"What Will Your Verse Be?" | Romans 15:13
As a teen (and while we're being honest, on and off as an adult) I struggle(d) with deep, gripping depression. The kind that wickedly and seductively begs you to take your life. The kind that beats you until you are bloody and breathless and won't let you leave. The kind that has too many partners, and overtakes more than those who break their way free. For a few weeks my heart has been heavy.
Babies at our border, needing love that I can give them.
Sensless bombing in a place that cannot know peace.
Bone deep sleep deprivation brought on by tiny little teeth, while of little global importance, still makes all my feels extra feely.
My husband told me this evening that Robin Williams had died, and I frowned. He followed with hearing that it was "an apparent suicide." and I felt a punch in my gut.
When Philip Seymour Hoffman died the internet got a little uglier for a few weeks. "SELFISHNESS!", they cried as they suddenly cared about the emotional condition of this strangers' family. " Neglectful, " they accused of his caretakers and friends. "Disgusting" they spat at his habit that killed him. "Shame" they muttered about our country's mental health care state.
But Robin, our Robin.
Our Genie, our Alien, our robot, Our Captain, O Captain. His death may show another side of what the victims of suicide look like. Not brooding and intense, but the life of the party. Suicide is not a picky predator. It will stalk and devour all who unfortunately fall in it's path. If we let it.
Over the years, when I've heard of another tragic suicide, all I can think is "But they didn't get to the other side. They didn't get to the Hope." and it breaks my heart more than I knew it could.
When you contemplate suicide you are faced with this delima - Will things change from the way they are now? It is a question with a simple answer, a yes or a no, but when you are really staring Death in the face, there only seems to be one answer - No. When the decision is made that life is not worth living, you, obviously, lose everything. Your relationships, your ideas, your possessions, but you also lose something you don't have. You lose Hope. You have not found it yet, hence why you are here, and you will never find it if you don't allow yourself the opportunity to look for it.
My life was spared the night I tried to kill myself, almost ten years ago now, and it was years of relapsing into old, dreadful habits, before I could call myself "free from suicidal behaviors." For some, it is an immediate 180. Their life is flipped on it's head and it never returns to that pit of dispare again. But I sought Hope, and I found that He had been fighting for me, waiting with open arms, to breath new life into me. I cannot explain why I and so many others are burdened with this affliction, but I can stand here today and say that my Savior did not die on the cross for me to deal with my own misery. To handle my pain with the addictive, sickly sweet sting of a blade. He went to Calvary and fought His way back for my Hope, for my life, so that I wouldn't have to. It is done. I can lay it at His feet and know that He has provided a way out for me.
Not long after my attempt on my life, I looked down at my bloody scabs on my arm and imagined holding a baby girl. I sobbed, not knowing if I would ever see the day that I got married, let alone hold my own precious baby. Nine years later my scars have not yet completely healed, but they have beared the weight of three baby girls. With Hope comes life, and the new life that was given to me multiplied into more life.
If you are suffering with depression, know that you are not alone, and that there is Hope.
"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, and engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for! To quote from Whitman " O me, O life! ... The questions of these recurring; the endless trains of the faithless... Of cities filled with the foolish; What good amid these? O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life's exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powetful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?"
-Robin Williams' character in The Dead Poets Society
Well if you're asking, friend, I'd stick to a verse that I didn't write, but Paul did.
Romans 15:13 "May the God of Hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with Hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."
5 things on my 25th
I'm assuming that most of you know that I love babies, and all things Benedict Cumberbatch, and Backstreet Boys, but since today is my birthday, I figured I'd let you in on some more fun things about me. 1) I love Michael Jackson. Like, love, love him. Billy Jean or Rock With You comes on. Move over, I have some dancing to do. I was very little when al of his "allegations" were brought forth and I just could not for the life of me believe them. He was Michael, THE PRINCE OF POP. He had a monkey and curly hair and the voice of an angel! How could anyone be saying such things?! But then he got crazy and I wasn't allow to say that I loved him anymore. But now... well... you know. So maybe enough time has passed and it's okay to come out as a fan. Right? Too soon?
2) At one point in my life, I had three kittens who were named Simba, Nala, and Pantera. Long live the 90's.
3) I have anosmia. I can't smell most things. This has played in my husband's favor over the years in a BIG way. Let's just say I have changed MORE than my fair share of poop diapers because apparently whatever we are feeding our children leads to toxic waste in their britches. So I'm told.
4) I will put lime on almost anything. And if lime just won't do...there's probably lemon on it. The world just tastes better this way. (I also think that I'm a super taster and my husband is super jealous of me, though he'll never admit it)
5) More than almost any other accomplishment (you know, other than raising great kids, being picked by Tina Fey to do a joint session for her and Maya Rudolph, and living my life for Jesus, duh) I really want to surf. Like, really really, really, really, really badly. UNFORTUNATELY.... I can't swim. If you want to see me scream as if I'm being attacked by a 45 ft great white, gu'head and throw some seaweed at me in knee deep water. You'd think I was being drug out to sea. The pool is no better. I'm always about 35% sure that a shark has somehow snuck into the pool since I last looked down and will drag me under and I will drown. The fear is real, people.
My kids are not suitable for church today, so my hubby took us out to the beach at sunrise and I spent the first day of my 25th year with my favorite people in the world. Can't wait to see what this year brings.
Self Love. I Get It.
In between my second and third daughter's pregnancies I lost about 50 pounds. Twenty pounds of it was baby weight and the other thirty were due to an extreme diet that I had to stay on due to my daughter's auto immune condition. It was the thinnest I've ever been. About 130 pounds, a size 2/4. Every single day someone (a female someone) commented on my weight. It wasn't just that I looked pretty, but that I looked "SO SKINNY!" or "super thin" and heard "Mini Mae" more times than I care to admit to. While the compliments brought on a vanity complex that I truly didn't have before, I sincerely told people not to talk about my size. I knew that I wouldn't be that size forever and with my history of eating disorders, I didn't want to get caught up in the self hate game later on in life. Ain't nobody got time fo' that. Fast forward to now, a year after my third pregnancy. I am 5'4", 155 pounds, a size 10. I eat a gluten free, dairy free diet (with a sweet treat once a week), and work out 5 times a week (though I don't run due to an injury). And after a few trips out for some new clothes... I found myself hating the skin I'm in. There aren't clothes for us girls in between "rail thin" and "plus size." I'm scoffed at when I say that I am curvy, but everyone agrees that I'm not skinny. Clothes for "curvy girls" tend to suffocate my thighs and bum, while showing off every inch of my 34 FFF knockers. Because "loving your curves" means "showing them off." And the drapey, romantic, modest clothing I love that is made for thinner girls have to be bought in larger sizes that just make it look like I'm wearing a tent. I don't read fashion magazines-ever. I don't have cable. I reject America's idea of beauty and cling to this passage
"3 Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. 4 Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. 5 For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to adorn themselves..."
But still, I found myself in the dead of the night wondering what good this body is. It carried on into the morning hours. I asked my husband to pray for me and he sent me a few verses to read that I just didn't get a chance to until late that evening. One of those verses was 1 Cor 6:19-20
"19 Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; 20 you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies."
The "Self Love" movement has always carried a negative connotation with me. For me, it often seems like an excuse for self obsession, vanity, or valuing one's self by their appearances (regardless of what size/color/etc they are) But as I read this beautiful verse, thinking "What good is this body?" I felt it. This body is loved by the man I admire most, my husband. This body housed, birthed, and fed the children we made together. This body serves the community around it by the conviction and motivation of Jesus Christ. This body was bought at the cost of His Love and is a dwelling place of the Holy Spirit! That, THAT, I can love.
Wherever you are today in your evaluation of self worth, I hope you see what beauty there is that radiates about you that is worth loving.
Mae
