I am on a mission to write meaningful words with fewer word counts. (Thank you for the reminder, Gary Fultz.)
I respect your time. So I’m telling you in advance, this is a little longer than my last post which was long. Hmm. That’s why I like Haiku. This is not Haiku. (It’s a 5 minute read.) 😊
Over all these years, since I came home to Shepard Avenue, my literal address, and to my Shepherd, my spiritual Address, God has been cleaning up the place.
When I think about my years of struggle with surrender, and then think about the love of God and how He keeps me connected to the Vine, reminding me I can do nothing apart from Him, I find my peace of mind.
But mental health is insidious.
See, there is a history of mental health issues in my family that I had hoped to avoid, but guess what? It’s a part of my wiring. And that’s okay.
Some of us did better than others in this department. But for those of us who struggle with anxiety and depression to varying degrees, among other things, we know there is nothing worse than trying to fix ourselves or being alone in the dark with our anxieties and fears.
We can’t love ourselves well. We can’t re-wire the many fine wires we are made up of that make us into who we are, and who we are becoming. And we certainly can’t self medicate ourselves well. Sometimes we need medication and sometimes we need even more than that.
Sometimes we need a Spiritual re-working from the inside out that only the Spirit is able to re-wire.
Spiritual healing is Supernatural healing.
For too long, I believed that I was inadequate when it came to faith. I was so hard on myself, which can create self focus. I also clung to wanting to prove myself worthy.
I had surrendered to my Savior, so I didn’t understand why the struggle continued with such intensity, and what seemed to be a daily battle of my will against God’s. I wanted His Will. So why was it so hard? It created a terrible sense of unworthiness and confusion within me.
My mind would easily skew comments, overthink situations, turn reactions into judgements, and a misunderstood look into a self condemnation that caused me to withdraw. I am really good at withdrawing.
But now, I can see that I was on a journey. God was doing deep work in me. He was so gentle, pealing back those layers of my life that needed to come off. He was performing a spiritual surgery.
And I think of it this way…
After his heart surgery fifteen years ago, my dad couldn’t breathe. No one could figure out why. It kept getting worse and there was no help to be offered. His surgeon kept saying, “My surgery was a success!” as if to say, my dad was imagining his shortness of breath. As if to imply it was all in his head, or worse, that he was creating the physical sensation himself, that he was over-anxious and just needed to take a pill to relax. He tried that. It didn’t work.
One day after work, I stopped by his condo and from all the way across the room I could see the terror in his eyes. He looked so small and fragile, his skin was ashen, and I thought he was dying. Just as Dad had, I struggled with claustrophobia and the fear of not being able to breathe was palpable.
I called for help, the doctor?, I don’t remember. But somehow, someway, we were able to get him some oxygen which offered some relief.
But not long after that, he was in ER. We were waiting for the results of tests. When the results arrived, they released him. Again, they said nothing was wrong with him.
But he still couldn’t breathe. Dad said, “I’m not leaving this place until you figure this out.” Doctors don’t know everything. He wouldn’t leave.
They finally called in a pulmonologist who discovered that Dad’s right lung had closed, and the left one was on its way. Following the heart surgery, maybe as a reaction to the shock of surgery, his body thought it was protecting itself, membranes had grown over the lung, eventually squeezing it wall to wall, so to speak, and shut it down for service.
That lung surgery was worse than the heart valve surgery. They had to open up his back and very carefully, surgically remove those membranes, one at a time, layer by layer, so oxygen could again flow into the lungs.
Dad never smoked, but he had had asthma all his life, so he was already vulnerable, but following the surgery we were told if he were ever to get pneumonia, it would all be over. “So be careful.”
He was very careful.
Over the next nine years, Dad had pneumonia nine times, and while in the hospital, he was always talking about a Savior who goes to great lengths and heights and widths to reach his beloved children and to offer His love. Some of his roommates were near death. Some would be gone before Dad left the hospital.
I have witnessed this over and over again, that God uses all things for the good of those who love Him and have been called according to His purpose. Sure Dad struggled, it wasn’t exactly a picnic, but he couldn’t have been happier during those days.
I’m not saying that God gave Dad pneumonia to save another soul, or that he passes out depression for the same reason, but it did seem Dad was always paired up with a roommate or aides or nurses or even doctors, occasionally, who wanted to hear more about this Jesus.
What I’m saying is, God could use even pneumonia for His glory, and that was a beautiful thing to experience. And likewise, he can use depression.
I remember that story because ever since the day I turned to Christ with a softened heart of repentance, He has been surgically removing the layers of hurt and shame and pain that have stolen my breath—my life—over the years.
And I am saying that God can use our stories of struggle to help another struggling soul.
You see, I thought I had been stubbornly disconnecting myself from the Vine, when all along, God was there, connected and working in the deep places within me. Not until He knew my heart could handle something, could He remove another layer and go deeper.
I know this because I have thirsted and longed and waited for freedom from a “prison in my mind”. Insecurities, anxieties, and a not too lovely sense of low self-esteem, that hang out with depression, had always been a part of my life.
Maybe they’re a part of yours too, or a part of someone you love. So we wait expectantly.
Sometimes God heals us in a coruscate of light. Other times, it’s a slow surgical process, like the surgeon carefully, intentionally, specifically removing each membrane on my father’s lungs.
God does the same with our painful memories that close us off from the Breath of Life, Christ’s Spirit in us. Slowly, God woos and heals the deep places that took so many years to dismantle. We need to be kind to ourselves, and patient.
But God. God knows us, every tendon and molecule and hair on our heads. And He knows exactly what we need at exactly the right time.
I write this today because mental health is not always understood by the mentally healthy. Some of us are born without mental illness. I really don’t think my older brother had a drop of it. But for those of us who are finely wired, it’s another story.
But God. God can heal even this.
Faithfully following day by day, reading the Word, morning by morning, Deep calls to deep. God has been able to go deeper and deeper, doing His miraculous re-wiring Work so that I can be free of the fears that held me back.
But we have to be willing.
The disciples “willingly” let Jesus into the boat. They were so afraid in that storm, their faith was shaken to the core, they thought they were staring death in the face as Christ walked toward them on the water. Can you imagine their relief when He was with them in the boat, when the storm calmed, and they quite smoothly reached the shore?
God is so faithful. Real inner healing awaits.
Jesus does that for us in our inner turbulent storms. When we are ready, he takes us safely to shore. He really does turn mourning into dancing.
I am reminded once again how much we need each other. Oh dear one, don’t isolate, I often have. I have to work at this. And why oh why, self medicate, as I have done (and sometimes still do) when there is deep holy healing available?
________
I hope you have found these words meaningful. Here are the Scriptures that inspired and gave me courage to write this post: Romans 8:28, John 6: 16-21, Luke 12:7, John 15:5, Psalm 42:7, Psalm 30:11. Maybe take a verse or a Chapter and meditate on it, ♥️
A big thank you to the photographers who share their work on Unsplash (like my friend, author/ photographer Gary Fultz). Feature photo: I call it Slippers-Adam Littman Davis; Additional photos in order of presentation: Leap-Joel Valve, Light-Runo Vander Kraan, Hug-Nathan DeFiesta
I think this is one of the most beautiful posts I have ever read. I reposted it because it needs to be shared. Simply beautiful, Deb. Thank you and praise God. Love in Christ – Bruce
Oh Bruce, I needed those words. It’s a vulnerable one and you know who likes to get in the way of that. Sending my gratitude blessings your way.
What a testimony that through all your dad was going through, he could be happy with his multiple hospital stays. He knew God was doing in Him something bigger than sickness – bigger even than this life – sharing ETERNAL life. And he could have joy in the midst of suffering. That’s divine perspective!
Yes, Annie, God gives us Divine perspective in oh so many ways. 😉 And for this I offer my thanks. ❤️
Thank you for this, Deb. I’ve suffered from depression and various other mental health issues all of my life. I self-harmed and self-medicated and I still fall back on it now and again also. Your testimony and encouragement means a lot to me, and I loved reading about your dad witnessing in hospital. 🙂
What a beautiful testimony! I imagine it cost you something to be able to share this fully and freely, but it’s an example of God using you for something wonderful, just as he used your dad. Hallelujah, Praise the Lord!
Lesley, Oh that makes me smile and warms my heart. Thank you. I have spent the recent years trying to understand who I’m writing for. It wasn’t until I could connect to my point of pain that I could begin to figure that out. Thank you for helping to affirm this. I hope we can continue on this journey together. We need each other. 😊
Larry, yes, it did. Honestly, it has taken years to write. Now I feel as if I’m finally beginning. But our God is all about new beginnings. Thank God! 😄And thank you for you encouragement.
BTW, I just love how God is using you and your book to speak to those children!
Deb
You tied up a lot of complicated ends in this post deb with so much hope going forward. There is so much here of your life that most of us would also relate to in whole or pieces of, in our own journeys. 1500 words for this kind of life’s slice is skimming the surface and you did it brilliantly to include some of the (very deep) depths to get to dance well. God goes way beyond merely bandaging and propping up our lives. Psst…it’s Fultz. Thanks for the shout outs
Oh Gary! Leave it to me to leave out an “l”. I’m a good fixer though. I’ve had years of experience! 😉 Thanks for your insights into the writing, Gary. Gosh you’re such a help and a tremendous support to me and so many!
Precious! You are courageous and honest! I love that!
Leslie Osborne, So are you! I love you!
😀
I am deeply proud of you, my dear sister. Thank you for helping others by sharing from such a deep place!
Jennifer, I hold you in such high regard as your words have been “feeding” me for some time. Thank you for taking the time to encourage me as I travel into these deeper places. And btw, there’s no place I’d rather be than in deep with God. 😊 He brings such beautiful people to join me there!❤️
Ok, now the link is fixed too. 🫠
As a fellow believer who also suffers with mental health issues and a long family line of others as well, I greatly appreciate this post and the vulnerability in sharing. One of the conclusions I’ve come to is that these struggles often draw us closer to God than if we didn’t have them. There’s a greater dependency on his work in our hearts and minds. There’s a greater self awareness that opens our eyes to see things as they really are, instead of what we think. He uses these struggles in ways that touch within and touch others. That’s exactly what your post did…it touched me!
Stephanie, I agree with you. I remember the years I thought I was fine on my own. I was the center of my world and was surrounded by people who were the center of theirs. In the arts, competition and jealousies were behind so many smiles. I trusted people at face value, was burned and beaten and learned discernment the hard way. (Is there any other way?) But this too was a blessing. It took me to my knees where I found the radiant Face of God, a true Friend waiting. I came to know Him as my trusted confident, and Savior who bent down to meet me where I was. The humility of the Almighty is overwhelming. I will bless Him all my days more! ❤️😊
Your words bring a gift of encouragement and strength to the weary. Thank you for sharing your personal testimony. Blessings, Deb!
Cindy, thank you for your encouraging words. ❤️ You have summarized so simply and beautifully why I write.
Deb
Words are important. Shared stories may make more of a mark than you know. I’ve been lucky, my pendulum swings in a lop-sided arc from content to happy. It rarely dips lower and when it does I bake bread. Kneading is my therapy. But what I really need are people like you who put truth to struggle, so I’m better equipped to understand what my friends and family members are going through.
Thank you!!!
Kelly, Your work has moved me in the deepest way. You remind me to just be me. You make me laugh out loud continually. You have such a great blend of humor and wisdom. 😄❤️
So beautiful and encouraging. It was hard to read about how much your dad went through, but beautiful to see God’s faithfulness amidst it all. I also have mental health struggles, and the comfort knowing God can heal even this brings so much hope in the hardest days. I don’t know you, I just stumbled upon your blog today, but I have prayed for you today as we walk this journey of faith and healing together.
~Cassia Dee
Cassia Dee, (my mom’s name was Dee) 😊 Your words and prayer have so encouraged me. I could feel the lightness they brought this morning. And then I prayed for you as I took a walk. Thank you so much for connecting. What a blessing to me. I hope we can stay in touch as “we walk this journey of faith and healing together.” ❤️
Deb