Sunday, April 6, 2014

Are you depressed?




"Are you depressed?"

I couldn't look the man/doctor in the eyes, my head was too heavy for my neck, literally.  A week after the car accident I was sitting once again in my regular doctor's office.  Staring down at the floor, I said, "I don't know, you tell me." But that wasn't all I said.  Still staring down at the floor, my heart lurched and I couldn't tell which hurt more the entirety of my whole body or my heart.  It all hurt.

"We moved here almost ten months ago, right after launching our oldest son into the next phase of his life.  Before we could even get acclimated here, major explosions were going off back from where we came from, things that were affecting some of the people I love the most.  My aunt is fighting the battle for her life and my mom is living each day with her, most anything I thought was a "given" in life has evaporated. And on top of everything I am now in immense physical pain.  So I don't know doctor, I really don't know. You tell me, am I depressed?"

I couldn't see his expression, but across my path a tissue was handed over.

We talked more and at the end of the conversation, he concluded that I was able to say somethings felt better, I had hope and belief in places and could speak of silver linings upon hard circumstances.  It was a very gentle and sweet conversation and answered a lot of questions for me and my heart.  

This morning, four weeks into this thing, I'm beyond tired of my head feeling like it is an orange being pressed into a juice maker.  I'm tired of the world having a fancy spin upon it and I would love to look outside without wearing sunglasses.  I'm tired of spending the majority of my days laying down, with the world spinning and blurry. 

I'm tired of the bombs that won't seemingly stop going off.  When the landscapes of life are full of rubble and nothing makes sense and there is no "normal" to go back to, and all it feels like one can do is duck and cover.  But waiting for all the bombs to stop falling and for the dust to clear wasn't getting me anywhere.  

Duck and cover wasn't working. And I was angry. Angry that life was continually spinning out of control. But really I was just angry. Angry at God and others. I felt betrayed and wanted to blame everyone and everything for all that was crashing in around me. I felt duped again. I felt stupid for trusting and believing people, the church, the Lord. I felt betrayed by hope and by my heart. I felt ridiculous for letting go of a realistic view of things, aka cynical view of things.

Every terrain of my life had the debris of the bombs that had hit it and I was angry, and scurrying for a way out. The way out was going to be painful. It was going to point the flashing bright neon sign, not at anyone else, BUT straight at me. A huge blinking and bright neon arrow was going to point directly at my own heart. And the God who I want to serve, not a god of my own making, was going to ask me, “Do you want to deal?” In the most amazing Fatherly voice, He was going to come and rip off the band aids with the most gentle of hands.

I hated that I had needs. I hated that when I said, “I'm fine,” or “I'm ok,” that that wasn't true and I couldn't will it to be true. I hated that my heart was betraying me and the needs that I had were screaming and leaking through every pore. I hated that I was weak and vulnerable. I hated that I cared. I hated that I needed help. I had embraced vulnerability and transparency yet had come to a place where I despised them more than embrace them. I had judged them to do nothing except show weakness, and everything felt fraudulent. I had been vulnerable and shared my heart and my life and had been left seeing or thinking how stupid the whole thing was.... I wanted something different. But the “different,” felt cold and even more fraudulent. I was angry at how stuck I felt.

I felt trapped. And those I had sought for counsel in the past felt gone. Each part, of the landscapes of my life, that I had thought I had, had been decimated. And right when it felt like it couldn't get worse, the car accident happened.

The reality was I had needs and I was vulnerable. Vulnerable to a world that is fallen and where really bad things can happen. Vulnerable, ie not in control. I was angry that I was not in control. And realizing how very little I really trusted the Lord. How very little I trusted anyone. Trust had been broken in so many places and each was like a shard waiting to stab at my heart.

But again the neon sign wasn't pointing at any of those events, it was pointing at me. And a slow, quiet, persistent battle would begin. It continues. What I have learned in the last four weeks of life where there has been no other choice but to rest, is the lesson of choice. I can hate weakness and vulnerability all I want, I can paint upon my face and will within my soul to close down and be whoever I want, BUT at some point... at some point, it will collapse. Maybe the charade can last longer in your life but not in mine. The anger and hostility and bitterness was only eating at my own soul.

So liken unto the situation Peter found himself in, I squared off with Jesus... and spoke similar words, “I have no other place to go.” Believe me if I thought I did I would be heading there... But I don't. I don't even believe as much as I once did that You will even really help, but I do know you care and I do believe that though things don't look at all like I would want them to, I do want to believe that You are working around the scenes and working all things for my good. I will believe that. I am willing to believe that.

He is so contrary to most everything of this world. His ways and thoughts are so distinctly different, higher... better.. full of life. This world is dying. It is passing away Yet it was this world and things of this world that I was letting and wanting to fill the needs of my heart. I had learned those lessons in the past. This turn of revisiting them were going to depths unseen before.

So now... Now, I still have not a clue. Still sitting amidst some of that rubble of landscapes torn apart by life or other's choices, situations and circumstances don't change at the drop of a hat, but a heart can begin to.

I want to know Jesus not for I would make Him to be; Judas Escariot, wanted Jesus to be the immediate deliverer of Israel against the Romans and had not a larger vision. I can fall privy to that. The multitudes wanted to be fed, healed and delivered but not told the harder lessons, OH, I am so like that... Martha complained to Jesus and in her bitterness spewed, “if only you had been here,” not waiting or trusting His heart nor His intentions.. how often that is me. It isn't my time table, you left me wanting, you didn't do what I thought you were going to, and the list goes on and on...

In that place He speaks, “Are you leaving too?”


I look up and as my heart honestly speaks, I do know better. I know there is no other place to go. I don't know how to walk here. I don't know how to know You, for who you really are and not an idol I would make you into be, but I want you to be my God. I want to trust you. I want to know you. From there we continue to walk together through all the rubble and the terrain filled with exploded bombs.

4 comments:

AmGrace said...

This was like reading my own thoughts.... ones I haven't found words for. So similar are the struggles you mentioned that I almost see your tears mingled with mine on the kitchen table as they fall from my cheek. Thanks for sharing

Anonymous said...

Thanks for sharing, Mims.

When I saw the picture and read your blog, I was thinking of it as something that I will be walking into in the future, but then the Spirit reminded me that just this morning, I "heard" the windows in church shattering and on previous occasions I have "seen" the walls collapsing. The reality of this and the suffering associated with it press in on me.

May the Spirit of Jesus rise up within you, strengthen you, and give you peace.

Blessings,
Betty Carty

Anonymous said...

I needed to read this. It felt like someone was reading the words written on my heart and I cried knowing I wasn't the only one who feels this way. I prayed your words to God because I hadn't thought of how to word it before. Thank you for sharing. God bless & keep you.

Anonymous said...

Thank you so much for your words. I can very much relate to them as if I was speaking them myself. I really appreciate your transparency.
God bless you