Tuesday, February 4, 2014
It is January 31
It is January 31.
A very long day for me.
A very long month for me.
Every year.
This year I went on a cruise for 5 days starting the middle of the month. It helped. It helped with the anticipation of the sunshine and the actual sunshine helped, even though they were having a cold spell in the Bahamas.
In two weeks I will again be going south, thanks to my dear man who has lived with me for almost 19 years now - that means almost 19 winters. Only the first couple were without seasonal depression.
As I look back, I find that my toughest times were in February.
I had to delay my second son's first birthday party because I fell apart. That still makes me sad.
This time each year our church has a church leaders retreat - for the pastors and the elders and the deacons.
Tonight is that night.
Last year I made it, but the year before that I didn't.
And the year before that I didn't either.
I don't remember much about those 2 events,
but I remember not wanting to call for help.
I remember trying really, really hard to NOT call for help.
I remember pulling my stationary bike inside and attempting to exercise to chase the darkness away, but none of it worked.
And I called.
He had to tell all those men that he had to go home.
I don't know how that made him feel.
I don't think any of it was good for him or for me - No, I know - none of it was any good.
But he came. And we sat. And we did nothing.
And I felt like a failure.
He ordered pizza and that was it.
(and the men went on without him)
Then the next year that same weekend loomed, and I didn't think it would be so bad.
It really wasn't a big deal - one night of him gone . . . well,
one night at the end of January to be more precise.
The afternoon came and the meeting was close by so he rode with a friend.
It got darker outside and inside, I again, started to fall apart.
I didn't know why, but I knew what I needed was him,
and in tears, I cried, and I called, and in just a few words told him I (again) was a mess.
This time I heard ( or he told me) what happened on the other end.
They had been praying. A circle of men. Men that are my dear brothers in Christ.
Praying for their church body, and even praying for me.
He had to interrupt and tell them that he had to leave -
normally, he would have just slipped out and explained later,
but he didn't have his car . . .
He said keys from all around the circle were immediately tossed at him.
And when I heard that, I suddenly realized that my struggle hadn't been about me - maybe it never is. I truly think it was about those men who love me, who love my husband, who love my family learning about what it means to live with depression - for both me and my husband.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Sundays - with Seasonal Affective Disorder
Sundays. I usually LOVE Sundays. I'm with my "little" family - my man and my boys, and I'm with my earthly/heavenly family - my church. I do life with these people. I have tripped and fallen with these people. I have prayed and rejoiced with these people. I have grown with these people. I have grown 15 years older with these people. I have gone from early married with one child to middle married with 3 growing boys - one very much taller than me - and walked that road with these people.
Once I get past the getting up part (God didn't create me to be a natural morning person), once I'm dressed and out the door, I usually love Sundays. I love being around people.
Usually.
But when I'm sick. All that is different.
I have wanted to blog about what that feels like, but usually I am so sick I can't blog. Then once I'm well enough to blog, I can't remember how bad it was or I don't want to remember it and am too "busy" staying well.
This Sunday it wasn't as bad as it has been, but enough that I can blog about it.
The last few weeks it has been cold in South Carolina. Ridiculously cold. Cold and dreary. Gray skies, no sun. The holidays usually swoop me from one day to the next and then January drops me flat. The happy tree must come down (it is still twinkling in it's corner right now). The outside festive lights turn off and our yard - or rather everyone's yards go back to being black as evening arrives too early. The presents are opened, the parties are over.
This last week it has been very evident that it was January. We went on an overnight ski trip right after Christmas and my reserve is gone. Empty. GONE. I have kept my man in the loop and told him that it was getting harder. He has filled in and cooked and gone to the store and done laundry.
I have learned to joke that I am "solar powered." But to be honest, I'm not joking when I say it. In a week I will be going on a cruise that is honestly more for my health than anything else. I have Seasonal Affective Disorder. I have struggled with depression in the past - year round, but Every year for the last 16 years, I have had depression in the winter.
Back to Sundays. Or rather, this last Sunday.
1. Singing: I love to sing. This Sunday, though, I could have rolled my eyes. I couldn't really get into it. And I didn't care much. Meh.
2. Sermon: Unfortunately, the sermon was on "Grumbling," and I knew in advance it wasn't going to go well. He was talking about grumbling - which is something we do - with a bad attitude, but my brain kept equating it to depression - which is an illness. Depression is an illness - Like leprosy, but without the outward physical signs. It wasn't a sin back then, but it was treated as such. Jesus talked to them (those with leprosy), touched them and healed them, but they were treated like sinners.
My own brain accuses me of sinning. I guess you could say my illness accuses me. (More about that in a future post)
3. My faucet turned on. I had tried to not listen - I was reading Psalms and Isaiah- not because it wasn't a good sermon, but because I could feel what my brain was doing. I was trying to tell myself the truths of God's word, but my thoughts were telling me otherwise.
Then "my faucet turned on."
It's a code of sorts - that phrase - between my husband and I.
We've used it for several years now. It simply means, I'm crying and I can't stop.
Sometimes there is a tiny reason (never sufficient for the amount of tears),
sometimes there is no reason at all.
My eyes filled and I tried to turn my head from side to side to get the tears to drain down the ducts, but the water kept coming and spilled over. One tear then another slid down my face and as I hung my head trying to hide on the fourth row in the very center of the church, I watched my tan sweater darken at each spot where the tears were falling. I quickly searched for a tissue - none, and then after years of experience - I knew I had to leave. It was a last ditch effort to not completely fall off the cliff, and to escape before my vain attempts to quell the waterfall erupted in a loud sob.
I whispered to my man, then stood and attempting to use my Bible to cover the damage the tears had done, I tried to be as little as possible and I walked out.
But I know I was big.
4. Emma smiled at me. I dabbed up the tears, but knew my eyes were still glossy and told more than I cared them to tell. Then I walked out to the lobby where Emma - whose 1st birthday party I had attended the day before - saw me first and smiled at me.
Thank You, God, for these simple things. A sweet baby girl with beautiful eyes that looked and me and smiled. I sat and visited with the mommies of 3 little ones - thankfully all 3 know me and know my struggles. I hadn't thought about that "coincidence" until right now.
God, You are always taking care of me, even when I can't feel it.
When singing signaled that the sermon was over, I returned to my fourth row seat.
5. Alone in the midst of my closest friends. Immediately after the Amen, two ladies behind me wanted to talk about our trip coming up. I was able to converse pleasantly about that and then turned to walk out the aisle.
My man had moved on. In the past when it has been this bad, I have had to ask him to not leave me in the midst of any crowd. I cling to his hand as if it were a life preserver, but he didn't know yet that it wasn't a "usual" Sunday - when I flit from one friend to another and gab and laugh.
I searched the crowd for a safe place to slip into a conversation but all the backs seemed to be turned and all the places for another friend seemed closed. No one caught my eye and so I slowly picked up speed still hoping to catch a friendly glance, but instead hearing that voice that tells me that I have no friends (liar) or that no one wants to talk to me (liar) or that even worse I don't want to talk to them (liar).
And so I fled to the next thing. Sunday School and children. Sweet wonderful things they are!
6. Afraid. My man and I have been teaching this particular Sunday School class since they were in 3rd grade (3 years). We have a group time of singing and a lesson and then 15 to 30 minutes of class time. I usually run it, but this Sunday my heart is tight and I can't think of what we should do. I think I'm too weak - or so says the liar voice to me. The more I talk, the stronger I get, but that too is exhausting. I make it and they have cheered me greatly and I smile, but that is about all I can do.
7. Lost and exhausted. It's January. And so, the plans for Sunday lunch have not happened and my man steps in again with food plans.
We go to the grocery deli.
I see daffodils in the floral section - the proof that spring will come - and I pick up my favorite.
He asks me if I can order for him and I look at him - just a glance - but a blank glance, and he touches my arm and says, "Come on," with just enough understanding and compassion to make me follow him but not cry.
He also makes a plan for the next meal of the day, and I pick up a few things we are running out of and place them in the cart. He touches my arm several times and says, "Come on."
My boys flit here and there getting a few necessities and I wonder how much they really see. I pray they are learning how to love a woman.
8. Thankful. I am at peace with my illness. It has been a long hard journey and could be even longer and even harder, though I pray not. Depression makes you appreciate the simplicity of happiness. Things that make me happy when I'm struggling are particularly special - a friend that joins me for lunch, the bird feeder out my kitchen window, a yellow egg crate, Christmas lights still being cheery in my living room, my boy turning on lights for me to try to help me out.
If you struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder, or think you might, here are my suggestions. Find someone to talk to - a friend, your spouse, a doctor, all of the above. Take medicine if necessary. Exercise (my favorite is a walk with a friend - preferably outside, but if necessary, we go to the mall), Sunshine or a Sun Lamp or both. Give yourself grace to be ill - don't expect yourself to be on top of everything. I do all of these things and when it is still really hard, I go to a tanning bed for a couple of times in January or February.
Once I get past the getting up part (God didn't create me to be a natural morning person), once I'm dressed and out the door, I usually love Sundays. I love being around people.
Usually.
But when I'm sick. All that is different.
I have wanted to blog about what that feels like, but usually I am so sick I can't blog. Then once I'm well enough to blog, I can't remember how bad it was or I don't want to remember it and am too "busy" staying well.
This Sunday it wasn't as bad as it has been, but enough that I can blog about it.
The last few weeks it has been cold in South Carolina. Ridiculously cold. Cold and dreary. Gray skies, no sun. The holidays usually swoop me from one day to the next and then January drops me flat. The happy tree must come down (it is still twinkling in it's corner right now). The outside festive lights turn off and our yard - or rather everyone's yards go back to being black as evening arrives too early. The presents are opened, the parties are over.
This last week it has been very evident that it was January. We went on an overnight ski trip right after Christmas and my reserve is gone. Empty. GONE. I have kept my man in the loop and told him that it was getting harder. He has filled in and cooked and gone to the store and done laundry.
I have learned to joke that I am "solar powered." But to be honest, I'm not joking when I say it. In a week I will be going on a cruise that is honestly more for my health than anything else. I have Seasonal Affective Disorder. I have struggled with depression in the past - year round, but Every year for the last 16 years, I have had depression in the winter.
Back to Sundays. Or rather, this last Sunday.
1. Singing: I love to sing. This Sunday, though, I could have rolled my eyes. I couldn't really get into it. And I didn't care much. Meh.
2. Sermon: Unfortunately, the sermon was on "Grumbling," and I knew in advance it wasn't going to go well. He was talking about grumbling - which is something we do - with a bad attitude, but my brain kept equating it to depression - which is an illness. Depression is an illness - Like leprosy, but without the outward physical signs. It wasn't a sin back then, but it was treated as such. Jesus talked to them (those with leprosy), touched them and healed them, but they were treated like sinners.
My own brain accuses me of sinning. I guess you could say my illness accuses me. (More about that in a future post)
3. My faucet turned on. I had tried to not listen - I was reading Psalms and Isaiah- not because it wasn't a good sermon, but because I could feel what my brain was doing. I was trying to tell myself the truths of God's word, but my thoughts were telling me otherwise.
Then "my faucet turned on."
It's a code of sorts - that phrase - between my husband and I.
We've used it for several years now. It simply means, I'm crying and I can't stop.
Sometimes there is a tiny reason (never sufficient for the amount of tears),
sometimes there is no reason at all.
My eyes filled and I tried to turn my head from side to side to get the tears to drain down the ducts, but the water kept coming and spilled over. One tear then another slid down my face and as I hung my head trying to hide on the fourth row in the very center of the church, I watched my tan sweater darken at each spot where the tears were falling. I quickly searched for a tissue - none, and then after years of experience - I knew I had to leave. It was a last ditch effort to not completely fall off the cliff, and to escape before my vain attempts to quell the waterfall erupted in a loud sob.
I whispered to my man, then stood and attempting to use my Bible to cover the damage the tears had done, I tried to be as little as possible and I walked out.
But I know I was big.
4. Emma smiled at me. I dabbed up the tears, but knew my eyes were still glossy and told more than I cared them to tell. Then I walked out to the lobby where Emma - whose 1st birthday party I had attended the day before - saw me first and smiled at me.
Thank You, God, for these simple things. A sweet baby girl with beautiful eyes that looked and me and smiled. I sat and visited with the mommies of 3 little ones - thankfully all 3 know me and know my struggles. I hadn't thought about that "coincidence" until right now.
God, You are always taking care of me, even when I can't feel it.
When singing signaled that the sermon was over, I returned to my fourth row seat.
5. Alone in the midst of my closest friends. Immediately after the Amen, two ladies behind me wanted to talk about our trip coming up. I was able to converse pleasantly about that and then turned to walk out the aisle.
My man had moved on. In the past when it has been this bad, I have had to ask him to not leave me in the midst of any crowd. I cling to his hand as if it were a life preserver, but he didn't know yet that it wasn't a "usual" Sunday - when I flit from one friend to another and gab and laugh.
I searched the crowd for a safe place to slip into a conversation but all the backs seemed to be turned and all the places for another friend seemed closed. No one caught my eye and so I slowly picked up speed still hoping to catch a friendly glance, but instead hearing that voice that tells me that I have no friends (liar) or that no one wants to talk to me (liar) or that even worse I don't want to talk to them (liar).
And so I fled to the next thing. Sunday School and children. Sweet wonderful things they are!
6. Afraid. My man and I have been teaching this particular Sunday School class since they were in 3rd grade (3 years). We have a group time of singing and a lesson and then 15 to 30 minutes of class time. I usually run it, but this Sunday my heart is tight and I can't think of what we should do. I think I'm too weak - or so says the liar voice to me. The more I talk, the stronger I get, but that too is exhausting. I make it and they have cheered me greatly and I smile, but that is about all I can do.
7. Lost and exhausted. It's January. And so, the plans for Sunday lunch have not happened and my man steps in again with food plans.
We go to the grocery deli.
I see daffodils in the floral section - the proof that spring will come - and I pick up my favorite.
He asks me if I can order for him and I look at him - just a glance - but a blank glance, and he touches my arm and says, "Come on," with just enough understanding and compassion to make me follow him but not cry.
He also makes a plan for the next meal of the day, and I pick up a few things we are running out of and place them in the cart. He touches my arm several times and says, "Come on."
My boys flit here and there getting a few necessities and I wonder how much they really see. I pray they are learning how to love a woman.
8. Thankful. I am at peace with my illness. It has been a long hard journey and could be even longer and even harder, though I pray not. Depression makes you appreciate the simplicity of happiness. Things that make me happy when I'm struggling are particularly special - a friend that joins me for lunch, the bird feeder out my kitchen window, a yellow egg crate, Christmas lights still being cheery in my living room, my boy turning on lights for me to try to help me out.
If you struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder, or think you might, here are my suggestions. Find someone to talk to - a friend, your spouse, a doctor, all of the above. Take medicine if necessary. Exercise (my favorite is a walk with a friend - preferably outside, but if necessary, we go to the mall), Sunshine or a Sun Lamp or both. Give yourself grace to be ill - don't expect yourself to be on top of everything. I do all of these things and when it is still really hard, I go to a tanning bed for a couple of times in January or February.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Depression in the Church - at the very beginning.
My personal favorite lesson from depression happened on a day (one of many) when I was curled up on my bed unable to get up, unable to smile, unable to pray. I could barely think, "Jesus help me." and that was all I had. But one day, I realized more than felt, that He was with me. He promised,
"Deuteronomy 31:6b He will not leave you or forsake you.”
He brought that verse to my mind, and the fact of it settled into my heart. He was with me. Right there. Right then. I was as spiritual, as righteous as I would ever be without being able to pray, without having a quiet time, without reading scripture, without witnessing to someone, nothing. I could do nothing and yet I still had the righteousness of Christ.
Many stories from scripture have blessed my soul in the darkness.
Jeremiah, the weeping prophet, Nebachadnezzar (weren't expecting that one I bet), David, the friend of God, the woman who bled for 12 years, Thomas, who doubted, and John.
John the Baptist. . . John the Baptist was left in a dank dark cell, and he didn't come out - until glory. Here's what I wrote a while back about that dear man of God . . . my blog was about legalism and so, my thoughts about John the Baptist started with Jesus's challenge to Nicodemus, a man lost in a different darkness - darkness of legalism
Nicodemus had built his own temple of good works. Could he now abandon them and turn to Christ Alone for his salvation? Could you turn from your weekly tithe, your Bible study time, your submissive role as a wife, your helping the fatherless and the widows, your contributions to missions or your own mission trips or even your life as a missionary. Could you let all that "burn up" and not be "counted"? Is Christ's righteousness enough for you? Could you not do another "good work" for the rest of your life and be content to rest in Christ's goodness for you?
When I thought of it today - "Could I give up my works?" My immediate thought was not of the loss of the works, but of the loss of the things that build my relationship with God. Could I not go to church for the rest of my life? That would be painful to not fellowship with my brothers and sisters in Christ. It would be painful to not hear the Word preached or to sing and worship Him. It would be painful to not have a Bible to read. It would be painful to not speak of Him to others. Indeed it would become a fire in my bones. I could not hold it in. (Jeremiah 20:9 But if I say, "I will not mention him or speak any more in His name," His word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot.)
Wow, it would be as if we were locked in a cell to live out our life holding onto only the Righteousness of Jesus - without the evidence of it - here comes the wow part. That is what happened to John the Baptist.
John himself said, "He must increase; I must decrease." But not long after "2When John heard in prison what Christ was doing, he sent his disciples 3to ask him, "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?" Matthew 11.
John, in prison, sends a message to Jesus, "Are you really the Christ?" Can you fathom?
The one who was sent to "prepare the way,"
the one who so boldly proclaimed "I have seen and I testify that this is the Son of God."
The one who was linked with God the Father and God the Holy Spirit as testifiers that Jesus, the Man, was also Jesus, the Son of God, the Lamb of God.
4Jesus replied, "Go back and report to John what you hear and see: 5The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor." Matthew 11
Oh, my, I have just gone back to the cross reference of where those words were in the Old Testament, and I am almost crushed with the beautiful words that surround the message that Jesus sent to John. Isaiah 35:5 Jesus was telling John with words from Isaiah that He was fulfilling those words while John was locked in a dark dungeon. Want to guess that maybe John also knew the words surrounding that verse? Listen to the comfort of the words around Isaiah 35:5
1 The desert and the parched land will be glad;
the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
Like the crocus, 2 it will burst into bloom;
it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,
the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;
they will see the glory of the LORD,
the splendor of our God.
3 Strengthen the feeble hands,
steady the knees that give way;
4 say to those with fearful hearts,
"Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come, he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution he will come to save you."
5 Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped.
6 Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy.
Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert.
7 The burning sand will become a pool,
the thirsty ground bubbling springs.
In the haunts where jackals once lay,
grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.
8 And a highway will be there;
it will be called the Way of Holiness.
The unclean will not journey on it;
it will be for those who walk in that Way;
wicked fools will not go about on it.
9 No lion will be there, nor will any ferocious beast get up on it;
they will not be found there.
But only the redeemed will walk there,
10 and the ransomed of the LORD will return.
They will enter Zion with singing;
everlasting joy will crown their heads.
Gladness and joy will overtake them,
and sorrow and sighing will flee away.
Would those words not comfort you - especially if you were John the Baptist! John knew about the desert about the wilderness, He knew all about what these verses were predicting.
But now John knew of a different desert. A darkness and a hopeless desert that made him call out to Jesus and ask, "Are You real?" "Please tell me it's still true."
It makes me wonder if this were a passage that the young Jewish children learned. Or if just John and his second cousin Jesus learned it together as teen boys, and if John was at the temple when the boy Jesus was teaching the Teachers. Somehow John knew that Jesus was greater than he before it was revealed to him that Jesus was the Son of God, for he argued with Jesus that he shouldn't be baptizing Jesus but rather the other way around. Jesus was telling John that it was all coming to pass, that John had been right - that He, Jesus, really was the Christ! It was all the comfort John needed. He could put his head back down in his dank and dark prison and let his heart rejoice that Jesus really was the Christ!
And not long after, his suffering was ended - not the way any of us would have expected, but mercifully God took him home for his work on this earth was done and it ended not with a last sermon or 100 more baptisms, no more works for John, but the reassurance that Jesus was the Christ!
This time again I am crushed with the compassion of Christ. As if He had hugged John and through these words is hugging me too, so hard I can barely breathe. No lion will be there. None. It will be safe. And the ransomed will SING. EVERLASTING JOY WILL CROWN THEIR HEADS. GLADNESS AND JOY WILL OVERTAKE THEM AND SORROW AND SIGHING WILL FLEE AWAY!!
Thank you, Jesus, for Isaiah 35!!
9 No lion will be there,
nor will any ferocious beast get up on it;
they will not be found there.
But only the redeemed will walk there,
10 and the ransomed of the LORD will return.
They will enter Zion with singing;
everlasting joy will crown their heads.
Gladness and joy will overtake them,
and sorrow and sighing will flee away.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Glorious Rain (aka happy and sad)
It's Thursday, and it's raining. Thunder and all. A Glorious, much needed rain. It could probably rain all week and not be enough, but for now, it is wonderful.
A "little" tragedy happened at our house yesterday. I learned that sparrows - more correctly, house sparrows - don't like blue birds. Don't like blue birds at all!
Birds have been one of my "happys" that get me through the days that feel sad (depression - more prevalent in the winter). For about 10 years now I have put bird feeders outside windows where I often look so their sweetness will cheer me up. And they do. This Christmas, I asked for bluebird feeders to lure my favorites to my yard.
They came. And we have been watching. And I have been meaning to snap the sweet pictures I have seen of them of them with my camera (instead of just with my mind). They picked the house near the driveway, so we've seen either him or her flitting back and forth first building the nest, then keeping the eggs warm and most recently flying back and forth with a flurry to fill the tummies of their hungry babies that would tweet incessantly when momma or poppa bird was there.
I took my camera yesterday as I whirled out the door to taxi, knowing I'd probably see them when we pulled back in. And I thought we did. I thought I saw momma sitting in the hole looking out as we pulled in the drive, but that wasn't what I was seeing.
While my boys tumbled out with backpacks and lunchboxes, I saw a sparrow sitting on the bird house. And I wondered. . . Didn't seem right. I went to gather my things and saw a little bunch of blue feathers on the ground. I mentally accused my cats, but what can you say? Once inside I found a still alive baby bird under my coffee table - a "present" from my sweet cat, Louie. I took baby birdie back outside and found a stray nest. I wish I understood these things more so I could really help, but that was the best I could think of.
The boys were suggesting I put it in the bird house, but I thought that was too risky for the rest of the babies in the nest. I knew the cat couldn't have gotten this bird out of there and this bird was too little to be learning to fly. Something was not right . . . And that sparrow - kept coming back to me.
Later, as I was taxiing my own little birdies to baseball practice and football practice, I told my honey about our afternoon tragedy that had delayed dinner going into the crockpot and had delayed my drive across town, but I was troubled about our sweet family in the tiny house outside ours. He did what I didn't want to do - he looked and confirmed my worst fears. He described it as "bloody" -they had all been pecked to death. That was all he said. And he buried them under their home.
I have not seen any flits of blue and am sad I never got sweet pictures of them parenting their first? their second? their third? family of babies. And I looked up house sparrows. Up until yesterday I thought they were sweet. Turns out they decapitate the babies. And they work in pairs luring away the poppa so the other can slip into the house and kill the momma and destroy the eggs. Nature doesn't seem so innocent today.
Behind all that in my mind is a sweet boy named Samuel and the struggle he has fought for 7 years. The life he has lived with his momma and his poppa and his two older sisters that love him dearly and his younger brother that makes everyone laugh. They have known he would see heaven first. They know it is coming. But how do you prepare for such heartbreak? How do you prepare your daughters and your son for something my kids have never had to think about? Lord, wrap them all tightly in Your arms. Hug them with Grace. And when it's time to take Samuel's hand and he gets to walk in heaven and talk to you with real words and he gets to smile and laugh, show him a blue bird's nest. His mommy and his daddy would really like that. And could you give them pictures of him in heaven for them to hold onto when the rains come?
A "little" tragedy happened at our house yesterday. I learned that sparrows - more correctly, house sparrows - don't like blue birds. Don't like blue birds at all!
Birds have been one of my "happys" that get me through the days that feel sad (depression - more prevalent in the winter). For about 10 years now I have put bird feeders outside windows where I often look so their sweetness will cheer me up. And they do. This Christmas, I asked for bluebird feeders to lure my favorites to my yard.
They came. And we have been watching. And I have been meaning to snap the sweet pictures I have seen of them of them with my camera (instead of just with my mind). They picked the house near the driveway, so we've seen either him or her flitting back and forth first building the nest, then keeping the eggs warm and most recently flying back and forth with a flurry to fill the tummies of their hungry babies that would tweet incessantly when momma or poppa bird was there.
I took my camera yesterday as I whirled out the door to taxi, knowing I'd probably see them when we pulled back in. And I thought we did. I thought I saw momma sitting in the hole looking out as we pulled in the drive, but that wasn't what I was seeing.
While my boys tumbled out with backpacks and lunchboxes, I saw a sparrow sitting on the bird house. And I wondered. . . Didn't seem right. I went to gather my things and saw a little bunch of blue feathers on the ground. I mentally accused my cats, but what can you say? Once inside I found a still alive baby bird under my coffee table - a "present" from my sweet cat, Louie. I took baby birdie back outside and found a stray nest. I wish I understood these things more so I could really help, but that was the best I could think of.
The boys were suggesting I put it in the bird house, but I thought that was too risky for the rest of the babies in the nest. I knew the cat couldn't have gotten this bird out of there and this bird was too little to be learning to fly. Something was not right . . . And that sparrow - kept coming back to me.
Later, as I was taxiing my own little birdies to baseball practice and football practice, I told my honey about our afternoon tragedy that had delayed dinner going into the crockpot and had delayed my drive across town, but I was troubled about our sweet family in the tiny house outside ours. He did what I didn't want to do - he looked and confirmed my worst fears. He described it as "bloody" -they had all been pecked to death. That was all he said. And he buried them under their home.
I have not seen any flits of blue and am sad I never got sweet pictures of them parenting their first? their second? their third? family of babies. And I looked up house sparrows. Up until yesterday I thought they were sweet. Turns out they decapitate the babies. And they work in pairs luring away the poppa so the other can slip into the house and kill the momma and destroy the eggs. Nature doesn't seem so innocent today.
Behind all that in my mind is a sweet boy named Samuel and the struggle he has fought for 7 years. The life he has lived with his momma and his poppa and his two older sisters that love him dearly and his younger brother that makes everyone laugh. They have known he would see heaven first. They know it is coming. But how do you prepare for such heartbreak? How do you prepare your daughters and your son for something my kids have never had to think about? Lord, wrap them all tightly in Your arms. Hug them with Grace. And when it's time to take Samuel's hand and he gets to walk in heaven and talk to you with real words and he gets to smile and laugh, show him a blue bird's nest. His mommy and his daddy would really like that. And could you give them pictures of him in heaven for them to hold onto when the rains come?
Monday, November 21, 2011
Today's Thoughts - on what's trying to happen at BJ
I originally posted this on October 6, 2010. What I have posted today is only a portion of that original post. Here is the link to the entire post. ttp://annettehardysblog.blogspot.com/2010_10_01_archive.html
But today is about something else. I can't blog about all of it for it would be too lengthy, but here's a link to what got me thinking about this http://www.facebook.com/#!/DoRightBJU . To be honest, I don't think BJ is salvageable - I may be typing this in red in honor of their attempt, but as I have grown in my walk with Christ, I see more and more how extremely off base they really are. It would take a true reformation - of Martin Luther caliber to change what all is wrong. But, you know, that's exactly what Jesus did when He took on the Pharisees. One of the best things that has helped me in my understanding of what Jesus thinks about all this - I went through the gospels and even Acts, Romans and a few other NT books and with a colored pencil marked all the verses that either addressed Pharisees directly or taught about them. Do you know that I could hardly turn a page without there being a mark on one of the two open pages? It was eye-opening.
My story is not shocking like the Tina Anderson story is, but it would probably be offensive to many who still hold BJ in high regards. I don't put much on the line because I have been away so long, but I debated blogging because I have just reconnected with a slew of old friends from high school - sadly over the death of a high school buddy. We were shocked into remembrance. All of us suddenly take back 25 years or so to relive old days in the Academy. For me, I haven't been around since graduation. I didn't know it at the time (May 1987), but God had other plans for me. Most of them stayed on and went to college together . . . but for me, a LOT changed.
First God saved me.
(I remember wandering around my new California campus and contemplating the conviction that God was putting on my heart and wondering if I could really start all over like Nicodemus described to Jesus. I remember thinking about the people I had met vs. the people from the school I had left: "What they have is something worth dying for vs. what I had witnessed at BJ - was something that wasn't even worth living for." )
So I did it. I gave my life to Christ.
Then I began to think.
No longer was a school telling me what I was aloud to say, think, believe or do.
I (don't give me too much credit - or actually any credit at all - to God be the glory) began to think about what I believed. What the Bible really said. I asked God to show me the truth - His truth. And He did. And I began the most wonderful journey of trust and faith in God - something I had never seen or experienced at BJ.
In the last 25 years, God has taught me so much. Walked me through so much - good and sad. And a few weeks ago, I wondered why was I again rubbing shoulders with these friends from a different life? Maybe it was for a little bit of this - the real sharing of my life or rather, what God has done in me. You would think that going to a "Christian" high school I would be more sure of the salvation of those friends, but I'm not. You see, we were brainwashed into thinking that if we kept the rules, we could be better Christians. Ironically, none of us thought we really believed that, but real life told me something different. I have to preach to myself all the time that my goodness is in Christ Alone.
To this day I am amazed how much just 5 years of their brainwashing can do to one's thinking. When I got to school in LA (my first year of college), my first question to my roommates was: can I read the handbook? Even then I didn't think I was as brainwashed as that evidenced that I was. I am so thankful for Him freeing me from the life of a Pharisee - I was more prone to it than I'd like to admit. Rules are much easier than a relationship and searching scripture to find out what God really means about stuff.
Enough ramblings - here is a portion of the Blog from 10/6/ 10:
A little more than twenty years ago, I got on a plane to cross the country on my way to college. I vividly remember at some point in the trip realizing that I had left all I knew and loved behind and that I was on that plane with only God. I am ashamed to say, I was uncomfortable with even that idea. Within the next month, that God, who was on that plane with me, revealed Himself to me through sermons from I John, and Matthew 7:21-23, "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven. . . Then I will tell them plainly, 'I never knew you. Away from me, you evil-doers!'"
Up until that time, I had been a "Doer" - Jesus called it what it really was/is an "Evil - Doer." It was sobering at the time and still sobers me today that but for the grace of God, I would have continued in my Doing. Instead I had to humble myself, admit my sin and ask for His righteousness. I then had to tell those around me, but even harder, I had to tell those at home that I had just been saved. That all that they had seen and watched had not been because of my love for Christ, but rather my own working my way to heaven. So, I ask you, I ask myself, "Could you walk away from it all, could you let it burn, could you never Do another thing to please God and be okay with it?"
(As an aside, an argument with myself, if you will. I am not talking about the "easy-believism" version of salvation at all. That once you say the words and walk the aisle, you are a "Christian." This would be the opposite type of "believer" to which I am referring. I think I am starting to understand why James is sometimes so confusing. "Show me your faith without your works and I will show you my faith by my works. . . . " James 2:14-26 speaks to this opposite type of "believer." So, there are both extremes - those that lean on their works and have no faith and those that lean on their supposed faith, but their lack of works prove them false.)
So, with that being said, I give you one last Biblical illustration. Solomon wisely determined the mother of the baby by offering to cut the baby in half and give part to each woman who claimed the baby. The true mother could not bear the idea and gave up her claim to save the baby's life.
So too, my question is a twist of reality.
When I thought of it today - "Could I give up my works?" My immediate thought was not of the loss of the works, but of the loss of the things that build my relationship with God. Could I not go to church for the rest of my life? That would be painful to not fellowship with my brothers and sisters in Christ. It would be painful to not hear the Word preached or to sing and worship Him. It would be painful to not have a Bible to read. It would be painful to not speak of Him to others. Indeed it would become a fire in my bones. I could not hold it in. (Jeremiah 20:9 But if I say, "I will not mention him or speak any more in His name," His word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot.)
Wow, it would be as if we were locked in a cell to live out our life holding onto only the Righteousness of Jesus - without the evidence of it - here comes the wow part. That is what happened to John the Baptist.
John himself said, "He must increase; I must decrease." But not long after "2When John heard in prison what Christ was doing, he sent his disciples 3to ask him, "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?" Matthew 11.
John, in prison, sends a message to Jesus, "Are you really the Christ?"
Can you fathom?
The one who was sent to "prepare the way,"
the one who so boldly proclaimed "I have seen and I testify that this is the Son of God."
The one who was linked with God the Father and God the Holy Spirit as testifiers that Jesus, the Man, was also Jesus, the Son of God, the Lamb of God.
4Jesus replied, "Go back and report to John what you hear and see: 5The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor." Matthew 11
Oh, my, I have just gone back to the cross reference of where those words were in the Old Testament, and I am almost crushed with the beautiful words that surround the message that Jesus sent to John. Isaiah 35:5 Jesus was telling John with words from Isaiah that He was fulfilling those words while John was locked in a dark dungeon. Want to guess that maybe John also knew the words surrounding that verse? Listen to the comfort of the words around Isaiah 35:5
1 The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
Like the crocus, 2 it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it, the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;
they will see the glory of the LORD, the splendor of our God.
3 Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way;
4 say to those with fearful hearts, "Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come, he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution he will come to save you."
5 Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped.
6 Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy.
Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert.
7 The burning sand will become a pool, the thirsty ground bubbling springs.
In the haunts where jackals once lay, grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.
8 And a highway will be there; it will be called the Way of Holiness.
The unclean will not journey on it; it will be for those who walk in that Way;
wicked fools will not go about on it.
9 No lion will be there, nor will any ferocious beast get up on it;
they will not be found there. But only the redeemed will walk there,
10 and the ransomed of the LORD will return. They will enter Zion with singing;
everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them,
and sorrow and sighing will flee away.
Would those words not comfort you - especially if you were John the Baptist! John knew about the desert about the wilderness, He knew all about what these verses were predicting. It makes me wonder if this were a passage that the young Jewish children learned. Or if just John and his second cousin Jesus learned it together as teen boys, and if John was at the temple when the boy Jesus was teaching the Teachers. Somehow John knew that Jesus was greater than he before it was revealed to him that Jesus was the Son of God, for he argued with Jesus that he shouldn't be baptizing Jesus but rather the other way around. Jesus was telling John that it was all coming to pass, that John had been right - that He, Jesus, really was the Christ! It was all the comfort John needed. He could put his head back down in his dank and dark prison and let his heart rejoice that Jesus really was the Christ! And not long after, his suffering was ended - not the way any of us would have expected, but mercifully God took him home for his work on this earth was done and it ended not with a last sermon or 100 more baptisms, no more works for John, but the reassurance that Jesus was the Christ!
But today is about something else. I can't blog about all of it for it would be too lengthy, but here's a link to what got me thinking about this http://www.facebook.com/#!/DoRightBJU . To be honest, I don't think BJ is salvageable - I may be typing this in red in honor of their attempt, but as I have grown in my walk with Christ, I see more and more how extremely off base they really are. It would take a true reformation - of Martin Luther caliber to change what all is wrong. But, you know, that's exactly what Jesus did when He took on the Pharisees. One of the best things that has helped me in my understanding of what Jesus thinks about all this - I went through the gospels and even Acts, Romans and a few other NT books and with a colored pencil marked all the verses that either addressed Pharisees directly or taught about them. Do you know that I could hardly turn a page without there being a mark on one of the two open pages? It was eye-opening.
My story is not shocking like the Tina Anderson story is, but it would probably be offensive to many who still hold BJ in high regards. I don't put much on the line because I have been away so long, but I debated blogging because I have just reconnected with a slew of old friends from high school - sadly over the death of a high school buddy. We were shocked into remembrance. All of us suddenly take back 25 years or so to relive old days in the Academy. For me, I haven't been around since graduation. I didn't know it at the time (May 1987), but God had other plans for me. Most of them stayed on and went to college together . . . but for me, a LOT changed.
First God saved me.
(I remember wandering around my new California campus and contemplating the conviction that God was putting on my heart and wondering if I could really start all over like Nicodemus described to Jesus. I remember thinking about the people I had met vs. the people from the school I had left: "What they have is something worth dying for vs. what I had witnessed at BJ - was something that wasn't even worth living for." )
So I did it. I gave my life to Christ.
Then I began to think.
No longer was a school telling me what I was aloud to say, think, believe or do.
I (don't give me too much credit - or actually any credit at all - to God be the glory) began to think about what I believed. What the Bible really said. I asked God to show me the truth - His truth. And He did. And I began the most wonderful journey of trust and faith in God - something I had never seen or experienced at BJ.
In the last 25 years, God has taught me so much. Walked me through so much - good and sad. And a few weeks ago, I wondered why was I again rubbing shoulders with these friends from a different life? Maybe it was for a little bit of this - the real sharing of my life or rather, what God has done in me. You would think that going to a "Christian" high school I would be more sure of the salvation of those friends, but I'm not. You see, we were brainwashed into thinking that if we kept the rules, we could be better Christians. Ironically, none of us thought we really believed that, but real life told me something different. I have to preach to myself all the time that my goodness is in Christ Alone.
To this day I am amazed how much just 5 years of their brainwashing can do to one's thinking. When I got to school in LA (my first year of college), my first question to my roommates was: can I read the handbook? Even then I didn't think I was as brainwashed as that evidenced that I was. I am so thankful for Him freeing me from the life of a Pharisee - I was more prone to it than I'd like to admit. Rules are much easier than a relationship and searching scripture to find out what God really means about stuff.
Enough ramblings - here is a portion of the Blog from 10/6/ 10:
A little more than twenty years ago, I got on a plane to cross the country on my way to college. I vividly remember at some point in the trip realizing that I had left all I knew and loved behind and that I was on that plane with only God. I am ashamed to say, I was uncomfortable with even that idea. Within the next month, that God, who was on that plane with me, revealed Himself to me through sermons from I John, and Matthew 7:21-23, "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven. . . Then I will tell them plainly, 'I never knew you. Away from me, you evil-doers!'"
Up until that time, I had been a "Doer" - Jesus called it what it really was/is an "Evil - Doer." It was sobering at the time and still sobers me today that but for the grace of God, I would have continued in my Doing. Instead I had to humble myself, admit my sin and ask for His righteousness. I then had to tell those around me, but even harder, I had to tell those at home that I had just been saved. That all that they had seen and watched had not been because of my love for Christ, but rather my own working my way to heaven. So, I ask you, I ask myself, "Could you walk away from it all, could you let it burn, could you never Do another thing to please God and be okay with it?"
(As an aside, an argument with myself, if you will. I am not talking about the "easy-believism" version of salvation at all. That once you say the words and walk the aisle, you are a "Christian." This would be the opposite type of "believer" to which I am referring. I think I am starting to understand why James is sometimes so confusing. "Show me your faith without your works and I will show you my faith by my works. . . . " James 2:14-26 speaks to this opposite type of "believer." So, there are both extremes - those that lean on their works and have no faith and those that lean on their supposed faith, but their lack of works prove them false.)
So, with that being said, I give you one last Biblical illustration. Solomon wisely determined the mother of the baby by offering to cut the baby in half and give part to each woman who claimed the baby. The true mother could not bear the idea and gave up her claim to save the baby's life.
So too, my question is a twist of reality.
When I thought of it today - "Could I give up my works?" My immediate thought was not of the loss of the works, but of the loss of the things that build my relationship with God. Could I not go to church for the rest of my life? That would be painful to not fellowship with my brothers and sisters in Christ. It would be painful to not hear the Word preached or to sing and worship Him. It would be painful to not have a Bible to read. It would be painful to not speak of Him to others. Indeed it would become a fire in my bones. I could not hold it in. (Jeremiah 20:9 But if I say, "I will not mention him or speak any more in His name," His word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot.)
Wow, it would be as if we were locked in a cell to live out our life holding onto only the Righteousness of Jesus - without the evidence of it - here comes the wow part. That is what happened to John the Baptist.
John himself said, "He must increase; I must decrease." But not long after "2When John heard in prison what Christ was doing, he sent his disciples 3to ask him, "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?" Matthew 11.
John, in prison, sends a message to Jesus, "Are you really the Christ?"
Can you fathom?
The one who was sent to "prepare the way,"
the one who so boldly proclaimed "I have seen and I testify that this is the Son of God."
The one who was linked with God the Father and God the Holy Spirit as testifiers that Jesus, the Man, was also Jesus, the Son of God, the Lamb of God.
4Jesus replied, "Go back and report to John what you hear and see: 5The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor." Matthew 11
Oh, my, I have just gone back to the cross reference of where those words were in the Old Testament, and I am almost crushed with the beautiful words that surround the message that Jesus sent to John. Isaiah 35:5 Jesus was telling John with words from Isaiah that He was fulfilling those words while John was locked in a dark dungeon. Want to guess that maybe John also knew the words surrounding that verse? Listen to the comfort of the words around Isaiah 35:5
1 The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
Like the crocus, 2 it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it, the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;
they will see the glory of the LORD, the splendor of our God.
3 Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way;
4 say to those with fearful hearts, "Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come, he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution he will come to save you."
5 Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped.
6 Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy.
Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert.
7 The burning sand will become a pool, the thirsty ground bubbling springs.
In the haunts where jackals once lay, grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.
8 And a highway will be there; it will be called the Way of Holiness.
The unclean will not journey on it; it will be for those who walk in that Way;
wicked fools will not go about on it.
9 No lion will be there, nor will any ferocious beast get up on it;
they will not be found there. But only the redeemed will walk there,
10 and the ransomed of the LORD will return. They will enter Zion with singing;
everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them,
and sorrow and sighing will flee away.
Would those words not comfort you - especially if you were John the Baptist! John knew about the desert about the wilderness, He knew all about what these verses were predicting. It makes me wonder if this were a passage that the young Jewish children learned. Or if just John and his second cousin Jesus learned it together as teen boys, and if John was at the temple when the boy Jesus was teaching the Teachers. Somehow John knew that Jesus was greater than he before it was revealed to him that Jesus was the Son of God, for he argued with Jesus that he shouldn't be baptizing Jesus but rather the other way around. Jesus was telling John that it was all coming to pass, that John had been right - that He, Jesus, really was the Christ! It was all the comfort John needed. He could put his head back down in his dank and dark prison and let his heart rejoice that Jesus really was the Christ! And not long after, his suffering was ended - not the way any of us would have expected, but mercifully God took him home for his work on this earth was done and it ended not with a last sermon or 100 more baptisms, no more works for John, but the reassurance that Jesus was the Christ!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Pain in the neck
Literally. Pain in my neck. I yawned, and it happened. My muscles in great fear rebelled and turned into a hard painful cramp. That's all well and good for the moment, but when they seem to not realize that there is no longer anything to fear? It's time to relax and let go.
Now it is day two and those muscles have been working all night telling all the other muscles in the region to be afraid. . . be very afraid. They are listening to falsehoods and putting me in misery. Freaking out over nothing. And in the process making the body miserable. Hmmmm. Makes you think. But don't think too hard - you might strain something. And since this is at least my fourth bout of this this spring? I know what I'm talking about. Where's my icebag - - ah, dang it, it's got a hole it in - - - again????
Deep breath. Now on to thanksgiving for a while. I have ALOT for which to be thankful!
Now it is day two and those muscles have been working all night telling all the other muscles in the region to be afraid. . . be very afraid. They are listening to falsehoods and putting me in misery. Freaking out over nothing. And in the process making the body miserable. Hmmmm. Makes you think. But don't think too hard - you might strain something. And since this is at least my fourth bout of this this spring? I know what I'm talking about. Where's my icebag - - ah, dang it, it's got a hole it in - - - again????
Deep breath. Now on to thanksgiving for a while. I have ALOT for which to be thankful!
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Indian Summer Black-Eyed Susans
Eight years ago this coming summer we moved into our current home on Dandelion Trail. It was just being finished and so had not a plant in the yard. Yard? How about Carolina (or rather Clemson) orange clay mud. We did have sod put down - having three little boys and white carpets in several rooms, there didn't seem to be any other options. We had left behind a yard that we had also started from scratch but was then filled with flowers and bushes and trees. It was hard to have a vision for what our new yard would become.
It was the beginning of July when we moved in, and it was blazing hot. I went up to Lowes to see what I could add to our yard in blazing July and found one of my favorite purchases.
Black-eyed Susans. Indian Summer variety. They were gorgeous. Huge. And bright Yellow.
I splurged and bought 15. It was one of the best splurges I have ever made. Every year they have returned. They are not guaranteed to come back, but with a little bit of attention I have made my 15 plant purchase multiply almost unbelievably. I think I re-planted at least 50 plants last spring.
The purple coneflower has paid back well too and returns every year without any extra attention.
So too with my several varieties of daisies,
but the daisies don't live all summer like the black-eyed susans do.
But these are my babies. I had a scare about 4 summers ago. They all got mildew on them and then died out early. It was awful. I didn't know if they would return the next spring. When they did I was so relieved and started experimenting with ways to keep them coming back.
Last year I decided to try dividing them and learned the hard way that Indian Summer Black-Eyed Susans don't like to be split. I think all the ones I split died, but the babies that I repotted and moved to better spots - thrived!
This time of year can worry me. The weeds are in heaven and taking over. My hubby as well as our occasional landscaper friend wants to rid the yard of all weeds. But right now, all my perennials are growing right next to the weeds. Yes, the first year, I lost several plants to weed killer. So I get a little nervous waiting for them to start showing their pretty flowers so it is obvious that they are flowers.
This is one plant in front. It produces a plethora of beauty from May through October. In the background is a different type of purple coneflower - I think it is called Texas coneflower. It has spread all across my front garden.
In about 4 to 6 weeks I should have a bunch ready to transplant. I'd be glad to share. Come by and I'll give you one for your yard.
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