On The Path Toward Healing

A friend of mine is an AMAZING artist and she just posted this painting on Facebook today.  Once I saw it, I knew I needed to share it with everyone…especially those that are hurting.  All of her work is inspiring because she has used painting as an avenue of healing in her own life. 

Feel free to check out her blog A Girl and Her Brush as well as her Etsy site.  I hope that you will be ministered to in the same way I was when I looked through all of her paintings.  I even have one in my house…I love her work so much!

The Wastelands

Boxes lined the hallway as I made my way outside.  Barry was loading the remaining items into the U-Haul.  We turned around to soak in the view of our adorable house.  We had recently placed a huge amount of time and effort into fixing up the place.  It oozed with Bishop handiwork.  Barry and I spent our weekends painting, refinishing and building.  That house had been given so much TLC…it was a little sad to see it vacant.  But, the thought of the promise land that awaited brought peace to our minds and propelled us forward.  We could hardly contain the excitement.  In our hearts our move represented so much more than an adventure…it meant that our time in the desert was coming to an end.

As Barry and I drove away from our home base of 5 years, we reflected on our time with mixed emotions.  In that season we experienced the miraculous.  God provided above and beyond what we could have ever asked or imagined.  During that time we were financially blessed and received incredible educational tools.  We ministered alongside some of the best pastors in the country and enjoyed years of memories built with friends.  But, regardless of the high points…that was our desert season.  Our dreams were slowly dying within us and our marriage faced intense opposition.  We struggled to find time for ministry and time for each other.  I suffered a physical miscarriage and even more than that…I began losing my hope and faith in the call of God.  The desert took its toll on us, but it did not defeat us. 

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Matthew chapters 3-4 weaves the incredible story of our Saviors time in the desert.  Jesus was proclaimed, baptized, celebrated, tempted, and triumphant…all in the wastelands.   In the same way, the desert can hold many things for us in our walk with God. It can present moments of despair and temptation. It can leave us feeling hopeless and without direction. But it can also provide Divine Encounters and Miraculous Provision.  Offering moments in which the presence of God surrounds us as He declares His delight over our life.  It can be the stage setting for some of our greatest victories and most precious memories with the Lord.

Looking back I can see the hand of God covering us and carefully guarding His purpose for our life as we walked the wastelands.  I think we were led into the desert for a reason.  In the solitude of that season, we experienced tremendous victories.  We learned some valuable lessons and witnessed amazing miracles.  And each step of the way our Heavenly Father provided us with an Oasis of His love and reassurance to get us through. 

Now that we are on the other side, I can see the value of that time.  Although, I would never want to traverse that ground again, I can rejoice in knowing that God has redeemed what once seemed lost and dying.  The God of the desert and the wastelands is also the God of the Promise Land.  And for that…I am forever thankful!

 

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Stacy’s Story

Standing over the sink, I splashed cold water on my face.  My eyes were red and swollen, my throat was raw from crying.  The first week at my new school left me hurting and questioning God.  I had already endured so much transition and the thought of starting over again was almost unbearable.  I was tired of being the new girl, of introducing myself to curious strangers and walking to lunch alone.  Yet, there I was, giving it one more shot…again.

I sunk to the floor, trying to gain my composure before it was time for dinner.  As I sat there, I asked God for some very specific things.  I asked Him to give me a love for my high school, to give me favor and influence and most importantly I asked that He would allow me to make a difference in the lives of those around me.  That prayer forever changed my life.

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The classroom was cold.  I had only been in there once before and it was cold then too.  I made a mental note to bring a sweater to class as the teacher spoke in the background.  I glanced over to the seat next to me, the girl sitting there had dark hair and fair skin.  Her Kurt Cobain T-shirt gave away her love for music.  She sat there quietly, listening with respect, but I could tell her mind was somewhere else.  I wondered what her story was and why she looked confident, yet so alone all at the same time.  I decided that if given the chance, I would introduce myself.  After all, I had nothing to lose…I didn’t have any friends in the class to begin with.  I don’t even recall how we struck up conversation, but I do remember feeling as though God was purposefully orchestrating our friendship.  She needed hope and I needed to be challenged in my faith.  God was up to something, but what I didn’t know was that I was about to witness an incredible miracle… the miracle of redemption and the power of God to change even the hardest of hearts.

Months went by as I sat across from Stacy.  I became her friend, we joked and laughed.  She tried so hard to hide her pain.  The cuts on her arms were almost always covered up by a long sleeve shirt, even on the warmest Texas day.  But I knew, I could tell that she wanted to change   She wanted hope…she longed for freedom.   During that time my youth pastor was speaking to us about sharing our faith and believing for our friends to come to Christ.  I soaked in every word each week, I knew I was called to make a difference on my school campus.  But I was so overwhelmed, my high school was one of the largest in Dallas with over 5,000 students.  I literally felt like David facing Goliath.  But, instead of retreating, I decided to take a step of faith.  I started praying every day for Stacy and her family.  I prayed that she would turn back to the Lord and that she would put a stop the self-destructive habits forming in her life.  Day after day I prayed.  At times I would fast during my lunch hour or wake up early in the morning in order to get alone with God and cry out for my friends at school.  Tears would stream down my face as I spoke their names…I loved those moments.  I honestly felt as though God was touched by my simple faith, I could feel His incredible presence. 

Not too long after I began seriously praying for Stacy she agreed to come to one of the high school life groups with me.  After that she came to church and shortly thereafter, she turned her life back over to the Lord.  Everything about Stacy changed.  I would see her skipping down the hallway or sharing her faith with other students at school.  She gave a speech on the power of Jesus in one of her classes and began leading numerous people to Christ.  Stacy was changing the face of our high school, people were so amazed at her transformation.  They wanted the same hope, they wanted to know about Jesus. 

Not long after Stacy graduated, she suffered an unimaginable loss in her family.  I invite you to watch the following video.  Her story will bring tears to your eyes and hope to your heart.  My desire is that you would find inspiration as you watch her story.  It is one of redemption, and the healing power of a mighty God.

Stacy Holbrook: There Goes My Hero.

Stacy and her Fiance Zach

 

Mindful of My Mind (part 2)

Growing up, my mother dealt with depression.  To say that she suffered heartache as a young woman would not do her pain justice.  She lost her mother to cancer at 19, her grandfather to cancer at 20 and her cousin, which was like a brother, drowned tragically when she was 21.  In the midst of this she got married and not too long after, she had me.  Her one and only child.  There is no question in my mind that the severe tragedy she endured during those years added to the pain already in her heart.  Growing up she watched her mother slowly die from Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.  When other little girls were having sleepovers and dreaming of prince charming, my mother was praying for a miracle as she sat at the foot of a hospital bed.  Her father was an alcoholic and she lost contact with him sometime in her teenage years.  She was broken and bruised and because of that… I believe she did not have any strength left to fight the war that raged in her mind and emotions after I was born.   

Her battle inevitably became mine as well.  I can remember feeling hopeless and sad in my early teenage years.  I wanted nothing more than to just escape.  Escape my parents fighting, escape my low self esteem…I just wanted out.  As I got older and became involved in church I started memorizing scriptures on joy and began asking God to help me fight my depressed moods.  That season was amazing for me; I felt the cloud of despair begin to lift.  I was laughing again and each day was lighter and better…yet I still had to work hard just to feel normal.  During that time I got married and began ministering right alongside my husband.  Our life was wonderful and also very stressful.  We worked long hours and started the bad habit of putting everyone else’s needs before our own.  Soon my daily devotionals were spent trying to figure out the problems of others and my time with the Lord was more business than anything.  I began feeling isolated and alone again.  Even though I was talking about my feelings, I felt as though no one understood.  I was always pointed back to taking control of my emotions, praying harder and loving God more.  It’s true that those things are vital and of course they helped.  But, I was becoming exhausted from working so hard to maintain what others came by effortlessly.  During that time I read “Captivating” by John and Stasi Eldredge.  Ladies, this is an amazing book and I would classify it as one of the “must reads”.  In the book Stasi spoke openly about depression and her decision to go on medication.  As soon as I read that chapter, I knew in my heart that I should pursue the same route.  So, after talking with Barry and praying for direction, I spoke with my doctor.  You can read about that encounter in my earlier post on depression.  I stayed on the anti-depressants for a while, but I allowed myself to begin feeling judged, like I didn’t have the faith to overcome the battle in my mind.  In order to “fit in” I stopped taking them and I felt myself slowly slipping back.  But this time around not only did I feel down…I became anxious and worried.

Fast forward a couple of years.  After the birth of Rowan, my precious little boy I saw myself struggling more and more with my moods.  This time though it was different.  Throw in physical exhaustion, financial stress as well as the sea of hormones rushing through my body…all together I felt like a mess.  I was happier than ever as a new mommy, but there were days when I felt like I just couldn’t get a grip.  I was exhausted and even though I was staying faithful in trusting God for joy, I felt as though I needed something practical, I needed to get back on anti-depressants.   Luckily, this time around as I opened up about my feelings with some very good friends they understood what I was feeling and urged me to talk to a doctor.  But, not just any doctor an actual psychiatrist.  Honestly, I was kind of excited.  I mean now that we live in L.A. that’s the thing to do.  Anyone that’s anyone has a psychiatrist darling! 

So, I made my appointment and began the process of healing.  I started back on anti-depressants (Thank God) and realized after talking with numerous minsters’ wives that I was not alone in my battle.  Now, instead of feeling isolated, I am able to rejoice in the fact that I am on the road to recovery.  I’m not there…but I’ve started the process.  Not that life is all rosy, but I can say that I do not have to spend my prayer time trying to psyche myself up to enjoy the day.  Laughter flows more freely, the anxiety and worry is sub-siding. 

I feel like I’m living life again, instead of watching it pass me by.

This is probably the most difficult post I have written.  My hope is that as I have opened up about this topic that others will feel free to talk about it as well.   When it comes to depression, being honest with yourself and others is part of the healing.  I am praying for you wives out there, you don’t have to go through this alone.

Mindful of My Mind

It wasn’t too long of a wait, although it seemed like an eternity.  I procrastinated on making the appointment for a number of reasons, but none of them were good enough.  I didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing, but my mind and my heart were at odds and my heart finally won out.  I wasn’t quite sure what would happen, but I knew I couldn’t go on like I was.  I had allowed myself to become exhausted and entirely numb.  Making it through the day was more than difficult and putting on a smile for people was becoming harder with each passing week. 

I sat across from my doctor, very well composed and articulate.  I knew what I needed to ask, but the words were so heavy.  I felt like the entire conversation was happening in slow motion.  My doctor looked at me, square in the eye and chuckled.  “You…depressed?”  “Oh come on, you are always so happy!”  I was a little taken aback, my doctor knew me from church as well as other social functions, but not well enough to shrug off my concerns.  But as I sat there I realized every time he saw me, I was outgoing, smiling and laughing.  To him I was happy and loving life, but what he didn’t know was the amount of effort that went into making it look comfortable and real.  After much deliberation he handed me a prescription.  I walked to my car feeling thankful and at peace.  But even then, I couldn’t help but think that I was letting God down.  I wondered if  it was because my prayer time was lacking, or if I just didn’t have the faith to pull through the seemingly never-ending season. 

One thing is for sure…judgement and criticism can be brutal…especailly when it is self-inflicted.

There is much to be said about depression and mental illness in the church.  Sadly, it seems as though there is still a cloud of secrecy hovering over this topic.  I think this ranks right up there with sexual sin, no one really wants to talk about it or seek help.  It can be embarrassing and extremely personal.  So, for that reason I will speak respectfully about this topic.  I understand that there are varying opinions on the cause and cure for depression.  However, I also feel a responsiblity to speak honestly from my experience.  My hope is that you can find some comfort and inspiration from my story if this has been your battle as well.

To Be Continued…

The Lonely Fall

The Fall of 2006 was a lonely time for me…

I ran into the living room a little shocked, but mostly excited.  I had taken three pregnancy tests and all of them came back positive.  It was true, I was going to be a mom…we were going to be parents.  After 4 years of marriage Barry and I desperately wanted to start a family.  There was this feeling of hope and a sense that all was okay in the world.  We called our family and began telling friends…it was time to celebrate.  But soon our excitement was replaced with tears, doctor visits and fear.  I went home in a daze and in pain.  I blamed myself, I yelled at Barry, I cried myself to sleep.  I felt alone…

The next day was the canoe trip.  We were college pastors at the time and this had been on the calendar for weeks.  There was no getting out of it.  I buried my head in the pillow when I heard the alarm.  I wasn’t going, I couldn’t go, but Barry was and that meant I would be by myself until evening.  A hug, prayer and kiss goodbye and he was out the door.  I laid in bed, still cramping, bleeding and trying make sense of the last 24 hours, but more than anything I was lonely.

Looking back on this season still brings a twinge of pain to my heart.  Aside from the miscarriage, it was just a difficult time in my life.  I was surrounded by people who loved me, I had a good support system but I didn’t truly understand how to have friends while in the ministry.  I knew how to have leaders, pastors and mentors.  But to have genuine friends…in the same church…that seemed completely out of reach. 

When Barry and I prepared for our big move to California two years ago my main prayer was that God would give me a friend in our church.  Aside from our pastors and staff, I needed a best friend.  I needed someone on the outside of ministry.  Someone who could see my house when it’s all messy or hear my husband and I argue over something stupid and not think any less of me.  A friend who could know that I really do enjoy a great glass of wine, I love spending an entire day watching TV and I don’t like to cook. I prayed for a woman who would let me be a friend to her too.  Not someone to lead and disciple, but someone to walk beside and enjoy life with.

It’s now 2010, I have a beautiful baby boy and AMAZING friendships.  God answered the cry of my heart a began the process of healing my soul.  Over the last few years I have seen first hand that life in the ministry can be tough, but life in the ministry alone can be devastating.  The lonely leader often falls.  I fell into depression, other’s may fall into sin.  We aren’t meant to go through life alone.  Friendship is a priceless gift and it is one worth fighting and believing for!