Time for Change

Journals and journals I have are filled with springs of depression...sometimes in March, often in April, nevertheless, paralyzing days and nights of fear, hopelessness and despair. Those that don't know me well may be surprised because I do believe I hide it well. My brothers and sisters in Christ have stood in the gap for me several times in the past few years as I have realized this is a spiritual battle. And my husband has come along side me as I have become determined to fight it-and win.

Three years ago, I thought it would be the end of me. The truth is, although I cried out to God for help, I wasn't doing anything to help myself. Honestly, I was waiting for a miracle. After decades of suffering from depression, I just wanted Him to banish it forever. My God is big, and I knew it was possible. I remember driving with the kids in the car one day, tears streaming down my face, pleading with Him to just take it away. He answered me, but not in the way I expected. He told me His grace was sufficient. He would help me, never leave me, but not take it away.

It was time to be honest, with myself and with my husband. As we talked that night I shared my deep, dark thoughts. We talked of my depression, but this was the first time I shared the depth of it, which had grown over the 10 years we'd known each other. The fear in his eyes reassured me it was time to seek help.

First it was the help of our pastor we sought. He listened and knew the right questions to ask and when he spoke, I had no doubt it was from the Lord. My hardest times where around Halloween and Easter, time of high spiritual activity. I could be more sensitive to the battles raging on in the spiritual realm.

It seems to make sense because the past few years have very hard and I'm closer to God than ever before. Two years ago I felt physically ill on Halloween. Such a darkness came over me this fall that I did seek help in medication. Amazingly it offered instant relief but after time, began exhausting me. Within a month I felt confirmation from the Lord to quit taking it and sure enough, all was well again.

But here I am, two weeks 'til Easter and it raised it's ugly head two days ago. Yet I praise God because I felt it coming. Anger and frustration began to build up inside me and about the time my mind began the negative self talk, I recognized what was happening. Last night I fought with my wonderful husband for no reason, yet recognized why after the fact. He embraced me in forgiveness as he prayed for me. Today I've started to cry for no reason at least four times, but I as I stood on the truth of God's love for me, His perfect plan, His protection, it faded away.

I've lived with depression for about 30 years. Yes, there have been times I thought it would never end. Yes, there have been times I thought I couldn't make it. But I know that is not the plan of my God. His plan for me is for a hope and future. His plans are for me to prosper and not fail. I don't believe this fight is over, but I'm hanging on to the hand of God, knowing His grace is sufficient. After all, He's already won the battle, so I stand at a place of victory. It's about time I started to fight like it.

Inspiration

It's been a month of just be-ing. It started with an accident that just seems so not right, taking the life of a friend my age. I wanted to write about it, but there were no words to describe the sadness, disbelief. My life was put back into perspective...God, husband, kids. At the end of the day, it matters first what I've done for them. After pondering, I reconstructed my day, my life, to show my priorities. Home schooling comes before work, husband before chores. God meets with me in the morning and with me and my hubby before bed. Even writing seemed so much less important.

So, one week turned into two and two into three and the only action my keyboard got was typing work emails and posting on Facebook. Stress crept back into my life. Jeff saw the signs, sore back, my broken out face and aching jaw, and graciously pointed it out to me. As I relunctantly prayed about it, God reminded me I had walked away from my stress reliever - writing.

"But I'm not inspired." I argued.

And He so gently spoke to my heart, "But it's what I've made you for."

Oh. Is that why it decreases my stress level? Is that why I feel so happy, so whole when I pour my heart onto paper? Is that why Satan tries to distract me from it with a hundred other tasks? I get it.

If you'll excuse me, I'll be about God's business...writing. Maybe that novel I started some 16 years ago is a good place to start.