I Wish Life Had Easy Answers....

...If it did, then it is very likely that I would not be sitting here in front of my computer screen on a Saturday night, eyes wrung dry from crying for the last week, body simply worn through from lack of sleep and emotions numb.

But, as we all know, life does not have easy answers. And if it did, Im not sure we would be better off. Would we learn anything? Gain anything? Be any better off? Would I be the person I am today if life had given me all that I had ever asked for or dreamed of?

Though I know the answer is NOT A CHANCE, it still doesnt make the events of this last week any easier to cope with. Knowing that its the tough times that refine us and give us a chance to better reflect the God of Glory within us, certainly does not make it any less painful to endure them.

For the sake of privacy of those who are part of my pain, I cannot actually give detail to the events of this last week and the struggles I've had to face.  I dont want to point a finger at anyone, or make reference to the choices made for good or bad. Besides, the last thing I want to do is to make this a comparison game where you listen to my sad story, and then tell me yours and we swap tears back and forth. That wont really get us anywhere in the end anyway.

But, as I've shut a lot of people out this past week, and have also leaned heavily on others, I do want to at least share my pain with you. I find comfort in words. In processing out loud, on paper, and pulling back the covers on the despair that seeks to swallow me if I dare stay silent. The Bible says that we are Overcomers by the Blood of the Lamb (Jesus) and the Word of our Testimony (the story of my pain).

So, in order that I might strive to overcome, and in order that you might one day, tomorrow or years from now, glean hope and strength and companionship from my own struggles, I offer you a view behind the scenes.

In the last couple of weeks I've been in Ottawa on "vacation" visiting friends and catching up with some special people. I have in the past been cautioned about my vulnerability to stretch myself too thin, but I do not know how to manage that well. People are my passion. Every person I know holds value and worth to me. I want to be able to pour into everyone as much as I can. I tend to hold this mindset that if I dont do all I can do for everyone, I will somehow fail .

"Fail who? Fail what?" As if God has this ridiculous expectation on me to do His job.  That is, loving the whole world.

But I am still often bound by this audacious self imposed expectation. I want people to see the love of Christ through me and have them know that they are so very very important. They are worth His very life!

Yet, then, as is the human tendency when we try to play god ourselves, I get tired. I get irritable, and cranky. I become short with people and less kind in my responses. I grow weak and tend to miss opportunities, or I get so worn out that the only choice I have is to let people down by cancelling. I feel I fail at showing people that I love and care for them because I havent taken care of myself first. Thats when I start to see that this "messiah complex" is not really helping anyone. Im not god - and thank goodness Im not.

In the last week, Ive been thrown several curve balls. Not just one or two, but three, four, five; one after the other. There seems to be no end. And in the midst of trying to balance my visits and seeing people and pouring into them,  I find that Im weary and broken. I cant hold it together anymore. An honest confession: if I couldve hid in bed all this week, I wouldve. I just didnt want to deal with my own life; with the cards Id been dealt. They arent the cards I want. "Hey God, can we do a re-deal?"

His answer.... another curve ball, again, this morning!

And that is where I am this evening. Looking at the cards in my hand, replaying the curve balls thrown to me throughout the week past. And Ive thought a lot about Robin Williams too. And Ive wondered about the darkness he mustve faced in order for him to take his own life. When I first heard the news, I was heartbroken. Didn't anyone tell him about Jesus?

Because Jesus can heal anyone.

Jesus can heal any broken situation, any broken dream, any broken heart.....

Hmmmm....Wait.One.Second. Do I really believe that?

Its interesting how Im so quick to preach that for someone elses struggle. I can look at anything anyone else is going through, and KNOW with assured certainty that Jesus CAN solve their hurt, pain, dilemma and crisis.
But, how am I letting Jesus infiltrate my darkness? How am I allowing Him to lift ME up out of the dirt, out of this muddy dreary place Ive fallen to? Have I chosen to let Jesus give me hope despite all Ive faced this week?

Friends, I might not be able to see each of you on this visit. Or on the next. Or, ever again. I might not be able to drive home to Nova Scotia in your dark moment and give you the hug I long to give. I might not be able to fly myself across the world to give you the courage to face the accusations against you. I might not be able to restore the thing that mattered most to me.
Life restricts me from being who I want to be for you. I cant be your savior. And I realize youve never asked me to. But for some bizarre reason, I feel like Im suppose to solve all your problems, rather than point you to my Savior Himself.
I want to take away your pain, take away your struggle. I want to make life easier for you, because I know what it is to struggle through ugly messiness.

 How did I get to this place that Ive missed sight of pointing you to the Answer and have instead tried to be the answer?

I end this post by asking for your forgiveness. I want you to see Jesus in me, and find your Source in Him alone; not in me. I want you to turn to Him and call out to Him, and find Him sitting with you in your loneliness and in your ache. If I  could, I would be there with you. But I dont want to replace Him.
I know myself well enough to admit I cant do anything to help you. I can only offer you a listening ear, and point you to the very one, the only one, who can pull you up and put you on your feet again. Ive struggled all week to put this truth into practice. And I know that its true, or else I wouldnt be sitting here tonight able to promise you that He is for real. He can actually do all He says He can!

Earlier in the week when I was having a particularly lonely day, a friend of mine sent me something I wrote several months ago. You might have seen it on Facebook, because it was a huge encouragement for me. But regardless, I close by reaffirming what I once wrote when life was a whole lot less painful. The words are still true. And they still offer me hope and comfort. May they do the same for you:

       A wise young woman, who I admire greatly, once wrote, "...living alongside Christ is not always easy. There are days I want to scream at Him and if He were near enough, Id beat my fists on His chest. But I delight in knowing that not only will He continue to embrace me in these moments, I would never want to be anywhere else than in His arms."

Friends, when all is said and done, here is the last word: worship in reverence the one True God...(Ecc 12:13).

Bless you. 

Messy Community

I dont know about you, but sometimes when its been a long time since I've spoken to a friend, I tend to forget just how good of a friend they are. And then, one day, when we finally DO reconnect, I wonder why I ever allowed the time and the distance to keep us apart.

We all need community. We need friends. I truly believe we were created for fellowship and relationship and to be amongst people. Maybe not all  the time around people, but to live along side others and not keep them at arms length.

Coming back to Nova Scotia has caused me to see that more clearly than I ever really realized.
If you know me at all, you know I have friends all over the world. And true friends that I do my best to stay in touch with. But Nova Scotia has the highest concentration of close friends than any other place I've ever lived.  And as such, I feel I am already being drawn into the community.

Let me quickly clarify that when I talk of community, I dont actually mean a physical location; as we sometimes use the word interchangeably with neighborhood.  I mean a network of people that live life alongside one another; geography aside.
My parents have an incredibly network of people in Edmonton that I was raised in. A privilege if you ask me, because its now a third-generation community.  Its a major part of who I am, because I was brought up alongside so many other families. It takes a village to raise a child has a lot of merit for me.

However, this sort of community is not perfect. In fact, I have come to believe, that it actually finds strength in its imperfection. Its through the struggle to escape the cocoon that a butterfly completes its transformation. If the cocoon was not so difficult to break free from, a butterfly's body would not be properly formed and it would never be able to fly. The fluid that has amassed inside its stomach needs to be squeezed into its wings for healthy development. This happens as the butterfly fights to exit the narrow hole in the cocoon.
And so, I have begun to thank God for the fact that imperfect community is all part of the process to bring perfection in us. Though we cannot attain perfection this side of heaven, the Bible is clear that we are being refined - through our surrender to God and our fellowship with others - so that we may reflect the beauty of Christ all the more clearly.
Silver is refined over fire until it is clear enough to reflect the face of the Refiner.

Now, doesn't this sound so romantic and ideal? I mean I love the idea and concept of community. I love the idealism we can spout from our lips when we talk about what we want our community to look like.
But you know what? The image we have in our mind of living in community usually appeals only to the one who is dreaming, because we fashion community to our liking. We plan out direction and goals based on what we would want ourselves. The greater good is often secondary to my perceived good. And when community life infringes on what makes me comfortable, I start to find reason to withdraw. I make excuses why I can't show up to group events or to attend church consistently. I start to pull away from the whole and focus maybe only on the few people I actually get along well with. I allow myself to invest my life in theirs, because its safe and its comfortable.

All the while, I am a disproportioned butterfly wondering why I can't fly.

In the month since my last blog post, I've begun a journey to rediscover the fight through the cocoon.  Being back in Edmonton for my grandma's funeral at the start of March drew my attention to the importance of both family and community. Sometimes we're lucky enough to have both together in the same environment. I live too nomadic for that to happen, so instead, God has placed the opportunity for surrogate family in the places I've lived. My problem is Im not always that good at accepting what God offers and Im too eager for the grass on the other side of the fence. Often I miss the opportunity.

In any case, its becoming clear to me that I actually do thrive when I choose to be planted! Go figure ;-)

When I mentioned at the beginning about the friend that I hadn't done a good job keeping in touch with, I was referring to Jesus. I've actually done a fantastic job of keeping Him on the fringe of my life over the last few years and justified the behavior with petty excuses.

These last couple of weeks have not been easy. Its not smooth sailing by any means. But there's been something significantly different happening in my life as a result of my determination to stick with community. I've rediscovered my best friend, Jesus, and I can already see things shifting in my day to day life. There's a hope dawning. Not that I know what for, but the fact is,  each day I wake with some secretive anticipation for what the day will hold. There's joy returning to my step, and true deep laughter bubbling over. I can't remember how long its been since I've laughed this frequently. And I find myself truly deeply caring about others. Dont get me wrong, I've never been false in my compassion. That is NOT who I am. But I have definitely struggled for empathy that comes naturally. I have had to push myself to overcome my own selfish desires in order to give to others. And now, I find myself back in the swing of who I know I am: someone who longs to bless; who looks for the chance to offer herself to others. And the best part is, Im loving who I am being refined as.

Im loving that Im discovering the fight through the cocoon IS definitely, undeniably, assuredly a rewarding fight!
I close with these words of David Crowder from his song, "Neverending":

"Oh You make all the difference;

Yeah You change everything;
 You make our whole existence;
 Worth something, so we sing"

The Foggy Post

I have no appetite, which is a crazy symptom. I love food. I love cooking food. Sure, some days I dont want to cook at all, but for the most part, I will still make something simple. I will usually wake up thinking about what I feel like eating. But I dont feel like eating anything. There is nothing of interest, despite food in plenty, in the kitchen.

Yesterday was a horrible day. I'd say it was a 3. My mood was sullen. I didn't have any motivation, though I did get around to doing things in spurts. My back hurt severe.  Now, given that I have an ongoing back and hamstring problem, that doesn't surprise me. However, I could barely move, so I chose not to!

I kept analyzing myself all day, wondering if this would be a plague for the rest of my life. Wondering if any man would bother with me if I took these fits of darkness. Wondering how I was going to ever manage to be a mom on these sort of days. I compared it a lot to having a cold or the flu; remembering Lori managing twins while facing a migraine or something that just sucks the life out of you.

I didnt come to any sort of conclusion, or gain answers. There are hundreds of women who suffer from some form of depression that live in our world and they accomplish much. They dont just sit and wither. I want to be that woman. I recognize there will be difficult days and I guess the challenge is to just face them head on.

How can you explain to someone who doesnt know what its like to be fighting an internal battle. And though it doesnt really manifest itself in a physical sense, it feels like your inside is trying to destroy your outside.

I know its mostly in my head, but the attack feels physical. There is no particular place within where the pain comes from. Its just there, all over. Like its carried in my cells or in my blood or something. I cant properly explain it. All I know is that its debilitating.

I look back on life before I accepted the medication, and I see how bad at times it got. I remember the summer of 2008 and being in Edmonton working at Second Cup and house sitting for friends and trying to visit others. They were all worried about me, and I see it in myself now. I was a mess. I was a complete disaster. And I focused a lot on my circumstances: my job, my finances, my future. To me it was a huge spiritual battle because I felt like I was up against and unseen force of evil. Little did I realize that the evil was within me; slowly soaking my strength and stealing my sanity.

It took me three more years before I came to accept the need for medication. I just didnt understand and the stereotype of anti depressants was just so bad. I do remember trying meds in NS in Spring 2009, but they didnt seem to do much to help. But then I consider I was getting ready to transition back to Ottawa. My transient lifestyle is a great mask for what lurks deep inside me. I am an experience junkie, and the excitement of an upcoming change tends to keep the darkness at bay. Its not until I start to gain a proper and healthy routine that I notice there is something severely wrong within me.

Thats why it took me until mid January this year to recognize the symptoms had returned.

I went off my meds sometime in November, because a friend casually said to me one day, "Its time you get off your meds too..." Immediately the social stigma of being on anti depressants cowered me and I quit that day. I can do this I told myself,  Im strong enough now to fight through.
December is a full write off. Im pretty sure anyone can agree, for multiple reasons. Christmas in N.America is energy and time and money sapping. Weve completely destroyed the essence of the holiday and weve got ourselves entangled in some ridiculous unhealthy fanfare. We have parties to celebrate one another, and the end of another "successful" year, and yet we are all dragging our feet and covering the dark circles under our eyes because weve taken on way too much to properly enjoy any of it.

Right after Christmas, I went on a cleanse. My body doesnt respond well to processed food chuck full of preservatives. So, I started a cleanse of cabbage soup. It didnt take long for me to see that I was depleting my body of essential vitamins in the midst of this cleanse, and I was very irritable.

Proteins and carbs are a very important part of our daily living: everything in moderation.

So, by taking out both, I basically became impossible to live with - and thats me feeling impossible with myself. I was going out of my mind. But I pressed on - for health reasons (how does THAT make sense?). And after the cabbage soup cleanse came the juicing program, which also amplified the disaster taking place internally. I blamed it on the food for twelve days, until I didnt have the will power anymore.

Finally one day I just ate. I ate bacon and eggs for dinner Sunday night, because thats what my grandparents do. And the next morning I felt much better. Much more balanced and human. I didnt want to rip everyones head off!!!! I preached the importance of balanced diet, and thought all my problems were solved.

However, it was less than a week before I recognized that I still didnt have my head out of the gloomy cloud. I was still struggling. And it was then that I finally began to see that my symptoms of "depression" had returned. I needed my meds!

I hate the term "depression"

We have really done a disservice to our society by calling it that. Im not "sad" nor am I "unhappy or despairing about life"

Of COURSE there are things Id like to change, but when Im having a dark day, its not my circumstances I want to change. Its whats going on inside me that I need to change. Its like when you have the flu, or malaria, or when kids have chicken pox. Its painful, and all you want is for it to end. You know it should end soon, but in the moment, it just consumes. However, unlike the flu or chicken pox, this "depression" causes you to wonder if it will ever end. And the longer it goes unchecked, uncared for, the more you begin to consider all the other facets of life and slowly start to feel hopeless.

Im not hopeless. I have a million things to be thankful for. Some days I fight with God and wonder if He has forgotten me because another year has passed and this definitely isnt the life I would have chosen for myself. Or I am angry because people die, women remain barren, children starve on one side of the planet while others throw away the foods they dont like. BUT, in all of these moments and in all of my reality, I still have way more to be happy with and to enjoy and to love and to laugh about. Im not "depressed" as we traditionally associate the word.

I have a disease. Is that okay to call it that? I cant think of any other way to put it. Maybe I could call it a virus instead. But I have begun to see that its one that will be with me for the rest of my life - not something that comes and goes and mutates, like a cold or the flu or bronchitis. So, disease it is. And as such, I have to approach my future with an honest evaluation that there will be days when I am just not up to par. And when I say par, I mean my own standard.

Thats another thing that Im learning, and want to share: I can't let society or my community or even my closest friends determine what is expected of me. I know myself well enough to be my own worst critic. I will gladly accept support, correction and encouragement. But 'par' for me is not the same as 'par' for Clara Hughes or any other person who has struggled with a mental health issue.

Par for me is accepting that its winter in Canada. I had forgotten the extreme toll this season takes on my mental and physical state (having been in Africa last winter).

I am also living in a rural community where some days (like today) its just not feasible nor safe to get out of the driveway and on to the roads. Being housebound sounds appealing until its going on day five. Then I have to dig deep and force myself to bundle up and fight against my own self to go visit people.

Im also caring for my beautiful grandparents who are aging and slowing down considerably, and that too takes an invisible emotional toll.

When I express that Im content with my life, its not a "power of positive thinking" sort of comment. Its an honest admission of where I am at right now. Sometimes it just takes me a bit of analyzing before I can weed out the fleshy sort of humanistic longings and see my life for what it really is. My medication balance is a daily work in progress. And some times I will have low days. Some days I wont sleep well at night so I will want to sleep all day. Some days my arms will feel weak and I wont have much muscle strength to get on the tredmill or lift the weights to work out. That is my reality: I have a disease that attempts to steal the joy of my tremendously blessed life. And some days the fight to win against the disease will just be harder than others. Today the battle is easier, which is why Im finally getting around to write this long overdue post! 

Off to watch the Olympics! Go Canada Go!!!!