I have a blenderswirl of thoughts right now...and the need to write to sort them all out...Want to join me for the journey? Okay then, let's go.
As you may have surmised over the past several posts...I've been battling depression. Depression once had me by the neck and then buried me so deeply in pain, despair and self pity, that I could barely take a breath. Believe it or not, that horrible indescribable sadness throttled me for over decade, closer to a decade and a half. I did not think that I would survive it.....and I wouldn't have had God let me have my way. He snatched me a number of times from the very throat of death as I was being swallowed...saved me right off of life support and restarted my breath when it had stopped.
After I recovered from that hell, I swore to myself that I would do anything necessary to avoid going there again. These past couple of weeks several things happened. One is what occurred when I screamed out my "Why?"s to God when my hip dislocated two weeks ago. From there it was an easy slide. The thought ambled so nonchalantly into my mind, "Other women your age are biking, playing tennis, gardening, going to they gym....all the things you would love to do." And the barb went deeper, "All the things you should be doing if things were fair."
Once the venom was in my bloodstream, paralysis was not far behind. I lost interest in everything--even things I can do no longer held appeal. More and more time was spent lying in bed staring at the ceiling, wishing I was no longer in existence. Less and less did I want to talk to people--although I did pretty well at bluffing when necessary--I wasn't too far gone for that ---yet. Tears bubbled easily to the surface and splashed down my face...tears for - you guessed it -- "poor, poor, little old me."
Last night, my sleep also took a hit. When I get depressed, I stop sleeping. Not sleep less -- I STOP sleeping. All night long I struggled, panicked with the suspicion that I am somehow no longer a child of God. I cannot read his Word. I cannot focus in prayer....I cannot study, nor meditate....etc. My Calvinist leanings took a huge and frightening Armenian bend and I experienced first hand what I wanted to say to a friend this week as he pooh-poohed Calvinism...."How can you sleep at night??" Well in my Armenian lean...I answered that question.: I didn't.
During this whole week, something was niggling at my spirit. But I didn't take it out and look at it, so it wasn't until a few minutes ago that God decided it was time to smack me in the head with it. I got today's edition of "A Holy Experience" --Ann Voskamp's blog...and it was on the topic of the purpose of pain. And at the end of her photo blog, was this quote (I assume by Ann),
The surrendered accept that pain is always but growing pains.
And growth is always a gift — even when trials are the tutor
Did you catch it? Not the "growing pains" part....the surrendered part. I had surrendered--at some point years ago...but in the past couple of weeks...I'd begun to take back what I'd handed over and which is NO LONGER MINE to manage. And that is My Future. That belongs to God. It is His to do with as He wills. He has gifts to give me--and yes, trials may be the means by which those gifts come.
I was just listening to an Anthony Evans song..."Trust Me Now" And that is exactly what God is telling me. I may have to suffer...loss of ability, loss of independence, pain, loneliness...but I DO NOT HAVE TO SUFFER SELF PITY OR THE TRAP IT LEADS TO : DEPRESSION. Nope. I 'm not going there. Here and now, I declare to you , My Father, with these readers as my witnesses...I'm surrendering. Again. And I will KEEP on surrendering every time those evil toxic thoughts come back.