As we finished singing and sat down to hear the announcements, I wrote on the top of my notebook, “No Excuses.” The phrase seemingly came from nowhere. I had thought during the worship time and prayer that I really should stop making excuses. It seems I’ve had an excuse for everything lately. I don’t feel good so I don’t work out. I’m depressed so I don’t do this. I’m scared of failing so I don’t that. I’m tired so I don’t do anything. “No Excuses! I’ve got to stop it.” I thought. I remembered Rachel telling me I need to start acting like a soldier.
I continued writing down little notes about upcoming church events and listing things I needed to do later in the week. “No Excuses” got lost in the scribbles.
I hadn’t received a program so I didn’t know what Pastor Kyle planned on preaching that morning. His sermon title: Risky Business. I began to take notes on the sermon… jotting down key phrases. Risk and reward. Obedience is not an option… And then the next PowerPoint slide showed up on the screen. Excuses. He preached about excuses…about Fear and Failure and Finances… all of the things I had worried been thinking about. All of the excuses I had been making. When I realized what he was preaching about, I remembered the words I had written on the top of my page.
I’ve been stuck in a rut for a while. A rut. A slump. A funk. Burnout… whatever Christians call depression when they don’t want to admit they’re depressed. For some reason, many Christians don’t actually like to admit they’re not bubbling over with joy. Is this true in your world or just mine? Maybe it’s a Pentecostal thing. I think to myself, “Hey, I’m supposed to be filled with the Holy Spirit… and a fruit of the Spirit is joy… God actually commands us to rejoice…. Great, I’m definitely not the picture of joy today… not only am I paralyzed by melancholy but I’m disobeying too!” It’s a self-bashing inner-conversation which definitely doesn’t help matters.
Self condemnation rarely does help. And yet, somehow depression breeds self condemnation… It births these little lies we tell ourselves which, when believed, grow into unbearable monsters with incredibly strong grips. Their strangle hold makes it hard to breathe. They hold us down–sitting heavily on our chests–weighing down our hearts. They cover our eyes, making the truth almost impossible to see.
Little lies. Actually, I hate lies of any size. One good way to see the fire in my eyes is to accuse me of dishonesty. Goodness, that upsets me! So does lying to me. Seriously, don’t do it. I hate lies–spoken and unspoken. And yet, I lie to myself. I do. When the fog of depression steals my breath and clouds my vision, I lie. I tell myself I’m incapable, unlovable, unacceptable, unintelligent, worthless. I might not pick such harsh words—I try to be a bit more subtle—but that’s the message I tell myself. Even more ridiculous than these lies is the fact that I believe them. I do. I know I believe them because I act like I do. I pull the covers over my head and sleep the day away. I stumble through the day wasting precious moments that should be spent with my children and accomplishing absolutely nothing.
Nothing. That’s what I feel like after listening to so many lies… and that makes them even more believable.
Depression. It’s a murky, inviting quicksand. Yes, I said inviting. That might surprise you. It might not. It might sound familiar. I know I’m not the only Christian who fights for joy. Authors wouldn’t have written so many books about it if I were the only one. Preachers wouldn’t have preached so many sermons… David wouldn’t have written so many psalms.
I’ve dealt with depression for as long as I remember. And yet… the word rarely shows up in my 1,855 blog posts. Maybe that’s because I don’t talk about it. But there it is. Depression. It’s kind of a depressing word isn’t it? But naming it publicly somehow makes it a less daunting foe. Hiding never helps. Neither does pretending.
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That’s the end of this post. I have no pretty ribbon to wrap up all of these difficult words. There is no bow on top that says, “Yeh, I used to have a hard time with that but now, Praise God, I don’t.” I’m doing better lately, I’m fighting harder and smarter against the quicksand and finding it more revolting than inviting… but it is still a fight.
P.S. I didn’t write this to garner sympathy or support… actually I’m just hoping someone out there will realize they’re not alone. I’ll write more on this topic later.
With the business of school and Joel’s deployment and homecoming, I’ve neglected some friends for a while. I’ve missed everyone! So I dedicated a few weeks to reconnecting and networking.
Last week we played at the park with Hillery and her children. On Thursday, Angela came over for a visit. Angela works with Parents as Teachers and has come to our house numerous times over the last few years serving in that role. The kids loved playing with her and I loved talking to her. But my children aren’t preschoolers anymore… so her work here is done. How sad! I’ve grown awfully attached to her. My normal MO would be to say, “we should get together sometime” and then not. But she’s too cool to let her slip away, so now we just hang out sometimes without the puzzles, teaching aids and developmental screenings. Fun Fun.
On Saturday I had lunch with fellow blogger, Singing Owl! [No that's not her real name...] She’s an AG pastor in Wisconsin. Her husband is a prison chaplain so they came to Springfield for the chaplain’s conference. I absolutely loved getting a chance to meet her. I kept her for two hours at Chipotle and would have loved to talk to her even longer. Here’s her post about their time in Springfield.
Last night Kristin came over to hang out after dinner. Kristin is a student at AGTS who is preparing to become a military chaplain. She’s doing her AG credentials interview on the same day as I am next month so we spent a little time brushing up on the necessary theology.
Today I had lunch with Christine, a friend from my college days. We definitely don’t see enough of each other. Christine and I went on a road trip to Arizona and Mexico nine years ago. It was awesome. I’d love to do that again sometime… but I’ll settle with taking all of our kids to the park. Life has changed a bit for both of us since 1999.
Tomorrow I get to hang out with Joy [another fellow student] after church. Next Tuesday I get to have lunch with Pastor Loralie.
I’ve still got a long list of friends I want to reconnect with before school starts. Email or call if you want to get together. I miss ya!
As the presidential election heats up, I continue to hear about the candidates’ views on abortion. Sometimes it’s hard to figure out what is true and what’s just political mud.
As I research the issue, I’m saving my findings at a Squidoo lense called Abortion Politics. Feel free to check it out and suggest other links and news articles.
While we’re on this touchy subject please tell me, how does a candidate’s position on abortion affect your vote? What issues are most important to you? Do you have any deal breakers?
As we said our bedtime prayers, Sarah prayed, “And thank you for giving me a loving heart.” After her amen, I asked why she prayed that. Had she heard it somewhere? No, she said. “I just said it because he gave me a loving heart… he made me love you.” Then she kissed me on the cheek. Such a sweet girl.
Fun Fun.
