if it never happened. The problem was that because of my age I had not yet developed coping skills; I had no ability to self-cope, and from that sprung a mostly life-long, unexplained depression.



The most fragile time period in life for a trauma to occur is between the ages of six months and three years. This is the time when we develop our worldview. Our worldview is the paradigm through which we will live the rest of our lives. It involves how we see ourselves and how we view the world. Do we view the world and others as safe and kind or as dangerous and hostile? Do we view ourselves as competent and good or as incompetent and bad? Once developed and reinforced, extreme worldviews are quite difficult to change; many would argue impossible. Because they are so ingrained in you, you cannot reach down and turn switches off and on, not even through your most sincere efforts. Children who go through intense, consistent early trauma or abuse find that they live their lives with a distorted worldview leading to a host of problems. When trauma happens at an older age, even at age five, there is already some resiliency built in. People are complex, and trauma affects each child different. No one knows exactly why some children bounce back better than others. There are some major mitigating factors such as how intense and long the trauma is, how many areas of your life it affects, whether it affects the relationship between one or both major caregivers, and whether there was a buffer relationship built in. Psychology would say I had few mitigating factors on my side, despite growing up in a stable family environment from that point on. My doctor also strongly believed I had a biological predisposition to depression based on family history, and because it was triggered at such a young age, my "brain circuits" became wired so that this was my "normal."




All of my childhood that I can remember, as early as I have memories, consists of memories of depression. Of oppression, sadness, and inner turmoil. Despite my loving, caring family and secure life I lived in a regular state of unexplained sadness (i.e. I could not identify why I was sad). It was buffered with happy moments and intermittent good times, but the sadness never left. It was an unwanted shadow following me around wherever I went. I could pretend it wasn’t there but it always was, and it always affected me; I had no knowledge of life without it. It took away from what should have been the happy times and it further darkened the hard times. I was labeled as a sensitive child, very sensitive, though most of that was simply a product of the heaviness people didn’t know about. I could describe memories from when I was five, six, seven, and so on during this darkness but there is really no point. It was there.


When I look back on my early childhood, I know in my head there were lots of good times and happy memories. I had so much to be thankful for. Yet the pain and sadness was so great that it clouds over all those good memories; swallowing them up and leaving me with mostly tangible memories of turmoil. I couldn’t describe to you many happy memories even if I tried, though I know there were plenty of them; I have a hard time recollecting them. I don’t like to look back very much. I prefer to look ahead.



When I was 15 and things were only getting worse, I came across a checklist of symptoms of depression. It then clicked. Prior to this I had never known anything other than depression, so I thought it was normal. I told my mom and showed her all my ‘checks’ on that piece of paper. She immediately took me to see a psychiatrist, and he diagnosed me with dysthymia which wasn't a particularly hopeful diagnosis, one with a much worse prognosis than regular depression due to its chronic nature. There’s not much to say about my feelings regarding this information. I started taking some medication, switched to different ones when it did nothing, and saw a counselor as required. She told my mom I was a ‘resistant client.’ I can’t say she was particularly skilled. I was only fifteen and didn’t have any explanation for my turmoil. In her eyes that meant I was holding something back; she didn't realize my mind was truly blank. I think a child depressed from the age of four was a challenge for her.



I never stuck with medication or counseling. It did nothing, and at the time I wasn’t interested in relying on those things anyway. What was the point? I had gotten that far; I could get by on my own. I resolved to try as best I could and hopefully down the road the pain would lift. I lived for that. But I can’t say I always believed it would ever come. At the time I related a lot to Sylvia Plath; when I read “The Bell Jar” I felt like I was reading about myself. Except it wasn’t a very hopeful book. She ended up committing suicide at age 30, after she finished the book! I can’t say with certainty that wouldn’t have happened to me down the road if my life hadn’t taken a major turn, but I don’t think it would have. Hundreds of times I desperately wanted to escape the pain as it was too much to bear, and I thought about it often. However,something always kept me far enough from it to where it was never a imminent threat. I think part of it was that I lacked courage and a part of it was the presence of people who loved me and had expectations of me. I also think a large part of it was a supernatural grace- as if my spirit knew that a change lay somewhere in the future.



Life continued despite its pain. I don’t think my friends or family ever suspected much. I hid it pretty well and appeared to have it somewhat together. I graduated third in my class, was homecoming queen, and had the lead role in our ballet; not exactly the profile of a depressed person. I poured most of the energy I did have into these distractions. Thankfully they were healthy distractions instead of destructive ones. I owe that one to my family and upbringing. Despite all those daily efforts and successes, many nights I collapsed exhausted on my bed and cried myself to sleep.



Eventually I went to college. That is where my life started to take a turn. When I came to the University of Georgia, I knew nothing about a loving God or saving Grace. I thought religion was interesting but silly. I viewed it primarily as a cultural thing (I grew up Catholic), and a primitive way that man chose to relieve his suffering and find meaning in life. I wasn’t about to be a fool just to find meaning in my life. Plus, if you are deceiving yourself into a meaningful life, then it’s not really meaningful after all, is it? It was during my freshmen year when a fellow dance team member invited me to a campus ministry service that my eyes were first opened to the love and power of God.


Someone in my life at the time was a real, true example of a God-centered person so much so that I sensed something supernatural was driving his life; there was no other explanation for it. Yet my intellect had a hard time reconciling so many things I didn't feel comfortable with about Christianity. After months of being immersed in a true, loving, Christian environment, I had my Saul moment. I remember sitting on the bedroom floor at this person's house, having just read More than a Carpenter by Josh McDowell. It's this little book that goes through the logical progression of coming to terms with what you believe about Jesus's existence in history; how you have to believe that he is either the Son of God, a liar, or a lunatic. This was all well and good, but it was the last chapter that really impacted me. He talked about his father who was a long-time alcoholic and found no relief through anything offered in this world. It was only until he gave himself over to God that freedom and transformation entered his life. A simple truth, yet one that hadn't hit me at the appropriate time. All of a sudden, I got it. I needed God; I couldn't live without him. What did I have to lose? I had tried for 19 years and much of that was filled with darkness. I had no options left. The world had nothing to offer me except a grim diagnosis. I needed something that wasn't found in this world. That was the most important day in my life and since that time, I am amazed at the joy and love God has infused into my life. He saved me, not only from an eternity apart from him, but from my own demise. Without a doubt, he is not only my saving grace but my hero.



There was a distinct moment in my walk with God when my oppression lifted. I will never forget it. There was no earthly explanation for it; God simply reached down and lifted me up, but it did require me to step outside myself and receive it. It was an incredible experience of his power.


I wish I could say that from that point on the past 19 years of a warped worldview lifted and I skipped happily through life, but that’s not the case. Despite experiencing freedom, there were still plenty of cognitive and behavioral patterns that were just as ingrained in me as they were before. I had to consciously choose to walk in the ‘new’ me and not the old me. The difference this time was that I had a choice: a better option. I wasn't so far under oppression that I couldn't act. It’s like one of Jesus’ many parables: When you have new wine, you have to find a new wineskin to keep it in. It’s not going to happen on its own. If you leave your new wine in an old wineskin, it’s not going to work. I used to wonder why God didn't just fix everything all at once. Now I don’t expect him to reach down and turn my worldview upside down or bring it to completely back to normal. After 29 years, I suspect that will not happen, and I think it will always be a part of me. But I’m okay with it, because it's not the part of me. It’s been a long process of learning to walk in my new self each day. But as time went on from that initial day of freedom, and over the last nine years, my life has done a 180. I no longer live in darkness; I live in light. I no longer live in unexplained sorrow; I live in hope. And while there are certainly still struggles and hard days and times where I want to allow melancholy to take over, they do not overtake my life; God does.


This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. 1 John1:5



There are three major ways that my worldview and past wounds still affect me today and are the source of my biggest weaknesses. One is that I become overwhelmed easily (think food allergies: ugh!) and have a tendency to turn off when I get overloaded, though that happens less and less often as I get older. Thankfully, Ben knows my limits are lower than some and he helps shoulder the load and gives me breaks because he knows I need them. The second is that I sometimes have trouble entering into the moment; it doesn’t come naturally to me. I suspect that during that fragile time I learned that I didn't have the coping skills I needed to live in the present circumstances and so I detached myself from it- sometimes it feels like I'm watching what's going on around me rather than being a part of it.  This used to happen every day but now it only happens every so often. Lastly and by far the most challenging aspect is that my first instinct is to dwell on the negative and be pessimistic. Yes, my impulse is to view a situation through a lens that says “Life is to hard to overcome. It cannot be trusted. It will always be full of pain; you don’t stand a chance.” Perhaps this comes out in my posts sometimes. But even though it is a constant challenge, most of the time I choose not to give in to those messages, or at least not to give in to it for longer than a short period of time. It might take every ounce of energy I have but it’s always worth it. A life lived in bitterness is no life at all. Jesus tells us to take hold of the life that is truly life. So yes, these are weaknesses that I have, but they don’t run my life anymore. I experience them but most of the time I put them in their place, not the opposite.



Some random thoughts:


Being a mother has brought a special sort of healing. It has given me the opportunity to associate childhood with joy rather than sorrow. To see Anna and Kimberly learn that they are safe and that the world is trustworthy and full of joy has healed a part of my life that I have always wanted back. There are rare moments when I look at Anna and my mind flashes back to what it must have been like for me to lose both parents' presence in my life at this tender age, and I feel sick to my stomach. I want to grieve for that little girl who never understood why her loss was so great. But I have learned to let that go and instead choose to dwell on the opportunity to give my children something I never had.



There used to be a lot of times when I looked at someone who hadn't gone through a trauma in their past, someone who had an easy, optimistic outlook towards life and received endless accolades for always seeing the 'bright side of things,' and I felt discouraged. Why is it so easy for them to be positive but it takes every effort I have not to be negative even for a little while? I thought. Why did it always have to be so hard and exhausting when it was effortless for other people?  Now I view things differently. I view myself as blessed to have the opportunity to overcome because God has promised a greater reward in eternity for those who have persevered in the face of significant trial. He has also revealed a part of himself that you can only know if you have gone through suffering.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for they will inherit the earth. Matthew 5
Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him. James 1:12
And even though I may never be labeled as that person who always focuses on the silver lining, God knows each and every time I put every ounce of effort I have into being optimistic… he sees it, he knows, and he’s proud, even if no one is privy to the outward result.



More random thoughts:

The only thing more healing than having a spouse and friends who know your story, your true story, and love and accept you despite it, is having a God who knows your story even more so and loves and accepts you.


I always think it’s funny when people say counselors have all had their own 'issues.'  I would agree that the majority of people go into counseling because they have been through a pretty dark time in their life. They know what it is like to be there and come out the other side and they feel so strongly about that that they have to help others do the same. You don’t have to have everything together to be a great counselor; quite the opposite. The great counselors I know have been the ones who have gone through darkness and found light. It is very difficult to find the empathy you need to help someone overcome a dark struggle if you have not been in a similar place at some point in your life. You will be most likely feel sympathy and/or pity and a sense of superiority, which isn’t very helpful to others. At least, that’s been my personal experience.



So that is My Story. Or really, God’s story. Congratulations if you’ve made it all the way to the end of the world’s longest blog post. If you are in the midst of a similar story, I encourage you to rewrite it. Or rather, let God rewrite it. It doesn’t matter if it’s lasted 6 months or 19 years.


He just might surprise you.

Four Years

Four years ago Ben and I left for India. Newly married and having just suffered a miscarriage, we felt God pulling us to a strange land that neither one of us had ever felt particularly drawn to. The logistics worked out perfectly and before we knew it we had left everything behind: our possessions, family, and security. Ben gave up his position at PA school and, upon leaving, we had no back up plan for what was next. We had nothing except each other and a few thousand dollars we had saved. We didn't do a bunch of fundraising, soliciting, or planning. We simply packed up and left. It seemed too simple yet simple made sense to us. We yearned to get away from it all and live with one focus: on the Lord Jesus and spreading his message. We trusted that God would provide for our needs if we sought to honor him. We lived at a children's home and spent a little time travelling to various remote villages to share the Good News. There were some really good times and some really bad times. We became deeply wounded through a relationship and when it was time to return home, we were broken and beaten down.


The next step was unknown to us. As we returned home, our home church at the time was looking for a couple to live on site at their base in the Amazon jungle of Peru. Ben had been on one trip there, serving as a translator for the leaders, as well as other similar trips when he was younger. The Amazon jungle and jungle towns had always been a place of 'home' to Ben, as silly as that sounds. Ever since I met him, his eyes would get starry when he talked about his past trips there. The feeling of home. That in some strange way a part of him belonged there. That part of him came alive when he was with those people. If I had to guess at which country we would've end up in I would have guessed Peru, not India. It made a lot more sense.


So when these people we dearly loved and respected extended the offer to us to be their on-staff missionaries, living with the indigenous people and being financially supported by our church family, it sounded like it was meant to be. In theory. However, when we met to talk about it and were patient and listened, we did not feel a calling to go there. We felt the opposite. I can't say I was too disappointed, because the idea of living without electricity and a boat ride from civilization was a lot for me to take in (although I'd had my fair share of 'roughing it' experiences in foreign countries, this was to the extreme). But I had already submitted my fears to God and was not about to let that be an obstacle. It didn't matter anyway, as it became clear to us that the work to be done in the Amazon was not going to be done by us.


Every part of us expected to stay abroad and to not come back. To get out of the rat race forever. The idea of staying here was almost as scary to us as leaving. But somehow we ended up back here, and the door to PA school once again opened, easier than it had the first time. As we've tried to wait patiently on God's voice for each major decision, somehow we've ended up in a home. With a regular job. With two kids. A lot like the typical American family, actually. We used to be so afraid that we would end up living a life imploded upon our little family with ourselves at the center (which I pray that it never is). At times I feel confused about where we are, which isn't necessarily a bad thing!


God really does work in mysterious ways. I don't know exactly what I've learned from this little journey of ours. I think one big thing I have learned is that other peoples' perceptions of your life matter very little in the grand scheme of things. That's one of the major themes God has taught me through all of this, and continues to teach me. You can live your whole life a slave to what people think about you- in a materialistic, worldy sense but sometimes even moreso in a spiritual, "Godly" sense. It goes both ways. And it goes for big things as well as little things. I know women who are insecure about their messy homes, and I know a woman who is insecure about her clean home because people imply it's a sign that children, or God himself, must be neglected. It goes for so many things. Disciplining your children too much, not enough, or not the "Godly way", having lots vs. few children, the type of schooling you choose, the type of food you feed your family, the amount of the body that one's clothing covers, the type of church you go to, even your type of worship style. The thing is... you cannot judge someone based on what you see. Only God has the authority to judge because only he knows the depths of our hearts. His is the only judgment that matters... Romans 14 and 1Corinthians4 have been my teacher lately. I digress. I don't even know what I'm writing about... what was the topic of this, the future? Yes, the future based on the last four crazy years. Lessons learned.


The only sure thing I know about our family's future is that I don't know what it holds. I don't know what tomorrow holds. I don't know where God will take us. But I hope that we will always, always be ready. For anything. Jesus told us to be expectant. To be ready. To be awake, not asleep. To not become too comfortable here. That this land is not our own. That our time here is limited. To be ready to fight the good fight and to love whether that be here amidst a broken, suffering world or in another country amidst a broken, suffering world, until the Story is finished. That's what I keep my eyes on: the end of the story. That's what really matters.

Give me strength

 

I've found myself repeating that a lot lately. To my inner soul.

 

Give me strength.

 

Despite the good news of late, there has been a rise in the waters around me.

 

New issues with Anna's leg.

No walking for now. No leg for now.

Heartbroken for my little girl who doesn't understand.

Long trips to Shriners on the horizon.

Mumblings of another surgery.

Fear.

New baby still coming quickly. Not slowing down.

Anxiety.

New job starting.

Anxiety.

Moving.

Trips to Atlanta for doctors appointments.

Allergies.

Exhaustion.

 

I can't do it. I can't do it. I'm going to break.

 

Give me strength.

 

I want to ask the questions: Why? Why can't Anna get a break? Why can't we get a break? I want to cry. I do cry. I want to give up.

 

But I can do it. It's worth it.

 

Give me strength, God. Help me. Breathe.

 

 

 

25 weeks. Baby is growing.

 

 A few things that made laugh today. And I really needed a laugh:

 

I'm Not Into Vintage from Love, Matt and Kara. While I do go to thrift stores and am not a brand namer, I could relate to just about everything else she said. I totally appreciate vintage-ness in others, but I've tried to make it work for me and it just doesn't. In terms of home and personal style, I've decided that 'Classic' fits me best.

 

Posted from Erica's blog, which chronicles her experience with infertility (anyone going through a debilitating illness, disability, etc might get a chuckle out of this):

 

 

Happy Tuesday everyone!