Remember when I went to Blue Ridge and so many crazy awesome writing-editing connection things happened? And how I drank lots of sweet tea?
Sweet Tea at Blue Ridge
And remember how, before I went, I was big on collecting pennies and coins in my jar?
My Penny Jar
And you know how I have a writer’s mind so I link cause-and-effect like other people don’t? Well . . .
Say hello to my new “jar”.
Sweet Savings
Every time I drop a coin or bill into my Sweet Savings bottle, it’s a reminder of what I’m striving for. And the fact that it’s a much bigger container than the little jar is an indicator of just how big my dreams are.
But wait . . . there’s more.
I’d not found pennies on the sidewalk for quite a while. At least a month. And y’all know how I feel about pennies, right? They’re the essential building block for life.
The Penny Parable, available at Amazon
So I’m starting to feel a little let down, you know? A little ignored by God. Oh, stop! You say. Not finding a penny does not equate being abandoned by God. I know that.
Don’t you think I know that?
And yet . . . as I’m sipping my sweet tea, and missing my Blue Ridge peeps, and wondering why I’m not finding pennies, God creeps into my psyche. You know how He does. That still, small voice that hijacks your thought process and turns you on your heels because you secretly asked Him to even though you’re not sure want to admit it.
So the prayer-conversation went something like this:
ME: Go away.
GOD: Is that really what you want?
ME: Yes. Maybe. No. I don’t know. I’m mad at you. Go away so it’s easier for me to be mad at you.
GOD: Why are you mad at me?
ME: Because I miss my people. And I have unfulfilled dreams. And you haven’t given me teddy bears or pennies for a really long time. I miss that.
GOD: You know why I used to give you teddy bears and pennies?
ME: Because you loved me. And you know I collect teddy bears and pennies. They used to call me the ‘Teddy Bear Rescue Mission’ because I’d find so many abandoned teddy bears on the roadside. I’d take them home and fix them up. And I still have them. And the pennies state right there ‘In God We Trust’. And when I needed to remember to trust You, You’d give me a penny. Or more. And You haven’t lately. Nothing. At all.
GOD: I don’t give you pennies as often because you already know to trust me. You still trust me. You don’t need the reminder.
ME: I know. But it’s still nice to be told You’re thinking of me.
GOD: I’m always thinking of you. And I don’t give you teddy bears any more because you don’t need them. The bears I used to give you were for comfort and security. You’re growing up nicely and don’t need that any more.
ME: I know, but . . .
GOD: But you still want them. I understand. And when you appreciate those gifts as gifts I’ll let you find them again. But right now, you want them for the wrong reasons. Right now, you want them so you don’t feel alone.
ME: Yes.
GOD: But you’re not alone. And you know that.
ME: Yes.
GOD: I have something better for you to collect: People.
ME: People?
GOD: People. Every person you know is worth treasuring. Some are more valuable than others, and some are older than others. But every one is a treasure.
ME: I’m a people-collector?
GOD: Yes.
ME: So you’re telling me I don’t need pennies or teddy bears, but I do need people. And these coins are symbolic of the people in my life. Past, present, and future. The people I interact with are important. They are my fun, my security, my soft hugs, my reprimands, my world.
GOD: Yes.
ME: You know, when you put it that way, my treasures far outweigh what’s contained in this bottle. There’s family, writers, church, the day job, Facebook peeps, supporters.
GOD: I know.
[Insert seriously long pause as I contemplate the need to recognize the value in others, and the necessity of showing others how valuable they are to me.]
ME: Hey, God?
GOD: Yes, Child?
ME: Will you be my first penny?
GOD: I thought you’d never ask.
For Nathan and Pam and Naomi and Lori and Cindy and all my Marys and Beckies and everyone I’ve been talking to. I hope you know how each of you has helped me. I hope I’ve been able to return that help.
God – December 8, 2014
A few days ago, I posted a lengthy status on my personal Facebook page. Since then, people have commented, sent messages, and shared.
It’s no secret where I stand in my faith. I’m not a Bible thumper. I’m not perfect. In fact, I revel in my imperfectness. I’m just glad there’s a God who loves me the way I am, and who continues to help me be a better person for the world around me.
“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 weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”
~2 Corinthians 12:7b-9, NIV
Let’s face it. Life is hard. It’s hard when you know God. It’s hard when you don’t know God. This post isn’t about God. It’s about Christians and the disservice we do to one another in our own community by expecting only the Pretties to be seen, by submerging the imperfections, the thorns, the scars.
If we as Christians portray only a perfect example of God, how can draw people closer to Him? If we tell seekers “It’s okay that you’re broken” then why do we expect completeness of ourselves?
The Christian Community can send out false messages. Not intentionally, mind you. I believe our desire is to attract others to Christ, and we feel we can’t do that if we’re shattered or chipped.
I disagree.
We are all damaged. One way or another, we are all broken.
I’m okay with that.
“Stop forcing a catastrophe where there’s not even a storm.”
Because God is the True Healer. He can, has, and will continue to heal my brokenness whether it is caused by others or myself. Whether my brokenness is physical, spiritual, emotional, mental, financial, or any-other-al, He continues to seek me out and heal me.
The healing may not come in the way I want, or as fast as I think I need. But His timing is perfect. And I’m okay with waiting on Him.
Cuz Father knows best.
The following is the Facebook post from a few days ago. I hope it starts a dialogue of honesty and openness. I hope everyone has a friend who accepts them unconditionally. And if you want to know more about my God, I hope you ask.
Please read, comment, share. And watch the video at the end.
Life is hard. But God is always good.
I promise.
You Matter.
~#~
June 7, 2015
So an interesting thing happened. Late last night I posted a status (now removed) of how it’s okay that I’m angry with God. I received some comments and messages that others are praying for me, that others understand, and a few that cautioned me about being so public about it.
Here’s the thing, and I’m not upset, just puzzled . . . but here’s the thing.
Not one person asked WHY. Not one person asked, “How can I help?”
And it saddens me. Not because I need attention (although we all do, right?). Not because I feel alone (I mostly don’t). But because the impression or attitude seems to imply that as a Christian I’m not allowed to have bad days, that I should share only joy and keep the rest to myself.
And it makes me wonder, if the people I know are Christian (myself included), if we are sending out these vibes that it’s not okay to be NOT okay, how are we being authentic? How are we letting others know we’re there for them?
Do we as Christians stifle the outreach and community of those who need us? Is it possible by saying “This isn’t the time or place” that what they hear is “You’re not worth my time or energy”?
I have a lot going on. So do you. So does everyone. I don’t air my “dirty laundry” for everyone. In fact, there is not one single person who knows everything. There are some who know most, some who get headlines without details, and some who get only one story or prayer request instead of the whole basket.
I’m not advocating spilling your entire life on Facebook or other public forum. I’m not agreeing with those people who are “virtue suckers” and complain just to get attention.
But do the people who need us know we’re here for them? Do they really know?
Or have we made it too hard for them to reach out? Have we made them fearful that we won’t reach back?
Or worse, do we assume because we already know them that we know what the current moment is about? Do we pray for them, consider them, reach out to them based on past experiences?
Or do we say “I’m still praying . . .” for whatever issue WE think needs prayer.
When was the last time you came up to a friend and said, “Tell me what’s really going on.”? And didn’t fill your head with presumptions of who you think they are and what you think they’re going through?
So many of us are really going through our own hell on earth, yet we’re expected to live daily as if we’re not. So many of us are so skewed by our own hells that we can’t see someone else’s is different. We can’t see that we’re sometimes hurting instead of helping.
So I apologize, here, publicly, to all my family and friends. I’m sorry that I’ve not reached out to see where you’re at or how I can help you. I’m sorry that I put myself first — my own thoughts and ideas of how life should be, of how you’re doing it wrong, of how you’re not there for me. I’m sorry for not being there for you in the capacity I should be.
I’m sorry.
But hear this: You’re important to me. In many different ways.
Our lives are silk webs that criss-cross and intertwine and pull others into and out of the design and I want to strengthen your thread.
I want to be here for you.
I’ve ignored you, I’m sorry. I’ve made you feel less important, I’m sorry. I’ve made my own hells more important than yours, and that is farce. Everyone’s hell is important. Everyone needs a helping hand to get out and rise above the crud that tries to buries us.
This is me. Being as authentic as I’m allowed to be.
I let you down, and I’m sorry.
I’m here for you now. All of you.
All I’m asking is that you be here for me, too.
And the rest of your people.
Make sure they know.
Jeremiah 29:11 When God Is In Your Corner, It’s Not A Punishment
Since coming back from Blue Ridge, I’ve thrown myself into the promise that God not only knows what He’s doing, but that He really, truly wants the best for me.
You’ve read often of how Jeremiah 29:11 is my life verse; what it means to me, and how I try to apply it to my daily life.
We don’t have to turn away from what God has for us. Too often, I find myself disbelieving that I’m worthy of all the greatness He wants to bestow on me. That’s farce! That’s a trick of the enemy to get inside my head and rob me of the good things God has planned.
This weekend, I’m offering this short and easy to read booklet for free. Just click on the photo or the link above to get your own copy. I pray that it blesses you as much as it continues to bless me.
I’m just sitting here and this sudden, invasive thought came to me:
The Complicated and I looked so good together on paper. He was everything I thought I wanted, except for one big “check” on “the list”.
But once I got to the depths of who we were together, for each other, I knew it wouldn’t work and I broke it off. I know I broke his heart and for that I’m sorry. But I also know staying with him would have destroyed me completely. I know he now hates me and thinks I led him on or used him.
But I also know that being single, and alone, and being the Right Person for ME, is better than being the Wrong Person for someone else. He may hate me now, but I would have hated me then.
And a tag-along thought is, I don’t. I don’t hate him. And I don’t hate me. In fact, I’m darn well pleased with who I’ve become. And how I didn’t compromise myself out of loneliness.
Last summer taught me a lot about just being. Yes, I still have moments that I wish I had someone to really talk to. Someone to hold me after a long day. Someone to appreciate my successes with me. Someone to call and say, “Let’s hang out” or “Let’s watch a movie” or just “Come over and have coffee”. I want someone to go on dates with, a reason to get dressed up and keep the house clean and wash the car and have a drink with and cook for and just anticipate his smile and his voice.
I spent six months on eHarmony after The Complicated, and all I learned is to NOT make a detailed list of expectations of who he should be.
Those things I thought I wanted in a man? The Complicated was most of them. And it didn’t work out. eHarmony “matched” me with guys who “fit the bill”. And they didn’t work out.
So I’m done with the list of expectations. You know what? I’m just going to enjoy life each day at a time.
I have discovered, that I am loved by a treasure trove of people. I just had to open myself up to them. My loneliness didn’t stem from not being in a relationship. It stemmed from me keeping myself hidden from the world.
I believe, as hard as it was to say “no” to The Complicated, that it was the best thing to do. So I could rediscover myself, and find out not what I want in a relationship, but what I have to offer the world at large.
I do still want to share my life with that one person I can trust with absolutely everything. But until he comes along (and I have faith he will!), I’m no longer keeping a list. And I’m no longer keeping myself hidden.
Years ago, I woke with this sort of mantra running through my head. I’d forgotten it, forgotten to pay attention to it.
“I am worthy
Of being loved
By the One
Who is worthy
Of being loved
By me.”
I don’t know what brings it to mind now.
I was just sitting at the computer playing Trivia Crack and this entire episode hit me like a refreshing, warm wave on the beach in summer.
Time to dip my toes in a little deeper, and trust that I know how to swim.
Funny the things you realize in a moment. . .
Don’t Leave. Period. My mantra to myself. No matter who else is involved, I mustn’t lose myself.
Moses answered the people, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
~Exodus 14:13-14 (NIV)
I suffer from depression. This isn’t something I used to talk about. It’s nothing I’m ashamed of, because I’m still here. But it’s definitely something misunderstood. And most people are afraid and embarrassed about it, whether it’s happened to them or someone they love.
I’m still here. Which means I’m strong enough to get through that one-more-moment that I needed to get through. But what about the next time? Will I be strong enough then?
Being strong hurts. It hurts not having someone else to lean on, to help pick up the pieces of a fractured heart, or scream happiness with. It hurts to be the one, and not have the one.
Do you ever think about the percentage of creative people who deal with depression and other “disorders”? I believe it’s because we feel things much deeper than average people. Artists of any media are particularly susceptible to opening ourselves up to a life that wounds us to the core. Feeling terrible is better than not feeling at all, and feeling it at such a depth makes the creativity that much more powerful.
When I’m affected by the chasms and peaks of life, I see it more broadly than I can express, except through emotion. I find beauty in hurts and puzzles in rays of sunshine.
I feel more deeply and am more confused by the beauties of this life than I can ever begin to explain. I don’t search for the darkness, but neither am I always afraid of it.
I’ve struggled through some horrendous moments and I’m lucky to be alive. I don’t share the details of my story with a lot of people, because I never know how they’ll react.
There’s a certain vulnerability with letting someone have the keys to your destruction, and trusting them enough to not use it against you.
That’s not my saying. I stole that gem of wisdom from my writing mentor.
In the context of a good book, the characters need to be flawed and need to struggle with each other. In the context of life, it’s a lot more complicated, and a lot more unsettling, and doesn’t always wrap up neatly.
Mostly, life is good and I’m okay. But now and then, something, or a collection of somethings, will trigger that stress in me and try as I might, I can’t always “put on a happy face”.
Depression has its own set of rules that unless you’ve been there, you can’t possibly navigate. Well-meaning people have tried to control or change me. They don’t realize it’s not as simple as that.
I’m not discounting the benefits of avoiding triggers and trying to make things better. But depression is an internal event.
Here are just a few gems from people who haven’t been there:
“If you just stopped thinking about it, you’d be happier.”
“Get some rest. Things will be better in the morning.”
“Have you tried vitamins?”
“Doctors don’t know everything. You should see someone else.”
“Medications only make it worse.”
“You need a change of scenery. Why don’t you get out for the day or take a weekend vacation?”
And what I find to be the most hurtful: “You just don’t have enough faith.”
There’s also the struggle to identify a cause. Many times, my depression is provoked by something nameless. It’s a constant presence, in the shadowy corners, just waiting to be recognized. It’s its own thing, caused by nothing and solved by nothing else.
The best a person with depression can sometimes hope for is just to breathe through the moment.
I say again, I’m lucky. Through years of hard work, self observance, and a decent group of friends to support me, I’ve learned to identify my triggers and my solutions.
I’ve learned to monitor my body. If I’m not eating healthy enough or sleeping enough, that can make my thoughts a little less clear. Which makes it hard to filter out the negative thoughts.
I know the difference between having a glass of wine with dinner, and going out to a bar so I don’t have to stay home alone. Self-medicating isn’t just about medicines. It can also be food, TV, thought patterns . . . whatever a person uses to feel better.
I’ve learned that the most important thing I can do is reach out. It’s also the hardest. My depression embarrasses me. I’m a typically joyful, outgoing person. I love nothing more than to be surrounded by people whether it’s church, fellow writers, or even my favorite clients from the day job.
I also don’t like to bring other people down. I don’t want to explain myself or disappoint my friends. I don’t want to hear someone’s outside opinion of what I’m doing wrong. So I keep to myself. Or I hide it behind the fake smiles and the hugs and the I’m-Doing-Fine’s.
And I keep hiding. Until it’s bigger than I can handle. Until something’s gotta give.
“Stop forcing a catastrophe where there’s not even a storm.”
I’m lucky to have friends who have known me long enough to realize my triggers before I sometimes do. Friends who can talk me down from the ledge when I didn’t know I’d even stepped out. And I’m lucky those friends were there for me this weekend.
I wasn’t in physical danger, but I was certainly not in a good place. What I thought was just fatigue and anxiety had combined with, as they pointed out, the exorbitant amount of stress from the last few months until I stopped fighting the triggers. I began barking at people with an unfiltered vocabulary. I broke promises. I was ready to fight almost everyone in my path. And I didn’t care.
Depression can garble thoughts. What I think is right in the moment, isn’t. Who I think is against me, isn’t. But I can’t recognize what’s right, or I don’t want to admit the embarrassment of misunderstanding. Even if it’s fleeting. Even if it’s undeserved. Apologizing for being irrational is a painful and humiliating experience. So I don’t.
I just can’t seem to get this life-thing right. So the depression grows. And I keep it to myself.
My depression comes with its own trust issues. It’s hard to know who to talk to, who to tell what to, and who to listen to. Do they really understand me? Do they have my best interests at heart? Or do they want to “help” me to feel superior about themselves? They’ve not been here, they’ve not had these thoughts. How can they possibly understand.
I tried to read my Bible for that whisper of hope and direction. I just heard the words “Be still.” Which I couldn’t do. I mean, I’m depressed, right? Which means I’m anxious. My legs are bouncing while I’m sitting. Or I’m up, pacing the floor. Or sitting on the bench practicing my steady breathing and hoping not to hyperventilate.
If one more person asks how I’m doing then keeps walking instead of waiting for a real answer, I’m gonna lose it.
I didn’t want to lose it. I had to find a way to fight this. I had to find a way to get back to being me. But I’m afraid to talk to anyone because this is different than who I was ten or twenty years ago. They won’t see that. They’ll just see this and think same ol’ same ol’.
And then I found it. Exodus 14:13-14. Moses answered the people, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
Just as God led Moses to the Red Sea, He led me to my shore. He parted the stormy waters so that whatever was threatening them in their future vanished, and He promised that what was troubling them in their past would remain in their past. He didn’t promise them a perfect tomorrow. He just promised them a way out for now.
Stop. Take a breath. You asked for my help, and I’m here. Now. In this moment.
And in that moment, with my trusted friends, I was able to securely reach out and know, it’s gonna be okay. They’re not judging me based on past moments. They’re not judging me at all.
They’re just reaching back.
December 8, 2014
My depression is something I will always have to live with. Most of the times, it’s dormant, hidden, controlled. When it isn’t, I have to learn it’s okay to stop fighting myself and others. I don’t always have to keep this a secret.
And I don’t have to be ashamed.
This weekend I realized I have too much to say. I’ve been quiet for too long. It’s time to be authentic and reach out, so others can reach back.
Tonight I feel just a little less lonely. And I think I’m gonna sleep better than I have for a while.
