What no one ever talks about....

It seems like an unspoken understanding that we should avoid this topic. Not sure why. I’ve never been told not to address it or share my story involving it, but I’ve assumed people don’t want to hear about it.  Perhaps because it’s controversial. But the longer I serve and minister the more I find out that most everything is controversial in today’s world.

I guess it’s also awkward. For example… how do you “non-awkwardly” but honestly answer the question when someone asks how you’re doing:

Well I started going to counseling because I’m overwhelmed with my life…

 so that’s new.

Or maybe…

Well I started taking anti-depressants because I’ve been diagnosed with depression… so that’s new.

Or maybe…

My doctor diagnosed me with SAD- Seasonal Affective Disorder- which causes extreme exhaustion and depression-like symptoms… so that’s new.

Depression isn’t easy. Depression isn’t fun. Depression isn’t talked about. I know good people… good Christian people who have suffered from and are suffering through depression, but many feel they that must do so with silence and with solitude.

For me, however, depression isn’t a new term. Someone close to me in junior high and high school suffered from “something”. Her parents tried everything: praying with her every night, taking her to spiritual counseling, finding an exercise plan, but nothing seemed to be able to snap her out. Finally, they took her to a doctor. He diagnosed Hannah with having something called depression- the medical kind. Not something derived from a spiritual issue like an unconfessed sin, but the kind that is caused by something within your brain- the kind that is caused by your brain’s interaction or lack thereof with certain chemicals.

I’m not a doctor, so I’m not going to attempt a more specific explanation. If you want one, talk to your own doctor.

Regardless, Hannah told me what her doctor told her those many years ago, and it’s something that neither she nor I have ever forgotten.

He said, “Hannah, going on medication for depression isn’t something to be embarrassed about or question. Just as if you would take medicine for pneumonia to improve your condition, you can take medicine for this type of depression to improve your condition. The medicine won’t change who you are, it will allow you to become who you were meant to be.”

Years later, I studied psychology in college. One of my professors did a series on psychology and spirituality. His point was that all truth is God’s truth, and although we wouldn’t go to our pastors to diagnose our bronchitis or staph infection, so often we expect our pastors to diagnose mental illnesses. I thought back to what Hannah’s doctor had said. Her depression was a physical condition that happened to be a mental one as well. But therein is the controversy. How do you know when you need to see a counselor? How do you know when you need to talk to a pastor? How do you know when you need to see a doctor? What about the people trying to avoid admitting to their spiritual sin (that is causing depression) and so they start taking medicine to keep their lifestyle of sinful choices?

I don’t know all the answers. I can tell you that most of us aren’t equipped to make those judgment calls about other people. Or maybe even ourselves. Perhaps the simplest advice I've heard, but also the best, is to start with the Lord and work out from there.

My journey for help began when I finally admitted to myself that I was different. Easy things in life had become overwhelming. Comments that I would have previously laughed off now caused me great tears and heartache. More tears came out of my ducts than I knew existed. I was exhausted. All. Day. Long. No matter how much sleep I got.

I convinced myself it was just stress. I’ve never handled stress well. I told myself I was the only one noticing anything. And I was just paranoid. Overreacting. Exaggerating.

Then one day I finally broke down and talked to my mom about how overwhelmed I was. She said gently “Holly, this isn’t you. You used to be able to cope. I think it’s time you talked to someone.”  My fiancé (yes, this was all during my engagement) very tenderly agreed when I told him our conversation later that night.

So I made an appointment with a Christian counselor and went the next week. And have thanked the Lord for that day so many times. This counselor eased my fears and paranoia. She confirmed that my reaction and lack of coping ability wasn’t due to some weakness of my personality. She asked my questions about my life and my spiritual walk. She gently gathered if there might be any sin I was engaging in but refusing to confess.

After filling out extensive background info and talking for over an hour, she directed me towards a doctor. She explained to me that on the basis of my answers regarding my faith, my life, and loved ones, it sounded like I was battling a medical form of depression often triggered by major life changes, of which I had quite a few in a short period of time.

For the first time, hope burgeoned inside me about my situation. I wasn’t crazy. I really was going through a hard time.  It won’t be forever.

But I then began to worry about her suggestion. On the one hand, I clung to the possibility that there could be a way to help me cope. But on the other hand- I’m engaged. Is going on anti-depressants going to mess up my whole world? What will my fiancé think?

That night we talked. And he was completely on board with whatever I wanted to do or felt comfortable with.  He just wanted me to feel like myself again. I was so thankful and relieved, but still needed to talk to one more person.

I called my friend Hannah. I knew she would give it to me straight. She did. “Holly, you keep telling yourself that you can work through this on your own. That when the stress of wedding-planning is over, you’ll bounce back. Holly, life will always be stressful. Being a newlywed is awesome, but stressful. Being in ministry is stressful. Life. Is. Stressful. Try the medicine- if it does work, you’ll be in a much better place on your wedding day. And don’t you want that?”

Her words were the final blow. So I went to the doctor who agreed with the counselor. I started taking an anti-depressant.

And I became myself again. I began to cope. To be able to focus for long-periods of time. To find laughter in little things. To not be overwhelmed by life for most of my day.

·         Am I saying that every person who has depression-like symptoms should be on medicine? No.

·         Am I saying that every person who is depressed has a medical condition? No.

·         Am I saying that we as Christians need to stop hiding this issue in our worlds? Yes.

·      Am I saying that as a Christian, I benefited from counseling and from medicine, both separately and simultaneously? Yes.

·         Am I saying that I believe some can suffer from depression caused through spiritual issues and some through physical issues? Yes.

So why do I tell you this story?
Why keep quiet for so long and then break the silence now?

Because over the past few months, I have met, talked to, and cried with so many of you. So many who are fighting a battle bigger than themselves. And you feel like you must fight it alone. And have been doing so for months. Weeks. Years.

And many of you, like me, just keep telling yourself, I’ll get through this. I just got to get through the next 3 months and then life will slow down. Besides, if my family finds out, they’ll think I’m being ridiculous.  If my friends find out, they’ll think I’m a psycho. I could never go to a “shrink”- my life isn’t that bad.

Sisters, hear me. If that is you- if you read my story and your heart resonated with my words, reach out for help. Let this year, this month, begin differently.

·     It might be that confessing your sin to God and to a mentor is what’s necessary for you to connect with God and find joy again.

·         It might be that telling your mom will be enough to lift the weight.

·         It might be that talking to a counselor for a few weeks will be enough to change the direction of 2015 from dismal to joyous.

·         It might be that talking to a doctor will give you the chance to become yourself again.

You may not know which path will lead you to your answer-but reach out anyways. This battle is not meant to be fought alone.

Don’t you want that hope? That peace? That relief?

Talk to someone. Keep talking until you find answers. I did. And found hope.

You can too.

In Him,

Holly

Un-Merry Christmas

For the past couple of weeks, I've been reminded almost daily that although the world is shouting Happy Holidays and the radio sings “It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” for many of us, Christmas time does not mean a merry time. For some, in fact, quite the opposite rings true.

For in this period, it seems natural and automatic even to expect life to be awesome. Plans to go perfectly. Storms to wait until the spring. And loneliness to disappear.

But. It. Doesn't.

Rather- plans explode. Storms crash. Loneliness rages. Life hurts.

What do we do now? Although some days I seriously want the option of painting my face green and hanging a sign above my door “Just call me Grinch,” or curling into a fetal position and pulling a blanket over my head until January 5^th, neither of those possibilities are actually feasible. 

There’s a Christmas song in which the lyrics struck me deeply last week as I was seeking answers.

“Light your world, let the love of God shine through
In the little things you do, light your world
And though your light may be
Reaching only two or three, light your world…”

By the grace of God, (truly) I was able to witness this first-hand this past week.  It’s been a tough week. A lot of ups and downs of all different sizes and varieties, but this week, my husband decided that his “light” would reach my world. And as he went above and beyond to extend the love and the grace of Jesus to me, living out Matthew 5:16*, I then found that my light began to grow stronger. I glorified the Father because of my husband.

*Matthew 5:16  Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.

Towards the end of the week, God gave me the grace to extend my light to a sweet elderly widow who lives in the midst of a very difficult time herself. She lives alone, in a small apartment where her visitors are rare. She used to cook and laugh with a sparkle and spunk, but the heartache of being forgotten has dulled the sparkle and halted the spunk.

Her happiness from my visit paled, however, in comparison to my gratefulness that God let me be the one who was able to bring her such joy. And a realization dawned- my difficulties hadn’t lessened. The hardships and trials were still staring me down, but for the first time that week, I chose not to stare back. Instead, I looked around them to find ways to help this widow laugh. 

It’s amazing how much joy your own heart discovers when you’re 

on the hunt to find joy for someone else.

As I drove away, I listened to that Christmas song again and thought “No wonder we are called to let our light shine! In helping someone else, she was encouraged, I was blessed, and God was glorified."  

Sometimes I don't have the strength to light the world. But this week I learned that I can light a world. And that was enough.

And though your light may be… Reaching only two or three, light your world…

John 8:12  Then spoke Jesus again to them, saying, 

I am the light of the world: he that follows me shall not walk in darkness,
but shall have the light of life. 

How NYC stole my Christmas magic:

Every Thanksgiving morning:

I wake up, literally run downstairs, make sure the TV is turned on with Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade  coming through loud and clear, and then head to the kitchen to ice my mom’s homemade cinnamon roll.

It’s been that same morning every Thanksgiving for as long as I can remember. Every time I’m home on Thanksgiving, that is what happens. It’s like there’s something magical about the Macy’s Parade.

So this year, when my husband and I realized we had two free SW flights in our reward account, we started working on our vacation budget…. And much to my shock and overwhelming EXCITEMENT…. We booked flights to NYC for Thanksgiving Week so we could see the Macy’s Parade (and NYC in general)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Magical.  That’s what I expected every second to be. Because that’s what every Christmas movie in NYC declares as reality. The soft snow flittering down, the street-corner shops filled with hot chocolate and cupcakes; the skating rinks with happy couples swirling around; and yes, the parade goers laughing and smiling joyfully as the camera scans the crowd.

Freezing.  Raining. Puddles. Disrespectful Crowds.

Teeth-chattering, bones aching, frost-biting cold.

That’s what we encountered.  Magical was not in the word bank.

Don’t get me wrong, part of our week was beautiful with sunny skies and beautiful weather. But the parade: the life-long tradition of magic, Macy’s Parade was most definitely not.

When the parade started, I kept waiting… waiting for that magic feeling of warmth and Christmas and Holiday Cheer to spread over me.  We left the parade and I still was waiting. It never came.

As we headed back to Texas, I began feeling disappointed and frustrated. What was wrong with me that I wasn’t on top of the world back there?!?! I was in NYC for 4 days and watching the Parade on Thanksgiving morning!!! It was a life-long dream come true. But there were moments, minutes, hours even, that it didn’t feel like I was living my dream.

And I began to realize…..

As an adult, Christmas will never be as magical as it was a child- even when I desperately wish it to be. Life, in fact, will never hold the same magic as it did as a 7 year old girl. 

And this trip taught me that is ok. Because even though the holiday magic never swept over me, when I stopped bemoaning that fact, I realized something far greater was already in my heart that would never need a magical fuzzy to accompany it. 

Why? I had Joy!

Joy over the true cause for celebration: Jesus’ birth! It’s the only time of year where the world still acknowledges there is a reason for celebration that is far greater than any sense of “magic” the human race can come up with.

Because the truth is, magic can’t sustain reality, but joy can transcend it.

You see, I had expected my time in NYC to be as perfect as every holiday romantic comedy I’d watched or as beautiful as every photo-shopped magazine picture I had ever seen, and that’s the problem. I’m basing my dreams of this enchanted season from a world that will never be real, and therefore will never be magical.

But, if I learn to base my expectations and dream my dreams based on the joy of what Christmas is actually about- celebrating the birth of my glorious Savior, Jesus Christ, then
 my season will never be magical but will always be real. 

If I’m offered a magical make-believe world or a joy-filled, grace-infused, love-abundant reality, I choose the joyful reality. Every day. And in doing so, I’m finding that real Christmas joy is overflowing from my heart far more than any amount of “magic” ever could.

**Luke 2:10-14 : And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. 11 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. 12 And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, 14 “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!

Depinned: Why #Flawless Creates Flaws

Flawless.

It’s everywhere.  

 Between Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest,
I can’t get away from these phrases:

| Girl- you’re flawless. | I woke up like this. #flawless | 

| You’re so pretty. You’re perf! |

There are over 6 million hashtags on Instagram for flawless. Over 2 million for perf. Over 35 million for perfection.

So, for week two of Pinterest De-pinned, we're looking at Flawless.

I'm not even starting on the whole concept that “God is the only flawless and perfect being in existence,” because that's longer than a blog. So let’s look at the practicality of what this compliment actually does to a woman.

So let’s say someone comments on an Insta pic of mine: Flawless!

Here’s what that does to me:

          1) makes me smile. 

AND then helps me think a literally impossible standard of beauty is actually achievable. #doomedforfailure

          2) makes me look at my picture again.

AND then causes me to scrutinize it for the 37^th time. Which leads to either an arrogant view of myself, or, the more probable version, leads me to raise my standards for myself and the future pics that I will post. If people think I’m that pretty… that means future pictures must measure up.

#mustkeepup

          3) makes me remember what the picture looked like without the filter. 

AND then Am I as pretty without the filter? Maybe… Who am I kidding? No. Look at my skin tones. My zits. My big nose. I wonder if I’ll ever like a natural (no filter) picture of myself again. #notflawlessbutdon’ttell

Here’s what it does to the friend:

          1) she’s so beautiful! #idon’tlooklikethat

          2) I’ll never look like that! #whyherandnotme? 

          3) If only I my _________ was smaller. #flawed

          4) Girl- you’re so #perf. #jealous

And the random girl reading the comments:

         1) She has a ton of likes! #i’veneverhadsomany

2) I don’t know if I’d call her flawless…. Her nose is a little small. Her eyes a little big. (Criticism begins….most likely a defense mechanism to keep herself from feeling horrible about herself and her appearance.) #she’sprettynotbeautiful

OR

2)  Yeah, I mean look at her. She is gorgeous. I’ll never have those eyes or that nose. #somegirlshaveitall

3) I’ll comment too-  “tbh we don’t know each other but you’re perf!” #jealous

So to summarize #flawless creates:

For the girl: #doomedforfailure #mustkeepup #notflawlessbutdon’ttell

For the friend: #idon’tlooklikethat #whyherandnotme? #flawed #jealous

For the reader:  #i’veneverhadsomany  #she’sprettynotbeautiful  #somegirlshaveitall #jealous

So #flawless creates all sorts of self-doubts and scrutiny into our flaws. Hmmm....

Question: Can we go back to the reality that each of us has flaws?  No one is physically perfect without Photoshop, and even then that’s subjective.  To continually tell each other that we are flawless is only pitting us against a standard that we will always lose to. 

I’m not saying don’t compliment! I’m saying compliment in a way that doesn’t create or add to pre-existing notions of perfectionism or the idol of beauty in so many of our girls’, even our own lives.

True beauty is real. It’s walked through the difficulties of day to day living and rises the next morning to do it again. True beauty involves a character that is loving and an integrity that is spotless. True beauty brings laughter and love to lonely hearts.  True beauty doesn’t have so much to do with the size of the eyes as the size of the heart. True beauty is my Savior’s love flowing through me.

Women and girls: May we learn to compliment sincerely.  Love without jealousy. And look without coveting.

#celebratedifferences #acceptflaws #commendtruebeauty

What do you think? Has #flawless ever created more hurt or more awareness to flaws with you?

Pinterest De-pinned.

Every woman I know has a love-hate relationship with Pinterest. Why? Because you love all the amazing ideas you find…. Like Reese’s Chocolate Pie… or Caramel stuffed Apples with ice cream on top….

But you hate it for the complete and total level of impossibility that lies within it’s scrolling borders.

You think that Ryan Gosling actually counted you twice?

So I present to you: Pinterest De-Pinned. 
 As I stumble upon what I believe to be completely ludicrous pins, I will do my best to de-pin them from your Pinterest boards. And minds everywhere.

Today I want to start with this gem:

This is completely false.  We’re talking 1,000% false.   How do I know? I’m a woman!!!!

(If that’s not good enough for you, we’ve got a whole different issue to work on!)

Now don’t get me wrong, the only man that matters to me is my husband, and in that one sense the board is true. BUT- I haven’t always been married. And even as a married woman, words can still affect me.

If this pinned statement were true:

• Then the number of affairs would be drastically LESS.  How many women have strayed because a man other than her husband started complimenting her?  Her hearing the words led to her believing the words which led to her thinking about the words… and on and on it goes….
• Then the number of bad relationships would be drastically LESS.   How many girls have dated the wrong guy| the bad guy|the abusive guy because it started with compliments like “You are so beautiful…” ?

Words impact. To say that impact is profound is accurate. To say life-long is no exaggeration.  To say it affects us is truth.

So brothers, fathers, cousins, friends, with all that I have in me, 
I beg you: Consider your words carefully. 
Consider the woman receiving your compliments even more so.

To the fathers and brothers:

Do your job.  Love your girl. Praise her. Let her know that she has a beauty that is pronounced and noticeable. Give her the compliments that other men should not be. Or not yet at least.  Let her know that her shape is lovely and her face is gorgeous.  If those words intimidate you, practice on your wife. She’ll love you for it.

To the male friends of girls:

Do YOUR job.  Watch your words.  Your job is to build up your friend as a sister… But that is still a different relationship than a biological sibling. Because you are not related to her, your words carry a different weight. Continual deep compliments will not help your friendship; it will only complicate it for you both.

Although it doesn’t seem like a big deal, it is. Because at some point, your compliments will lead to thoughts which lead to questions…. And then eventually you will like her or she will like you. And it will get awkward or worse… one of you will be hurt.

So please, encourage, and yes, even compliment her- but within appropriate boundaries and using appropriate words. She needs to know she’s valued but she shouldn’t feel pursued when you’re not actually giving chase.

To women:

We must guard our hearts and our minds. Yes, we’ve heard that. But for many of us, we haven’t lived it.

When the wrong guy is saying all the right things, you must learn to forget the compliment and leave the guy. 

Here’s the last point I have to make before I close. And this one is so passionately part of me, that I wish I could have started with it. Men- this also means the reverse is true.

All the times you tell her she isn’t beautiful-
that hurts twice as deep.

You have probably never said those words: “You’re not beautiful.” But you’ve possibly said it in other ways:

“You certainly got a butt on you!”

“Your thighs are like tree trunks!”

 “You’ve put on weight since last time I saw you!”

“No guy would ever want to date you….. I’m just playin, just playin!”

Or maybe you know better than to joke like that, but maybe you don’t know that it’s equally hard to hear men|boys|friends talk about how beautiful OTHER girls are. Or celebrities that are literally impossible (apart from plastic surgery, Photoshop, and private trainers) to look like.

Husbands|Fathers: Know that for you, this quote is true. When she knows you find her beautiful, she is a woman on top of the world.

Girls: 

You are Beautiful. You don’t need a million men to tell you that. Your heavenly Father already has. And the man you will marry will remind you of that… for the rest of your life.