Depression, Purpose and Waiting on Life: An Advent Confession

This blog is dedicated to my little sister, Brandy. I may not always be able to give you awesome things, but all that I have is the example of my life, and I hope that facing my own fears and letting my own light shine will give you permission to do the same. 

Sometimes, facing the fear is facing the darkness inside yourself. 

For the last year or so, I've battled with what some would call depression. I say some because I am no expert on the matter, nor have I received any official diagnosis of being depressed. But I have felt it, like a fog that rests on your conscience; you're not really sure what lies ahead or even behind and you feel paralyzed and unmotivated to embark on such a quest of discovery. I feel it even now as I write this, but writing this confession is all I could bring myself to do in the midst of work to be done and PhD applications to be completed. I hope and pray that this written confession helps me to not only face that fear in myself, but to take the steps to overcome it.

It's a long way down from here

Graduation 2014: The sky's the limit!

June of 2014 was the best and scariest time of my life thus far. I was graduating from seminary with a degree I've wanted for a long time but allowed outside voices of discouragement allow me to forget. I also just finished a term as student body president and had amazing experiences that only solidified and confirmed my dream of running an institution of similar nature. I was happy, I had purpose and the possibilities were endless. This statement ironically was also the very reason for my fear. Everyone wanted to know what was next for me in my journey and many shared high hopes and aspirations, some even higher than my own. It was a shock to some then, when I decided to stay and take a job at the school I attended. They thought my reasoning for taking something that would be a stable transition as I prepared to apply for PhD programs was a noble one, but feared that I would "get stuck" as the saying went in those circles. I acknowledged their fear as one of my own, but assured them that this would not be the case. I still had a plan, and I would not deter from it.

The beginnings of the job proved difficult for many reasons I shall not discuss here, but I found that it was not just the circumstances of my employment that proved hard: I was tired and I failed to take a moment to stop and breathe. By the end of the year I questioned my decision; I postponed my PhD applications another year to give myself some space and rest, but I was not sure of how to accomplish either. By the beginning of 2015 the stress of work, relationships, and other responsibilities weighed on me to no end, and I would find myself crying most days, for no particular reason at all.

Depression or Circumstance?

"I don't think you are depressed, I think it's just circumstantial. Let's see how you feel after this blows over." 

These were the words of a friend who I'd just told that I thought I was depressed. It was March by this time, and the weighing down that I felt was more than just the emotional cycle of PMS. I did not have words for what I was feeling, so my lack of vocabulary lead me to conclude that I was depressed. But she was right. I was in the midst of circumstance that felt like "trouble on every side" and I felt that any confidence I had left had been ripped out of me at that point. Maybe my "depression" was just my natural reaction to going through a hard time in life. And besides, people were starving and without, black male bodies were lying dead in the street for no reason other than fear, and millions were being exploited all around the world; in perspective my life didn't seem so bad. And even still, there were real people out there dealing with real depression to the point that they couldn't get out of bed or that their lives were completely changed so who was I to compare myself to this? This was also true, but none of this made me feel any better. In fact, it made me feel worse, as I only felt guilt and shame for feeling this way when others had circumstances more dire than mine.

By the Fall of 2015, circumstances had changed (somewhat), but the fog still remained. I felt paralyzed to accomplish the things I knew to be the right path for me. I tried to grab hold of things that brought me life. They did, but even still it was hard to focus on getting them done. I struggled to engage in things I loved, and only felt at peace by distracting myself with social media, arbitrary mobile games and Netflix. I struggled to remember who I was; I doubted myself in every way and when I did fail at something, I used that as ammunition for a battle where I was both victor and the defeated. I isolated myself from people. I became flaky, not following through on what I said, and I wondered if the paths I thought were right were right for me. From my perspective I became unpredictable in mood; if I wasn't oversharing, I was isolating. I was not myself, and people noticed.

Purpose Driven Life
I have never read the Purpose Driven Life, but it sure felt like I was living it. Since the beginning of my seminary career (and even before) I based my life on the purpose I would accomplish. My life was dictated by what I thought to be my purpose, and my purpose dictated by what I thought to be my vocation. "You want to be a writer? Get an MFA and go write." "You want to be a theologian and artist? Get your MDiv." "Oh you want to teach, then you must get your PhD" and so on and so on. My life was dictated by what I wanted to be, but I never stopped to think of who I actually was.

Called by Mark Labberton

I recently read Called by Mark Labberton and had the honor of teaching a course on calling at New City Church of Los Angeles where I attend. There, we learned that calling wasn't about what you wanted to be when you grew up but about receiving and living the love of Christ for yourself and others. My life was driven on accomplishing a task, it was driven by becoming. But my calling was not driven by becoming; it rested on being. For this entire year or so I've been focused on becoming, but I didn't know how to just be. I lost myself because I was working so hard to find it, and like quicksand I sank deeper with every struggle. But I realized that in his ever present patience, God was waiting for me to tire myself out all along. And as I write to you now, I realize that I am tired. I was always tired; tired of trying to figure out next steps, tired of fighting for change when it didn't seem to be coming, tired of believing I was something I wasn't.

Waiting here for You

So here I am now: tired, depressed (though undiagnosed) and waiting. I am not out of this place that I have resided. I still struggle with the same doubt, the same fear. I still find it extremely difficult to focus though time is merciless and application deadlines are approaching and work never ceases. I turn 33 in a week and a half and I don't feel like celebrating. For the first time, it just feels like another day. And yet, I will celebrate (mostly because my friends offered to take me to dinner) and I will finish my applications (mostly because no one should have to endure the GRE and have nothing to show for it) and I will find my calling place, where I can learn to receive and life the love of Christ.

But I wonder if there are others who are like me, who deal with these low seasons of life and isolate rather than turn to community. I wonder if others have people to talk to when some in their community and family don't understand what it means to be depressed. I personally have been blessed with a diverse community of people who understand these things and are willing to walk with me through them (whether I like it or not). I am grateful to have resources for therapy and spiritual direction, as well as mentors and friends who will encourage me. But mostly I am grateful for a God who is present with me in the valley of waiting. He understands what it means to wait and to be expected. He will teach me to rest in being. He will teach me to wait. And he will come.

Prayer STILL changes things

A few years ago I embarked on a personal project I called "a prayer a day." For this project, I wrote down all the names of friends and people that I knew, cut those names into strips and placed them in a jar. Each day I pulled a name and prayed for that person throughout the day. Sometimes I wouldn't tell the person that I was praying for them that day, other times I was able to share my project with the individual. Several things resulted from this:

1. I prayed more (go figure). I didn't stop praying for other things (events that would happen, or for myself) but by allowing myself to focus on a person I prayed more throughout the day.

2. I focused more on others: This time allowed me to shift my focus from my own problems to other people. By considering others, and choosing to pray for and bless them I experienced less stress and actually was less concerned with my own "stuff."

3. Deepening of relationships: by reaching out to others and praying for them, I was able to catch up with old friends, reconcile relationships and connect deeper to community.

All that to say, it wasn't a bad idea.

In fact, prayer is NEVER a bad idea. I am a firm believer that prayer changes things and have been so blessed and surprised when I get a note/text/message from a friend saying "thinking and praying for you today." There is something about being seen and being known (both by God and by those in our community) that changes our outlook on a situation, even if the situation itself has not changed.

So I've decided to do it again! But to do this, I need people to pray for.

If you would like to be included in the prayer list just do one of the steps below:

FACEBOOK FRIENDS: Send me a private message or respond to this post by liking the link or commenting in the comment section. If you want to be on the list but do not want to be notified if you are chosen for that day simply put "do not contact" behind your name.

TWITTER FRIENDS: Send me a private message or click "favorite" and I will add you to the list. If you want to be on the list but do not want to be notified if you are chosen for that day simply put "do not contact" in a response tweet.

OTHER FRIENDS: Simply reply to this post in the comments section. If you want to be on the list but do not want to be notified if you are chosen for that day simply put "do not contact" behind your name.

One person will be chosen everyday and notified (if they want to). If you are chosen, please feel free to send me prayer requests, praise reports or an update on your life!

I hope this time around I am able to connect to those in my community. I pray that we see major change for the better!

An apple a day may keep the doctor away, but #APrayerADay has more power than we think!

Numb

The words of familiarity wash over her like the river washes over granite.
She, too, has become hardened, etched by the constant pounding,
The constant news.
     Another life lost.
     Another senseless shooting.
In the history of her soul she wonders when the shackles will return.
She looks and sees that they never left.

It is morning so she goes about her normal routine.
She makes breakfast,
fixes her hair,
prepares herself for work.
Outside a flag waves,
full staff,
in defiant recognition.
     Although sacrifices have been made
     change is never gonna come.

She picks up her bible
and clutches it to her heart.
She wonders how much longer
before the last ounce of hope is broken.

Forgiveness on the Menu

Found an old sermon assignment from my Creative Preaching class. It helped me today so I thought I'd share it.

To the God who goes before us,
Thank you that the paths you create for us are paths of justice. This is not the violent justice we perceive; the kind that vindicates our victim mentality or reinforces our need to be right. But the kind of justice that does not forsake a repentant change of heart, the kind that is bigger than our need to be right and goes deeper than the hurt that resulted from the wrong. Thank you that this justice leads to peace; not just any peace, but a peace that passes all understanding. Amen

     It was everything he could do not to burst into tears in front of them. Here he was, Joseph, second only to Pharaoh in all the land of Egypt, and all he felt like doing was weeping like a helpless babe. When he looked at the men in front of him, particularly the one who pleaded to serve the punishment of his brother, it was all he could do to not fall apart. He had waited for this moment for what seemed like a lifetime. And now here he was, standing in front of his brothers. His brothers; the very same brothers who threw him into the pit, and left him to die, changing their minds only long enough to sell him into slavery. The very same brothers who he thought about while serving a jail sentence; a sentence served despite his innocence or good behavior. The very same brothers he never thought he would see again. How long had it been since he'd seen them? Too long some would say, but if time had any healing powers, it certainly wasn't strong enough to heal a wound this deep. And when healing is postponed, resentment is inevitable. 

     But even in the midst of the process, God was faithful to Joseph, and Joseph was obedient to God. God protected Joseph, provided for Joseph, and promoted Joseph. And throughout it all, Joseph submitted to God. But at the moment that Joseph saw his brothers, at the moment that they bowed to him, fulfilling the dream of the binding sheaves; he knew that God was asking him to do something more than he thought was humanly possible. Even in his Godly obedience, he did not think he was ready to let go. If he was honest with himself, he wanted justice. Yes, God made good on his life despite being abandoned by his brothers, but that was not justice, that was irony. Justice was the looks on their faces when they realized that the one they abandoned was the one they now depended upon. Justice was the bullet engraved with the words “I told you so” stuck in the back of his throat, ready to shoot out in an arc that penetrated the temples of each of them. Maybe it would pierce him too. Maybe irony and justice had more in common than he thought. 

     But remembering his call to obedience, if but only to God, he decided to bite that bullet, and hold his tongue. God was up to something, what it was he did not know, not yet, but God hadn’t let him down this far. So instead of outing his brothers he demanded they bring his younger brother, Benjamin, and once they complied he decided to test them, hiding his cup in Benjamin’s bag. They would be caught; of course, Benjamin accused and then abandoned much like he was. Surely they would not come to the aid of a thief, but would leave Benjamin to his punishment, and run home to father with some story of how Benjamin was dead. 

     But as Joseph stood, looking in the eyes of his brother Judah, he realized that everything changed. His brothers did not flee, they stood. Not only did they stand with their brother Benjamin, they stood in front of him. They protected him, and vowed to take his place. They did the very thing they did not do for him and he could tell that they wished they had.  After over 20 years of marinating in this memory and anticipating this very moment, everything in Joseph broke. He thought his life as simply ironic; but he had no idea to what degree it was planned. He had a desire for justice to be served. Turns out God only had forgiveness on the menu. So he found himself at a crossroads; turn his nose up on the foreign dish placed in front of him and demand for what he craved, or partake of the delicacy made by the master chief who partook of it first. 

     Dismissing his servants from the room, he broke down and wept; his truth barely escaping his lips, his brothers too afraid of his presence to ask him to repeat himself. How did Joseph respond? Let us turn to scripture to find out: 

Then Joseph said to his brothers, ‘Come closer to me.’ And they came closer. He said, ‘I am your brother Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. And now do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to preserve life. For the famine has been in the land these two years; and there are five more years in which there will be neither ploughing nor harvest. God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here, but God; he has made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house and ruler over all the land of Egypt. Hurry and go up to my father and say to him, “Thus says your son Joseph, God has made me lord of all Egypt; come down to me, do not delay. You shall settle in the land of Goshen, and you shall be near me, you and your children and your children’s children, as well as your flocks, your herds, and all that you have. I will provide for you there—since there are five more years of famine to come—so that you and your household, and all that you have, will not come to poverty.” And now your eyes and the eyes of my brother Benjamin see that it is my own mouth that speaks to you. You must tell my father how greatly I am honoured in Egypt, and all that you have seen. Hurry and bring my father down here.’ Then he fell upon his brother Benjamin’s neck and wept, while Benjamin wept upon his neck. And he kissed all his brothers and wept upon them; and after that his brothers talked with him. When the report was heard in Pharaoh’s house, ‘Joseph’s brothers have come’, Pharaoh and his servants were pleased. (Genesis 45:4-16) 

We often hear this story of Joseph’s response to his brothers and think this was possible because Joseph was such a good guy. But I think in doing that we fail to realize the humanity of Joseph. Surely Joseph struggled with forgiving his brothers, no matter how his life turned out. Forgiveness is never an automatic transaction, no matter what situation the victim finds themselves in. I would imagine that it would be much harder for Joseph to choose forgiveness when ‘I told you so’ was so obvious. It’s like the time I was hosting a dressy event and ran into my ex-boyfriend, who I hadn't seen in 6 years. I went over to tell a friend who responded, “This is the perfect time for you to run into him because you look fabulous!” We all want that right? We all want to be at the top of our game when we encounter those that hurt us. It would've been completely different if I would have run into him while walking home from boot camp; all sweaty and looking like a hot mess. But would I be able to bite that bullet engraved with "I told you so" and make him feel welcomed? Forgiveness becomes most powerful when you have all the power in the room and you lay it down for the sake of hospitality. 

     Like Joseph we too have to face similar crossroads of forgiveness. Life presents it to us in interesting ways. What usually happens is we start with an event, or a person that has wronged us. For Joseph it was his brothers, for me it was my ex-boyfriend. The memory of that event stays with us, no matter how our lives turn out, and an encounter with that person will more than likely bring up feelings you felt during your last encounter. It is here that you are presented with two choices. You can choose to hold on; which can prevent or prolong the healing process and cause resentment to fester, or you can choose to let go, which allows the healing process to take its course and also opens you up to God's work. 

     You know, this is not the last time that Judah (or a descendant of Judah rather) offers to take the place of another’s punishment. Generations after this story takes place, we find Christ offering the same sacrifice. But what’s interesting about this story is that he is both Judah and Joseph; he is both the one who is wronged unjustly and the one who sacrifices himself for the sake of peace. Even in the midst of wrongdoing, he laid down his power for the sake of hospitality; welcoming us into fellowship with him in spite of our offences. What is the result? It’s the same result that was experienced by Joseph and his brothers. When Pharaoh and his household heard, they rejoiced, or, as the message bible puts it; they heard the good news. 

     Often times we have a desire for justice to be served. Turns out God only had forgiveness on the menu. So, like Joseph we find ourselves at a crossroads; do we turn our nose up on the foreign dish placed in front of us and demand for what we crave, or partake of the delicacy made by the master chief who partook of it first. 

Sitting in Saturday

He opened his eyes, just enough to squint, and tried to prepare his mind for the reality that would hit him soon after waking. He could still feel the heat on his hands from the fire just hours before. Over and over again he heard the sound of the rooster crowing, as those moments of his memory clung to him, like reckless children who refused to accept that their time of rest had come. "Aren't you one of them?""Surely you were with him!""Don't you know this man?"He sat up, as the moments of the last 24 hours flooded his conscience without mercy. He is dead. Yet he could still remember those words, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. If you believe in God also believe in me." He is really dead. Yet, he could feel the coolness of the water on his feet as they were being washed, the roughness of the bread on his tongue, the sweet bitterness of the wine..."Do this in remembrance of me."And now, he is dead. He took a deep breath, and tried to hold onto the scent of his beloved; to bury himself in his garments as he once did, head to bosom, listening to the heartbeat and breath of the one who had the words of life. But now, he is dead. And there only remained the stench of blood and ripped flesh and the cry of being forsaken. Peter felt the bitterness suddenly rush to the back of his throat, and barely made it out of his bed in time. Afterward he rinsed his mouth, threw water on his face and wept. 

I saw this image on my Facebook newsfeed and thought, "What a privilege that statement is for us who live on this side of the resurrection." How easy must it be for us to have faith already knowing the end of the story? How quickly do we move to the celebration without stopping to realize what we are in fact celebrating.

Jesus died.
For us.
He took on the weight of the world's sin for all time and died a death at the hands of the ones he came to save.

BUT THEN!....

Wait, lets just wait right here.

Yes, He rose, but why is it so hard to sit in Saturday?  To live in that space of void where Jesus is dead?

Saturday is not simply about getting ready for Sunday in anticipation, although there is a part of it. Saturday is first acknowledging the void, of waking up to the painful realization of a world without Christ. It is acknowledging the darkness, and thereby acknowledging the need that allows us to receive and celebrate in the fullness of joy.

There are areas in our lives, whether we'd like to admit it or not, where Jesus is dead. There is so much bitterness, pain, hurt, and strife in those areas that we refuse to receive the resurrection power of Christ. There is indeed a void.

So sit in the darkness. Acknowledge it. Let its reality be the starting and launching point for your anticipation of faith. Yet, it is hard to bear, but there is something about finding the courage to look death in the face and say, "I see you. I know you. But you are not the end..."

Letting it go for Lent...letting it go for good.

So this year I am giving up Anxiety for Lent. It's day two, and I am realizing just how difficult that really is. Nothing more to say about this really, but I thought I'd share the process with my readers. I recommend it, not just for lent, but as a continual practice. Below are the steps I took. 

My process on the practice of letting go...

1. On a sheet of paper, write down things that bring you anxiety, worry or stress. This can be things like relationships, job, etc. In addition, write down desires, plans and longings that you have. 

2. Place this sheet of paper in a chest/box/safe and put away. This represents you letting go of whatever you have written. Imagine that you are giving it to God, laying it aside, no longer claiming it as part of your mental space. 

3. On another piece of paper, write down a prayer, poem, scripture, quote, etc that speaks to your letting go of your worry, anxiety or stress. You can write one general one, or use different ones that represent different types of worry. Feel free to use words written by others, but be sure to write your own words. 

4. For the next 40 days (or however long), pay attention to those times when stress arises. Where are you in that moment? What are you doing? Who are you around/speaking to? What are you thinking about? This will help you to identify the reason behind your worry. Every time you feel stress or anxiety arise, read the prayer/scripture/poem/quote aloud. If you have different responses for different types of worry, be sure to read the corresponding response. 

5. Keep a journal on your experience. How does this process affect you physically, emotionally, and mentally? If you are being triggered by places, or people especially, then this could be a good time of process and forgiveness. 

6. Use other means to relax and release stress. Working out is great for this. I personally love any engagement in the arts. Singing, dancing, painting, etc are great ways to learn to let go. Some of my favorites are:

     a) doing yoga/stretches while singing a psalm/song/scripture    
     b) painting on a buddha board (you can find it here)     
     c) deep breaths      
     d) writing in a journal      
     e) karaoke

7) Give back. Pray for others. Be a servant. Give a compliment. Read poetry. Send flowers for no reason to a person you are not in a romantic relationship with. Hug a stranger. Make a friend. You will be surprised at how much energy you were giving to your worry. 

Let me know your thoughts on this. Does it work for you? 

A Honest Moment...

I taught a writing workshop this past weekend and talked about honesty in writing. That we should learn to be honest with ourselves and with God. That, after all, is the basis for this blog. So, as I was finishing up writing letters to my pen pals, I started writing this without even noticing it. As I typed, I knew it was something to post, as well as an invitation to others to share their own honest moments. 

The idea came to me after I saw a blogger ask their followers to share what they call the "100% truth." While I think that is helpful, I'm not going to ask you to share your "truth." I just want you to be honest. Honesty doesn't always translate into truth. Sometimes we feel things about ourselves and others that are just not true. Sometimes we know these to be false, but we still believe them, and being honest with ourselves can help to bring that out. I told the women in my workshop that the statements of our honesty need not be permanent. In fact, I hope some of them are never permanent. I sure hope what I have written below isn't. But honest moments open us up to allow the Spirit to reveal a new truth to us. How can we receive the truth of God's love for us if we are not honest with ourselves about the fact that we don't deserve it? How can we honestly receive love from others if we are not honest about the fact that we push it away because we think we haven't earned it? So read my honest moment below. Comment if you wish. Share your own honest moments if you are so brave and feel comfortable. But most of all, know that honesty is important to helping us get to the truth of our lives...

I wish to begin this with a confession.
I am addicted to fear.
Not in the sense that I like horror stories or roller coasters, but in the sense that I do not know how to live if I don't feel it. It is the adrenaline to my compliancy.  I am not sure if addiction is the right word, but it is the only one that comes to mind.
What am I most afraid of you ask?
Myself.
I am afraid of the darkest and brightest parts of me. I am afraid that things will go right. I am also afraid that things will go wrong. So I stay in the grey, and I live off of the fear of both circumstances, living a paralyzed life as if one was a feeding tube and the other a breathing machine. I situate myself in the contemplation of the decision because I am too afraid of the pain and too ashamed of the joy that could be its result.

This is my honest moment. This does not mean that I write this having it all figured out, but that this is the honest I can be in this moment. At this time.

What about you? What’s your “honest moment?” Feel free to share.