Third time's the charm, Part 1.

(Disclaimer: If you get grossed out or offended by pregnancy and birth stories, I would recommend that you not read this.)

At 12:31am this past Monday morning (or as Kevin likes to say, "Zero Dark Thirty-One"), our lives changed forever - again. Abigial, meet world; world, meet Abigial.

Me and my squishy!

Our gestational journey this time started back in October, when Jacob was just 7 months old. After three home pregnancy tests, it was time to face the music and schedule an ultrasound.  I was still in denial, thinking perhaps the two blue lines, pink plus sign, and clearly digital "Pregnant" display were merely some sort of cruel joke my hormones were playing on me. Perhaps leftover hCG from my previous pregnancy or a cyst of some sort...or maybe even early menopause... As funny as it sounds now, all of these options seemed just as plausible to my dazed mind as the possibility of another pregnancy. But sure enough, as I laid on the ultrasound table and stared at the screen, there it was - a beautiful and terrifying little heartbeat, pumping wildly, singing a song of wonder and possibilities.  Not even in our craziest dreams had we entertained the actual possibility of having three kids. We barely ended up with two after my awful pregnancy and delivery with Karis prevented me from exploring the idea of planning any more children.  My pregnancy with Jacob wasn't much easier and my labor and delivery experience with him was enough to leave me shaking in terror at the thought of doing it again.  I lived the first 4 months of the pregnancy in fear, chaos, and the ever present denial.

My sanity-saving grace?  The Gethsemane prayer - Father, not my will, but your will be done.

I knew that if God wasn't going to change my circumstances that I would need a heart change in order to be able to deal with a new pregnancy.  Deep down, I didn't really want God to change my circumstances, I was just scared, and what I really needed was a new lease on life.  My plans had been turned to rubbish - my classes, degree, and dreams were being put on hold, again.  Suddenly, it became quite clear to me that my role at this particular time in my life was that of a full-time mom and wife and I wasn't totally sure how I felt about that.  So, I did the best I could and took it one day at a time.

Months passed and around 34 weeks, I started feeling contractions - real ones, not Braxton Hicks, as they were causing changes in dilation and effacement. They would start and stop daily, often reaching the "5-1-1" rule, but never strong or regular enough for me to go to the hospital. My test was if I could go to sleep, I would either wake up in real labor or they would be gone. I remembered going through the same thing with Jacob and knew that this was "prodromal" labor/irritable uterus, which was later confirmed by my doctor's office.  My greatest fear now was that these early contractions would progress me slowly to the point of active labor -- and then all hell would break loose again. About 4 days before I went into labor for real, I had a massive panic attack and breakdown over the prospect of having another precipitous labor. The truth is while it is "short and sweet", it is also intensely painful as your body is taken by surprise and loses it's ability to produce endorphins effectively. I called Kevin, who came home and listened to me blubber about what all I was feeling and how scared I was. He hugged me and asked, half jokingly, how many emotions I was feeling - 10? 1000? Eleventy billion?  I laughed weakly and said, "All of the above." He then asked, on a more serious note, "Which emotion is the strongest?"  "Fear", I said, instantly feeling the blood in my veins run cold.  His response was this: "I know you're scared, but remember, fear is just an emotion, you don't have to let it be reality." I remembered a conversation earlier about how Jesus probably didn't feel  that he was being faithful when he cried out to God on the cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" - but that didn't mean he wasn't faithful. Our emotions are not always reality, even though they may feel that way.  I knew he was right. I am so thankful for my kind-hearted, loving, funny husband who not only understood my needs in that moment but was able to help me wade through them. I was most afraid of not making it to the hospital in time for pain medication - my experience with Jacob was too fresh in my mind to intentionally attempt natural childbirth again, and scenes of an over-filled triage room and too busy to listen nurses filled my mind.  I texted back and forth with my friend Julie (who was also so encouraging!), discussing various things, when it suddenly occurred to me that instead of just freaking out, maybe I should turn to Scripture and find my comfort there.  Not having my actual Bible with me, I went to the next best thing - Google! - and typed in "scriptures for new moms".  That led me to a blog post of 10 scriptures for new moms and a link to a previous blog post that included 10 scriptures for surviving pregnancy.  They were all good ones, but the one that reached out and grabbed me was from Isaiah 43.

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
    I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
2 When you pass through the waters,
    I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
    they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
    you will not be burned;
    the flames will not set you ablaze...

You are precious and honored in my sight...

I love you.

Forget the former things;

    do not dwell on the past.
19 See, I am doing a new thing!
    Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
    and streams in the wasteland."

As I read it over and over and prayed (again) for God to take the lead over labor and delivery, a peace washed over me. I broke down and cried tears of repentance and joy. I knew God had heard me and that he would be faithful. He created me and he created Abigail, he knew us both more intimately than I could imagine, and only He could see into the future and determine the right time and place.  So, I waited.  Over the next several days, I could sense labor was drawing close, but I was no longer obsessed with trying to control it. I tried to relax and carry on as normal, knowing that when the time was right, I would know what to do.  On Sunday, I went to church with my family, but since the kids in my Sunday School class were either at camp or in Orlando, I was able to visit the Lillies of the Field class, a multi-generational class of women taught by a retired lawyer who also happens to be one of our deacons, Carol.  It was wonderful to sit and listen and be taught instead of teaching and I loved being in the midst of women older than I who had the experience and wisdom that I needed to hear.  They encouraged and commiserated with me, prayed for me, and listened to me.  We went to church and heard a wonderful message from my wonderful husband from Romans 8 (one of my favorite passages). He pointed out that Romans 8:1 is just as true as Romans 6:23, but that we tend to forget that.  He placed a large red trash can at the front of the church and had us fill out small pieces of red paper with things that we still held in our hearts that we felt deserved condemnation - those little sins that seem to hold on and guilt us into not forgiving ourselves and others - even when God has.  I wrote down several things, two of which were "emotional desperation" and "fear". Along with my fellow church members, I threw them away and walked back to my seat, accepting that God did not condemn me and I would not condemn myself.  Feeling lighter and freer than I had in weeks, I left church with my family and went to lunch.

To be continued...

To be or not to be, who really knows?

'An article by Marv Knox has sparked an interesting conversation on Facebook. I didn't want to hijack my friend's post, so I thought I'd move some of my musings to my blog. Here's the original article:  http://www.baptiststandard.com/opinion/editorial/16108-editorial-knowing-and-claiming-god-s-will and here is the question my friend posed:  What do you think about, worry about, and struggle with when it comes to discerning the will of God? The conversation included many people telling about friends or people saying "God told me" followed by something self-serving or contrary to what Scripture teaches us about the character of God and how discernment often relies on what Scripture teaches us to be true about God.

Honestly, the few times in my life I feel I heard directly from God, it had to do with overcoming sin in my own life - and that's the difference between the obvious and the murky for me, what I know is His will (overcoming sin) and a "declaration of intention" based on feelings or leanings (like "I've been called to ministry!"). (For the record, I'm not picking on ministers, you'll understand later why I used that example.) Feelings can be so misleading. My pastor (and husband) pointed out just how misleading in a Bible Study discussion the other day. He asked if Jesus felt faithful when he cried out "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?!" on the cross. Boy that's a question that will stop you in your tracks. I can't speak for Jesus, but my guess would be probably not, I know when I ponder the same question, I certainly do not feel faithful. But then he followed it up with another question: whether or not Jesus felt faithful - was he faithful? To that, we gave an emphatic "Yes!"  I guess we'll have to wait to ask Jesus what He was actually feeling in that moment, but for me, it was encouraging to hear that I can doubt and still be faithful even in the midst of my doubt. We give Thomas such a bad rap, but seriously, if all the disciples didn't have some sort of doubt, then why were they hiding? Doubt is not the point. Someone once said that the opposite of faith is not doubt - the opposite of faith is certainty. It's an interesting point. Certainty is found in proof and faith does not, cannot rely on proof - otherwise, it's not faith - right? (Again, I'm not claiming an answer as much as I'm pondering many answers.) We will doubt, but even in the midst, we must still push on towards the light.

I know all too well how my emotions can get the best of me. In my deepest darkest times, I can convince myself that literally no one cares about me and I'm completely alone. The last time I tried this, a church member drove by the parking lot I was in at that very moment - the very same church member who filled in for me in Sunday school when I was sick and was ready for the lesson the next week too - just in case. I realized how stupid I was being - here I am feeling alone and loveless when living proof of the opposite drives right by. Feelings are not truth - they are feelings. Isn't doubt a feeling? Sometimes it's validated, sometimes it's not. What about faith though...does faith go beyond feeling? I think it does. 

Was it God's will for that church member to drive by? What if I had chosen to go to a different store first? Would I have gone against the will of God? What if that church member had gone a different way? This leads to the next part of the discussion - are we discerning the specific or general will of God?  Is there a difference?

As for a direct, specific will for my life, that's tough for me to swallow at times.  Almost a year ago I had what I felt was an epiphany in a worship service that had been surrounded by various workshops and experiences. I felt that God was leading me to a life in ministry - specifically in worship (not just music - worship. There's a difference.). I knew that the best way to accomplish this was to go back to school, so after seeking the counsel of those older, wiser, and more mature than I, I transferred my credits to a four year university and proceeded to finish the undergrad degree I started many years ago. I am pursuing a BA in Psychology because I love psychology and understanding what drives people to do what they do. I took 3 classes, managed to get A's in all three, and signed up for 3 more the following semester. About a week before my final exams and projects, I discovered that I was pregnant. Again. 

I was blindsided. We were done having babies and had taken steps to ensure this wouldn't happen. We followed all the rules and even took extra steps, we were so responsible. But apparently, being responsible doesn't always matter. Suddenly, I was in the shoes of the people I'd only read about and (gulp) openly criticized - the "pregnant again within a year" shoes. How could we afford another child? We were still paying astronomical bills from my son's birth only seven months earlier. I was in the midst of battling postpartum depression and had finally began to emerge from my sleep deprived, panic driven state of mind. I had had an epiphany for crying out loud! I was ashamed of my thoughts: God, how could you allow this to happen?  

The will of God. The power of God. The control of God. Faith. Name it and claim it, move mountains and cast them into the sea...right?

What was the truth? How did this news fit in with what I was so sure was the plan for me? Had I gotten too bogged in specifics? Is my true calling as a follower of Christ already outlined in Jesus' words to his disciples passed down to us - The Sermon on the Mount, caring for the least of these, love God and your neighbor, love one another as I have loved you - regardless of whether I'm a mother or a minister or a mogul or a mobster? Do I ask the wrong questions, like,"God, which house should I live in?" while God is going, "Feed the poor, love your neighbor, and quit worrying about houses!"? Maybe I complicate it by being "me minded" and not "kingdom minded". Maybe it was God's will to give my kids a sister and I was standing in the way. What do we do when our idea of God's will opposes someone else's? Who wins?

But, even then, I could still argue with myself and say there is a specific will and there are times I felt led by God to a specific place and time and person as well and looking back, I'm still sure of it.  Maybe God does both, tells us in Scripture not to worry about clothes and food and houses, but still leads us to the home that will help us be better stewards or have caring neighbors or whatever because we're human and we're often dumb and faithless and we just need help. This is all an example of my human limitations - I just don't know sometimes. Maybe if Adam and Eve had eaten from the other tree, we wouldn't have to worry about it. Who knows. But even in my blindsided, heavy doubt, I still chase God and try to figure out where I fit in His Kingdom. Maybe I need to learn something from my three kids before a BA in Psychology could help me in worship ministry. Again, who knows?

So what about limitations? We know we are limited - but what about God? Is He limited? Some say yes, others say no.

Consider the gift of free will. Is it a limitation?  Maybe. A limitation put on God by God himself and if so, is it really a limitation? Can't God overcome it whenever He wants? How could God be limited and sovereign?  Do the words "limitation" and" sovereign" mean to God what they mean to us? My best guess on that one is probably not.

I think the case could be made that Jesus got frustrated with the disciples because of this "self-limiting" - He obviously desired (willed?) for them to have more faith but he did not (could not?) force them. Again, where does sovereignty fit in? If Jesus was fully God and fully man, was he still sovereign? Scripture seems to teach that he was, he could've called down angels to deliver him at any point. But wasn't He still limited in some things? If not, why then would he cry over Jerusalem? It's an issue that has perplexed us for centuries.

The conclusion that we came to was that God is capable of speaking in many different ways and that we shouldn't be so quick to shut down someone simply because they hear from God differently than we do - but we must still use the plumb line of Scripture to determine if it seems like something God would say.  A little reminiscent of "judge not lest you be judged", with a healthy dose of "shrewdness" and "love" thrown in, don't you think?

Strike three, you're out?

Since we are now expecting child numero tres, I've been giving some major thought to discipline techniques. I really believe the key to effective discipline is love, respect, and consistency and I have such a hard time being consistent. I get frustrated and yell or discipline for a behavior that is simply annoying me when that behavior may simply be childish, but not wrong.  Even worse is when the behavior is perfectly normal and it's my stress level that's causing me to be annoyed and I yell anyway. Struggling with postpartum depression has not made this particular part of life any easier, but I am determined to try my best in preventing my own personal struggles from negatively affecting my children, if at all possible.

Our oldest is 4 1/2, she'll be 5 in July, and she's really been testing boundaries lately.  She's a lot like me in that she is very sensitive and her strongest love language right now is "words of affirmation", she needs to be told "Good job", "I love you", "I'm so proud of you", etc; but she can also be a tad stubborn and a little dramatic (she obviously gets that from my husband. Just kidding, that part is from me too...).  So the other day, I caught myself scolding her for the eleventy billionth time that day, and suddenly, I heard myself through her ears. I felt like I did nothing but gripe at her and I hated that, and if I feel that way, how is it making her feel? I was doing the exact opposite of what I know makes her feel loved. I knew that something had to change and that something was my attitude towards my daughter. This sort of behavior from an adult towards a child can be very damaging, not just in the moment, but in years to come - especially when that child needs love and words of affirmation like they need food and water.  Psychology has proven over and over that reward systems do a much better job of encouraging good behavior than constant negative comments or physical punishment, but I (and many others) still believe that we need to teach our kids about consequences as well, because the world certainly will when they're adults.  I've seen several posts on Pinterest that advocate consequence jars, which I think are a great idea, so I took the idea and modified it a bit for our family.  Here's a picture of what our system looks like:

The Strike Jar, the Good Job Treat Basket, and the Good Job Jar.

Many of the systems only include a consequence jar and one of the most popular consequences is having to do a household chore. I see household chores as a part of every day life and using them as a punishment can backfire, so I didn't include any chores in our "Strike!" jar.  I also think rewarding good behavior is just as important, if not more important, than disciplining bad behavior, so I've included a "Good Job!" jar in our system.  Basically anything that makes us spontaneously say, "Good job!!!" counts, whether that's taking a good nap at preschool or cleaning up her room without having to be asked.  Each jar works the same way: Get 3 "strikes" and you draw a consequence; get 3 "good jobs" and you draw a reward. Each jar includes three clips so that we can keep up with how many she has.  The basket in the middle is the "Good Job Treat Basket", there's several slips of paper in the "Good job" jar that allow for a choice from the basket, which is filled with all sorts of goodies.  I leave it out to serve as a reminder to think before we act. Other rewards in the jar are getting to go out for ice cream or a treat, or getting to rent a movie from Redbox. Some of the consequences we included are losing TV/iPad time, losing a toy for a few days, or losing a skirt (she LOVES wearing skirts to school, so this is a good motivator). There's also a few "grace" slips in the "Strike!" jar, that was the part of the whole idea that originally appealed to me.  These are the things that work for our family and they may not work for everyone, but reading a few examples helped me form my own. Since our daughter is only 4, I keep the rewards and consequences pretty immediate, otherwise, it loses it's effectiveness. As she gets older, I'll introduce letting her earn money to buy treats and other things like that in order to encourage patience and perseverance. 

Do you have a discipline system in place? How does it work for you?  Has it changed as your kids have gotten older?

Friends.

What is a friend? It's a good question. Is it someone who won't let you down?  Someone who won't betray you?  Perhaps it's someone who agrees with you or even someone who will disagree with you.  Maybe it's someone who will be honest with you, even if it hurts.  I really have no idea anymore. So many of these things are relative - what's honesty to you may be brutal and uncalled for to me.  I look at Facebook and I see all these people labeled as "friends" and it makes me think about what the word "friend" has come to mean in our culture. For instance, there are some folks I see a lot but I don't really know them at all - nor do they know me, but on Facebook, they're labeled as a "friend". There are some who I rarely get to see but it seems they know me better than I know myself. And then there are those that you can count on to always go on a political or religious rant with no thought on how their words will affect others (I'm guilty of this, I'm sure you are too) and you roll your eyes and keep scrolling.

Then there's the others, you know the ones...they're the relationships that you don't want to think about but still obsess over. The people that you thought you knew but now that there's been some distance, you realize one or both of you had on rose colored glasses.  Maybe it was a one way relationship, you thought you were great friends only to find out they never viewed you the same way.  Maybe you see pictures of a bridal shower or birthday party and think to yourself, "Really? No one thought about inviting me?" Then comes the harder question: "Why?"  Maybe you've had a falling out, feelings were hurt on both sides, and reconciliation seems like a pipe dream.  Perhaps you just grew apart, slowly, with no major fights or letdowns - you're just different people now.  I'm not referring to specific people in my own life as much as I'm referring to situations that happen to each of us, all the time.  Whatever the cause of these rifts - the result is hurt and if we're not careful, hurt leads to anger, and anger leads to bitterness.

When you start nearing 30, you start to realize that life does not go as planned.  Perhaps you're like me and you've suffered loss and depression and at your lowest point, a crisis of faith.  Perhaps you've suffered far greater pain, like losing a child or a parent, or are a victim of abuse.  Perhaps you or someone you know struggles with their sexuality or with an addiction and everyone you meet seems to offer their judgement and an easy fix instead of really listening or caring.  You start to realize how small your little part of the world really is and it's frightening.  You come face to face with your mortality and it scares you.  What do we make of all this?  How do we deal with it?

Kevin has been preaching a sermon series about those who shaped us in the faith and those who we are shaping.  How we're all "raw materials being shaped for good work", a reference to God as the Potter and his children as the clay.  At the beginning of the series, he and I sang a song titled "Search Me, Know Me". I've always loved this song and I've sung it countless times, but this time was different. This time, I felt every one of those words flow from the deepest, darkest part of my soul.

"Search me, know me, try me and see every worthless affection hidden in me.
All I'm asking for is that you'd cleanse me, Lord.
Create in me a heart that's clean, conquer the power of secret shame; come wash away the guilty stain of all my sin.
Clothe me in robes of righteousness, cover my nakedness with grace; all of my life before you, now, I humbly bring." (Words by Kathryn Scott)

The words that struck me most were "conquer the power of secret shame." I carry around the secret shame of depression and anxiety every day.  There are days that it seems like my soul weighs a million pounds. While my depression has improved somewhat, I am still in a time of immense struggle and I've given a lot of thought to what I need to do to put myself in a better place and I encourage you to do the same, wherever you are in your journey. For me, a big change I want to see is to stop being motivated by guilt and fear and instead be motivated by the Holy Spirit and good will.  I also want to stop pouring my energies into relationships and outlets that give me nothing in return - others' happiness is not my responsibility and too often, I try to make it my responsibility.  Those who have shaped me and those I am shaping- they are the ones who are deserving of my time and energy. My Lord, my husband, my children, my parents, my sister, my in-laws, my church, the friends and mentors who have proven themselves faithful - they are the most deserving. It's not that I don't love others, I most certainly do; but when I fret and worry and allow these other things to suck all the life out of me, there is nothing left for those I cherish most and who depend on me to be wholly present.

It saddens me to look behind me and see broken friendships - some my fault, some their fault, some both, some neither.  But I cannot continue to steep myself in feeling guilty over them when I have done what I can to make things right; the time has come to move on. How about you?  Do you need to move on?  Who needs you to be wholly present? Who has shaped you and who are you shaping? It's worth thinking about.

Let's talk about postpartum depression.

You may have noticed that I haven't written anything in a while. The truth is, my mind has been so jumbled that coherent thoughts were hard to come by. Why? Two words: Postpartum Depression.

It's really no surprise that PPD became an issue for me, I struggled with prenatal depression through both pregnancies and only avoided true PPD the first time because I was still on Zoloft. A while back, I decided that I wanted to actually attempt to heal my psychological wounds instead of just masking them, so (with the guidance of my therapist), I stayed off Zoloft after Jacob was born. Did I know that this increased my risk of PPD? Yes. Was it worth it? Now that I can see things more clearly, yes, I think it was because there are many deep wounds that have begun to heal. However, just because I wasn't on a medication doesn't mean that I ignored my depression or didn't seek treatment, I did. I continued to go to therapy and I let those close to me know what I was going through so when I seemed crazy and irrational, they would understand why - or at least begin to understand why.

Today, I'm writing to shed some light on what postpartum depression looks and feels like. I know I'm not the first and I will not be the last. If you are suffering from PPD, know this: you are not crazy, it will not last forever, and there is no shame to be had. You cannot control it anymore than someone can control cancer. You WILL feel normal again.  If you know someone suffering from PPD, know this: they are not crazy, it will not last forever, and YOU are one of most important components to helping this person recover.  I'm putting this in bold type because it is so very important: having a support system is one of the best things that anyone suffering from depression can have. Having someone to cling to when the pain takes over is of utmost importance. Everyone, at some point in their lives, needs help.

So now that we've covered that, let's talk about some of the stigmas and lies surrounding depression in general and why they are ridiculous.

Having depression does not mean you are crazy or broken.

Depression does not equal weakness.

Depression is not incurable, it does not last forever. It may recur, but it will not last forever.

Depression does not mean you are a terrible person or a terrible parent.

Depression does not define you as a person.  Much like having cancer or diabetes or multiple sclerosis, depression is something that can happen to you - but none of these things define you. They may be hereditary, they may be caused by a particular event or string of events, they may appear out of nowhere. Depression is the same way - it happens to you but it doesn't define you.

Did you know that some of the smartest and strongest people in history struggled with depression? Abraham Lincoln, Beethoven, Charles Dickens, Winston Churchill, and even Albert Einstein are all said to have struggled with depression throughout their lives. However, they also went on to accomplish great things despite their depression - and guess what - so can you!

Postpartum depression has many of the same effects as regular depression, but it is thought to be brought on by the hormonal changes that occur during pregnancy and childbirth. Many of the negative thoughts surround being a parent and your children - particularly the new baby.  Each person (and I say person because fathers can suffer from it as well) is different, but here are some of the symptoms I experienced: extreme sadness, intense rage, being incapable of logical thought, inability to concentrate, obsessive thoughts, sleep issues, panic attacks, crippling anxiety, feeling like I was the only person who could properly take care of Jacob while simultaneously being afraid of hurting him, feeling like the most horrible mother and person in the world, feeling as if the world and my family would be better if I had never been born, feeling desperately afraid that I would never be taken seriously again, being so afraid of the "mentally ill" label that I would deny myself honesty and treatment. If you've never experienced it for yourself, here is something I wrote after coming out of one of my worst episodes: 

"It takes over, like a wave; the intense pain, leaving behind the wreckage of my rationality and joy.  I only feel pain and sorrow and it hurts so deeply.  I never know what's going to set it off and I never know when it will abate.  When it hits, I feel so broken and spoiled, left to rot in a world that doesn't care.  It is the deepest pit imaginable.  First, I get angry and I hang onto the anger so desperately, because I know when I let go, I will fall and the pain will engulf me again.  Sometimes I don't know how many more times I can handle it, I just want it to go away.  I'm so ashamed to let anyone see me like this.  It's not fair to Kevin, me, our kids, our church - no one.  So I ask God, 'Why?  What is the reason?  Was my painful pregnancy and the fact that I didn't want another child not enough?  Why am I being punished?'  It often seems there are no answers.  It leads me to think that maybe I just deserve to feel this way.  I'm not sure actual hell could be any worse."

 Sounds like a load of fun and sunshine, doesn't it?

There are many people out there who don't understand it. There are even a few that deny its existence. These people will make you doubt yourself. They will make you feel crazy. But that's just it, they can only do that if you let them.  You cannot control other people and their actions, but you can control your reaction.  

"But how?" you may be asking. Well, here's the cool thing about our brains - many of the things we once believed to be "hard-wired" or unchangeable are actually more malleable than we thought. Through reforming habits and thought patterns, we can actually change our neuro-pathways and default them to be positive and uplifting instead of self-degrading. What's even more amazing is this can happen no matter what age you are or what issues you have, even people with severe autism can learn things like social skills and empathy (see, you can teach an "old dog" new tricks, he just has to want to learn them and it has to be done the right way). Scientifically, it has a lot to do with mirror neurons and such - I've done a lot of my own research and I encourage you to do your own and not just take my word for it - but what it means for us in the real world is this: healing is possible. Postpartum depression, in particular, responds very well to talk therapy. Talk therapy (cognitive therapy) helps us learn to "retrain" the way we think. All those little lies depression tells you about yourself and others (You're worthless, no one loves you, you're unloveable, you're broken, they're all out to get you) are just that - lies. Lies that are part of a disease that has happened to you but doesn't define you. And because it does not define you, you are still free to make up your own mind about what does define you.  Start by recognizing those feelings as they come and then tell yourself what you are going to do with those feelings. Here's what I like to do: "Right now, I am feeling very angry. I'm angry with myself and/or this person. I will not allow this anger to control me, but instead, I will do [A, B, or C] to help me calm down."  Sometimes, I just need a minute to breathe and acknowledge what I'm feeling and then put it away. Sometimes, I need to run to the store by myself and just have some quiet time. Sometimes, I need to call Kevin home from a meeting because the baby is screaming and I know that I cannot be rational about it. The key is having weapons in your arsenal that are so familiar to you that you begin to default to them instead of the depression, but you must learn to intervene early, before the feelings escalate. That was the hardest part for me - recognizing where these feelings were going before they get there.

When the depression first took over, I would get so angry. That anger would build and build and then all of the sudden, the bottom would drop out, and I would plunge into utter darkness. It happened over and over. Finally, I talked to my therapist and she told me the best way to combat this was to try controlling my thought patterns. Instead of saying "I can't handle this", to try saying instead, "I am feeling very stressed and I need some help." It took a while to get the hang of it, but slowly, I started to be able to intervene and control my symptoms before they spiraled out of control.  Depression is tough. When you're in the middle of an episode (and it is often very episodic) it feels like it will never end...and there's a strange comfort in that. You're angry and you hold onto that anger, you don't want to imagine not being angry. You're sad and you hold onto that sadness and you can't imagine not being sad.  This is what I had to learn to control and it was hard. Very, very hard. But that's also when the breakthrough came.  So today, I encourage you don't give up. Don't let the depression lie to you. Acknowledge it and put it in its place, it cannot control you if you don't let it.  You may need medication to help you through the worst of it, but don't let the medication mask issues that you need to deal with, it will only prolong your pain - believe me, I know from experience. Therapy is more expensive than medicine, it takes work and patience, and some people just need medication - but in most cases it is so worth the cost and the work, so if you need help, get help.

Above all, remember this: You are not crazy. You are not broken. You are not alone. You are loved by someone. You are loved by Someone. Depression is not forever.

Grace and peace to you all,

Andrea

  

Living in the present moment.

We've been having a bit of a 3 year old issue lately, perhaps you've encountered this yourself. I find myself having to repeat instructions 3 or 4 times to Karis, only to still have her not do what she's been asked. The problem is not that I'm not being clear - the problem is that she is not listening to me. Sure, she hears me, kinda, but the things already occupying her mind seem to drown me out. I realized that it's much the same way with God. I've heard people say, "Well God doesn't speak like he did in the Bible", but I beg to differ. In fact, it's a conceivable notion to think that since Pentecost, God speaks more. Not in a literally audible voice, but it might as well be, because it really is that clear. So why don't we hear him? Just like sheep recognize the shepherd's voice and a child knows his parents' voices, God's children know their Father's voice when he speaks. The problem is not that God doesn't speak, the problem is that we don't listen. The muddled mess that's going on in our heads often drowns him out. The way of God is not the thunder or the fire or the earthquake but the gentle whisper. As I've said before, He will not force Himself on you, to do so would go against free will. He longs for you, he beckons you, he stands outside your window with a boom box blaring a love song - but he does not force or coerce. God's love song to me lately has been "Live in the present moment."

About a week after I had Jacob, I realized that though I had brought my Zoloft (an antidepressant/anti-anxiety medication) with me to the hospital and back home, in the hubbub of having a newborn, I hadn't taken it for several days. Usually, I would've realized it soon before then, since the withdrawal effects (I mean "discontinuation syndrome" ...) reared their ugly heads about 48 hours after a missed dose, but this time it was simply seeing the bottle that made me realize I had gone so long without it. I had been on it since I was pregnant with Karis and had longed to be able to quit, but between me, my doctor, and my therapist, we knew that would be a long, challenging road better taken after Jacob was older. I wasn't sure what to do, I felt fine but I knew quitting cold turkey wasn't recommended, so I scheduled a meeting with my therapist and asked her advice. She told me if I was feeling good then I was fine not taking it. The reason quitting cold turkey isn't recommended is because of the withdrawal effects and the risk of a relapse if you stop taking it too soon, usually 6 months to a year after starting. It's easier to go back on if needed than it is to go back on just because and then come back off, so I took her advice. We're going on 5 weeks now and though I do get overwhelmed and stressed at times (what new mother doesn't), I haven't had a relapse.

So now what? As I've said before, HSP's have a neurological system that is biologically wired with a lower level of serotonin than most "normal" people. (I use quotes because that's such a relative term.) This means I will get stressed before others, I will feel pain before others, I will feel anxious and depressed in a situation that wouldn't affect others. But, it also means that I can experience immeasurable joy and purpose, things that were deadened by the meds. There's two sides to every coin. At this point in my life, through natural maturation and therapy and lots of prayer, I have healthy coping mechanisms in place and the best choice for me, right now, in this present moment, is to forego the meds.

We live in a world of seemingly perpetual horror. There's always a disaster lurking around the corner, whether its sickness or job loss, a hurricane or a flood, a bomb or a gun. Many of us live in perpetual fear of these disasters, constantly on guard against anything that can harm us or those we love. We struggle daily, hourly, to build walls of steel around us. "If I can just get this one last thing into place, I will finally be safe, because last time, I wasn't ready." This is a normal human reaction, if we can control it, it can't happen again, right? Well, no. Trouble is, we can only react to these things, we can't really prevent them. Haven't you heard the phrase "Where there's a will, there's a way"? On this old earth, there will always be deeply disturbed people, uncontrollable wind and water, deep hurt and searing pain. It really doesn't much matter what we do, we will never "stop" the evil. There's the matter of free will again. It's true that God has conquered, but the hurt is still very real. So what can we do? Should we not prepare? Should we not worry?

Yes. No. Maybe.

The only thing we can do is live in the present moment. Not just exist, but really live. Now, I'm not advocating being impulsive or "YOLO" type behavior born from stupidity or selfishness, I'm advocating what's called "mindful living".
Here's an example: Right now, there is not a crisis in my house. Both kids are sleeping, Kevin is smoking a pork shoulder, and I'm writing. Could I create a crisis? Sure I could. I could worry myself over whether or not this latest storm signals an active hurricane season. I could sit by Jacob's cradle and agonize over every breath. I could worry that someone will break in and hurt us. I could convince myself that Karis' inattentiveness means she'll do horrible in school. Or I could take a deep breath and live in this moment, this moment that simply is what it is. To feel the keyboard under my fingers, to see the sunshine glinting off the wet leaves outside, to smell the aroma of smoking meat, to hear the song of the birds. God HAS worked in the past and God WILL work in the future. But right now, in the present moment, God IS working, living, breathing, and yes, even speaking all around us. But unless we learn to really look and really listen - right now, in this moment - we will not be a part of it. Every part of life can be a prayer; a child's laugh, a beautiful sunset, a backyard BBQ, police officers running to protect innocent people and help the hurt. God speaks through ALL these things, but do we hear him? Are our eyes open?

When we first moved to Florida, we got a chance to see the space shuttle launch for one of the last flights in history. I did as any 20-something with a new smartphone would do, I got my phone out and turned on the video camera. The smoke billowed, the crowd roared, and I struggled to find the perfect angle, moving here and there, frustrated that no spot seemed perfect - until I looked away from the screen and into the sky and saw the brilliance there in front of me. We got another chance to see a launch a few months later, even President Obama was in town for this one, it was a big deal. However, this time, I let everyone else film it and I just stood and absorbed the beauty and awe and monumental-ness of the moment. I knew that anyone who wasn't there could see any number of the thousands of videos taken, most with a much better angle than I had - but I still had something they didn't have.

I was THERE.

Not just there - THERE, every sense ignited and participating. I felt the tremors of the millions of pounds of fuel burning, I saw the light that is so bright it's like looking at the sun. I smelled the ocean breeze and tasted the salt in the air. I heard the rumble of the shuttle, far after it had left my gaze.

So today, I ask you: Where will you be the next time God speaks? Will you be present, ready, anticipating? Or will you be lost in the past? Wandering and wondering in the future? Don't miss it. Today is the only day that will be today.

Cleaning house - a spiritual discipline?

There is a sign hanging outside my front door. It reads as follows: "If you came to see me, come any time. If you came to see my house, make an appointment." Now don't get me wrong, I like having a clean house, but I hate actually cleaning and de-cluttering. I mean I absolutely loathe it. One of the reasons is because I'm a tad OCD about some of the physical aspects. For instance, I hate it when water drips on me (especially if I'm wearing flip flops or barefoot) and I especially hate when my hands are wet and/or dirty and then they drip all over me, I want to just jump out of my skin. It's even worse when there's not a towel handy, it seriously makes me start to go a little psychotic. It's just not my thing. Need someone to create something artsy for you from scratch? I'm your girl. Need someone to give an impromptu speech or memorize a song and perform it? Call on me. Need something organized? Run far, far away from me.

So, besides being a little OCD (no offense to anyone who suffers from real OCD), why do I hate it so much? Mainly because I'm so bad at it. My brain just does not function in an organizational way, which has proven to be extremely frustrating throughout my life. Asking me to organize a stack of books or a bunch of files incites the type of horror in me that most people feel when they're asked to speak in front of a large group of people (How?! By color? Title? Author?? Height?? Thickness??? Gah!!!). Nevertheless, it's simply not an option to NOT clean my house, especially as a stay-at-home mom, so I've started searching for ways to help me get past the oogy-ness and embrace my inner June Cleaver. I started by thinking about what I'd rather be doing. In all honesty, I'd rather be focusing on some spiritual matter or a ministry issue and grappling with that instead....how do I incorporate that desire into cleaning? Suddenly, I had an idea. What if I could change my thinking to regard cleaning as something positive rather than negative...what if I could treat cleaning as I've treated other struggles in my life - as a spiritual discipline? As it turns out, this is not a new idea.

In Benedictine monasteries, each monk is required to perform kitchen duty on a regular basis. The reason for this is to invoke a sense of servant hood and humility in and to their fellow brothers. This strikes a chord with me since my husband's "love language" is acts of service. In other words, washing his car means way more than buying him that new Rolex. Furthermore, we have scriptures like Colossians 3:23 (among various other passages) that say things like this:

" Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters."

So, in an effort to become more like Jesus and serve my family in humility and thankfulness, I will be practicing my various household tasks as a spiritual discipline, committing time each day until it becomes a habit. I have discovered that once I get started on a task, it's not hard to finish, as long as I don't allow myself to become distracted. Yikes! That's a hard one... I also figured putting on my blog would help keep me accountable.

That being said, tell me your opinion: would you rather sing a solo in church or clean your toilet?