Posted in Faith, Health, Thanks

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Stirred this morning with that same odd feeling that I just don’t have a name for yet.
My thoughts swirled. We are still in this. Still in this. STILL IN THIS.
The band Queen’s words echoed again as I lay hugging my pillow.
“Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality.”
I felt myself getting pulled into the dark, ugly space of “no hope.” Thinking of all the things that could go wrong today and in the future.
A little bit of anger rose up inside.
I’ve worked for a long, long time to recover my mental health after a nervous breakdown about 15 years ago.
Counseling. Nutrition. Prayer. Sabbath. Vulnerability. Gratitude.
Is it all for naught? I feel like I’m teetering on the edge. We all are.
I stayed longer, baffled as to whether or not to keep mulling in despair or get up and “face the day.”
I’m not sure when it happened (the time is blurry during that weird waking-up time), but a faint glimmer of “hope” flickered, just bright enough for me to feel its dim light in the darkness of my mind.
A small moment of clarity shoved its way in.
My whole journey to this healthier space was a marathon, not a sprint. And I ran it. I ran it. One moment at a time. One hour at a time. One day at a time. I ran it.
I can run this marathon too. One moment at a time. One hour at a time. One day at a time. There is hope. There is hope.
Grappling for the mental health tools I had right there in my bed, I talked to God about a few things I was grateful for today.
1. My bed.
2. My husband.
3. A fridge and pantry with food.
4. The sun shining on our philodendron.
5. My car insurance company kicking back 15% to us.
6. My computer.
7. My thyroid meds.
8. My parent’s generosity to our furloughed son yesterday.
9. You who take a minute to read and comment and encourage me in this space.
10. My kids.
It wasn’t magic. I don’t feel fine. But it was a step. A step of hope. That’s good enough for this morning.
Posted in Family, Grief, Marriage

Broken Together

THIS HUSBAND OF MINE…

A man who with impeccable integrity.

A man who wants to be liked by all.

A man who gives his all until the end.

A man who wants peace (sometimes at all costs).

A man who keeps getting help.

A man who struggles to stay engaged.

A man who is kind.

A man who wrestles with anxiety.

A man who keeps fighting for healing.

A man who is broken in many ways.

 

THIS WIFE OF HIS…

A woman who loves fiercely.

A woman whose self-worth is often based on her performance.

A woman who wants others to have undeniable hope.

A woman who judges harshly (at times).

A woman who keeps getting help.

A woman who struggles with maintaining good boundaries.

A woman who is generous.

A woman who wrestles with anxiety.

A woman who keeps fighting for healing.

A woman who is broken in many ways.

 

THIS MARRIAGE OF OURS…

Two who love when it’s especially hard.

Two who hurt the other (even on purpose).

Two who muster up grace and forgiveness.

Two who judge and criticize little things even when we’ve vowed not to.

Two who voice our deepest fears to the other’s listening heart.

Two who keep trying to change the other.

Two who make space for the beautiful and the messy.

Two who share an unshakable faith in the Lover of their souls.

Two who keep fighting for healing.

Two who are broken in many ways.

 

BUT…

WE ARE NOT BROKEN ALONE.  THAT WOULD BE OUR UNDOING.

WE ARE BROKEN TOGETHER. 

STAYING TOGETHER. 

HEALING TOGETHER.

 


(Inspired by my friends at I Do Part Two and the song, BROKEN TOGETHER, by Casting Crowns.