Grieving in Waves

Grief is such a strange thing, and even though I’ve lost many people in my lifetime, I’m still not used to the way this process works for us humans.

The biggest thing I’m still working on coming to terms with? Sometimes memories really just sucker punch you in the gut, and there really doesn’t seem to be any way to get around it. The world moves on, and so do you, but sometimes you get thrown back to times gone by and the emotions come with you. In my experience, grief can be much like water at the beach - sometimes it’s calm, and sometimes you get slammed by a wave that you didn’t see coming.

Sometimes your heart just hurts.

And that’s okay. Even if it’s been a while, it’s okay. The one thing you can’t do is pretend it isn’t there. If you’re waist-deep in the ocean and don’t expect to get hit by the next wave that comes along, you’re in for a cold surprise... and it seems to me that grief often works the same way.

My mantra during the past year or so has been “progress isn’t linear.” If you’re working your way toward the shore and get bowled over by an unexpected rogue wave, that doesn’t mean you aren’t making progress. This place is likely less deep than where you started - you just can’t see it yet.

If you never quite get to dry land, that’s okay too. Not everyone does, not everyone needs or wants to. Knee-deep waters are much less overwhelming than waves that rise above your head and lift your feet off of the sand. Time may not heal all wounds, but it does help make them easier to carry.

If you’re going through something, know that it’s okay to not be okay. Sadness and other “bad feelings” have their place and are incredibly important (which is why Inside Out is my favorite movie). If you are overwhelmed by waves that seem to keep knocking you down again and again, know that it is not your forever. Whether you feel like it or not, shallow waters are close by - and as long as you press on, they are getting closer.

I’m still in up to my waist. I get bowled over often. Sometimes it’s scary, and it’s often overwhelming. But at the end of the day, I know the shallows are near - so as Dory so wisely says, I will just keep swimming until I get there.

A World Without Color: Depression, Trauma, and Hope

Photo Credit: Katie and AnnaBelle Armitage

A T  •  F I R S T

9 months ago, walking over this bridge to get to school every day was a terrifying experience, triggering terrible thoughts that I didn’t control. I carried a heavy burden of guilt, shame, and isolation, and I’m pretty sure my actual vision was affected because the world around me was sapped of color. 

I was slipping further and further into a spiral of destructive patterns, barely eating, getting 3-5 hours of sleep a night, and feeling like I had no place in my community, my school, or my city. I could not see an end to the pain that I was experiencing, and despite my best efforts, I could not find a way to process what I was going through without completely falling apart. 

B U T  •  T H E N

I woke up one day realizing I was fixated on the idea of not being alive any more. This realization forced me to realize that I was in a bad place and needed help. I finally saw that I had to commit to working through the depression, anxiety, and trauma that weighed me down like an anchor strapped around my chest, or else I would forever be trapped in the prison of my own mind, living out a miserable existence that terrified me. This marked the beginning of a journey that would forever change my life: a journey filled with all sorts of ups and downs, successes and failures, victories and setbacks, humility and acceptance.

A N D  •  T H E N

My life didn’t magically become perfect. I didn’t snap out of it and “get better” after a session or two. But I reached out to my most trusted people in a cry for help... and they heard me. They embraced me as I was and held me up when I didn’t have the strength to stand. I swallowed my pride and humbled myself in therapy sessions. I did my best to take down the walls I had built up with people and be honest with my community about the condition I was in.

I stopped identifying myself with my illness (“I am depressed”) and started using person-first language on my own self (“I am a person who has depression”). And slowly - so painfully slowly, but surely - the spark of life started to flicker back once in a while. Then more frequently.  

And then, a week ago, I unintentionally referred to my suicidal ideation in the past tense for the first time. 

S O  •  N O W

A year ago, I didn’t think I would be able to pull myself together enough to stay in school. Getting up each day took all the willpower I had. But, by the grace of God and the incredible support of the people around me, I made it. I am able to say “I’m okay” for the first time in what feels like an eternity, and one week from today I will be walking across a stage to celebrate earning my Bachelor’s degree. 

My issues have not vanished. I still have depression, anxiety, and grief to work through. But I can see the sun for the first time in what feels like a century... and the world, which seemed so one-dimensional and flat in tone, I have begun to be able to see in glimpses of full and beautiful color.

M O V I N G  •  F O R W A R D

I share my story for anyone who is now where I was then. There is yet hope, even if it feels like there is none. I could not imagine ever feeling happy or excited about life again, but God had more plans for me than I could see in my limited field of vision. 

There is yet color to be seen in the world, even if all you can see now is black and white. Allow the people who love you to support you. Go to therapy - doing so does not mean you have failed ❤️ You are valid, you belong, you have a place, you are loved. You are not defined by your mental illness or lack thereof. You are more than what you have or have not done. 

If you ever need an understanding, nonjudgemental ear or shoulder to cry on, know that you can come to me.

Much love,

Liz

x

"To the Void" - A Poem

~ Written Feb 26, 2019 ~

To the nights when I feel lonely,
When the floorboards creak and moan;
To the days that make my bones ache
And my heart feel cold like stone;
To the memories that break my heart
Yet somehow bring me joy;
To the pieces of my brain that trick
And blind my very eyes;
To the cold and hardened picture of the future that I see,
To the brokenness and heartbreak that I feel surrounding me,
To the voices in my mind that scream my failures inside,
To the torrent of deceptive thoughts that leave me in denial,
To the lifeless chill and emptiness that drains me to the core,
To the endless search for things that just are not worth searching for-
I say to all these things that wish to tear me all apart,
My Jesus is enough for me, greater than my lifeless heart.
The broken cells residing in my head have no authority,
Just as lost piano keys can’t kill a written melody.
And though my head may scream at me
To drown in what I’ve done;
Though blood goes pounding through my heart
And I can feel it in my gut;
Depression and anxiety,
They think they’ve got the best of me-
But I know this, and they do not,
‘Tis by my King that I’ve been bought.
My life is now my own no more;
My sickness He Himself has borne.
I’ll see Him face to face one day,
And all my pain He’ll wipe away.
I trust His goodness, not my chains;
The thoughts that try to kill my brain,
The searing, roaring feeling-pain.
Will I see healing in this life?
Perhaps I won’t, but through the night
My darkened path He will alight
At least enough to set me right.
Now I have hope that though this pain
May sting and hurt like acid rain,
This life is not what matters most,
It’s what comes next in which I hope.
My pain may not end now or soon,
Yet I can cling to what is true.
Take heart, my friends, and have no fear;
The peace of Christ is ever near.

The Beach: My Symbol of Depression and Hope

I used to hate going to the beach. It’s windy, it’s cold, and I always get soaked even if I claim I’m only going to get my feet wet. At the age of 18, staring out into the endless gray waves would inevitably serve as a grim reminder of the heavy emptiness that I felt. The crushing weight of the neverending sea was a similarly crushing reminder of how worthless I felt I was. The ocean became synonymous with my depression - a heavy darkness that bound up my heart and felt like a literal weight in my chest. 

Things got better after a while. I grew up, I went to college, I made more friends, I found my calling in life, I got involved in things that gave me purpose. 

And then all of those things were ripped out from under me. Friends, jobs, school, community, reputation, career plans, living space, relationships, none of it was stable. I kept losing pieces of my life, and by the time all was said and done I felt like I had become one of those underwater ecosystems that are built around floating kelp islands, which are frequently forced to disband and find new gathering grounds when the kelp has sunk or been eaten (did anyone else watch that episode of Blue Planet? No? Just me? Okay). 

I was lost in a sea of gray. No kelp island to anchor myself to. Floating, endlessly, aimlessly. Often told what I should do or should have done, when all I needed to hear was, “I’m here for you, even when you’re wrong.”

Adrift in a great, endless expense of slate gray, one wave rolling in after the other, plunging me into the depths, too deep to breathe. I couldn't breathe. 

My heart rising in my chest, I reached my hand toward the surface for help- 

But I was too far down. 

Nothing stable, nothing to hold on to.

Water surrounded me, cold and unfeeling, the horizon stretching beyond my line of vision and I was sinking, slowly but surely.

Sinking,

Reaching,

Drowning. 

I could count on nothing. 

Or, at least, that’s what I thought. 

See, I have had it all wrong this whole time. I have been trying to set up camp in places I have not been not called to stay. The rug has been pulled from beneath my feet repeatedly, not because I have bad luck or made the wrong decisions, but because those foundations were never meant to be as secure as I thought they were. The kelp islands I latched on to were not my permanent placement. 

And more importantly, I’ve been forgetting the most key component of my life - Jesus. Rather than a kelp island, He is a strong reef in which I can make my home and thrive. His love, His word offer me every ounce of identity that I have so deeply craved. For some reason I still experience an (unwanted) resistance to fully embracing that identity, and it’s something I definitely have to work through. But oh my goodness, the depth of the suffering we go through when we reject this, the simplest and most perfect of gifts! As Paul wrote in Galatians, “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life that I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me” (Galatians 2:20).

This is not my life any longer - my life belongs to Christ. Because of this, I no longer have to worry about being good enough, or being good enough in comparison to others, or succeeding in a worldly sense, or being well liked. I don’t have to worry about getting a “good job” when I graduate or where I will be living in a year. If people don’t like me or my perspective, I can finally say “so be it.” I have been trying for so long to learn that lesson, and I finally learned it the hard way this past year; and while it was one of the most painful lessons I’ve had to learn, it was 100% a blessing in disguise. 

Some of these worries and insecurities are actually important, others not so much; but I don’t have to worry about any of them, because this is no longer MY life. My life belongs to Christ. My body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in me, whom I have received from God, because I am not my own! I was bought by the blood of Christ, at a heavy price - that price being death (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). Therefore I seek to glorify and honor Him with every day, because He paid the ultimate price for my freedom.

This being acknowledged, every day is still a new challenge, and sometimes I slip into a hole that takes painful and concerted effort to climb back out of. I have my wounds and scars just like anyone else, and yes, they hurt and sometimes it's a challenge to even get out of bed in the morning. But, while I still pray for healing, I have become okay with remaining in the process - because the Lord has already used that process to lead to much growth and healing in me already, and I regret none of it.

When I was 18 years old, standing at the beach and looking out at the ocean only increased my despondency and sense of lonely worthlessness, because all I could feel was the emptiness in my heart and the physical weight in my chest that pulled me down. All I could see in the water was murky gray. 

Now, four years later, when I look out at the water I may still see those things. But that is no longer all I see, nor is it what I find myself focusing on. I am too caught up in digging for sand crabs and “accidentally” getting caught by rogue waves (when I've told myself for the umpteenth time that “I’ll only go in up to my calves”). I prefer to stare in rapture at the beauty of the setting sun shining on the water, rather than complaining about the wind chill or the wet clothes chafing at my skin. I’ll marvel at God’s creation... looking for shells, digging up crabs, and staring at the sea foam washing up on the beach. 

TL;DR: My depression may never really "go away," and I'm okay with that - because my Creator is bigger and stronger than the chemicals in my brain, and I choose to wrap my identity around what He - and only He- has to say about me.

How Lamenting Changed My Life

Several years ago, when I was in the middle of a slump in my faith, I wrote a song describing the pain I was going through because of the numbness in my spirit. I never felt that the song was quite finished, but I didn't know why. I was always made sad by it, but I couldn't think of anything to add, so I just left it.

Then I went to a conference called Journey this year. At that conference, we talked about lamenting. A lament is a deep expression or complaint of sorrow, pain, grief, and confession. We see people doing this all through the Bible, and I used to simply see those passages as people being sad and telling God about it. But lamenting is actually so much more, and it has brought so much to my life!

This is the handout that I received at Journey, and it honestly changed the way I
look at my prayers of grief, sadness, pain, heartache, and confession.

There is a pattern to lamenting. There is a hope and a promise, an assurance of being heard and an establishment of trust that is inherent in the process. The problem is that we often stop halfway through this process, and simply complain to God. But just like my song, those laments are incomplete. They are missing part of what makes them so beautiful - no story is complete without an ending! The Lord wants to hear your deepest sorrows, and it's okay to express feelings of frustration and grief that are directed at Him. David did!

But we can't stop there. I spent an hour or so finishing my song tonight. I am no longer in the place I was when I first wrote it, but I still have many of the same struggles... and I expressed them, but the song no longer ends on a note of despair. Rather, it now ends in a plea for the Lord to take my withered, broken heart and make it once again alive.

Brokenness and pain are inevitable in this world. We are promised difficulty. Yet we are also promised hope, joy, and a peace that is far beyond our comprehension. Grieving and lamenting is part of life... and following through on the process of lamenting can change your life. Grieving to the Lord is no longer a sad thing for me, but a blessing; I am left feeling hopeful, rather than downcast and hopeless. Jesus gives us beauty in exchange for ashes... and that means we can come to Him with our ashes and leave clinging to His promises of beauty.

Blessings,

Elizabeth

What It Really Looks Like to Submit Your Decisions to God

Life decisions can be hard to make. We as human beings have to make choices all the time, but sometimes there comes along a really big decision that will potentially affect the rest of our lives. Many of these big decisions bring substantial stress and anxiety with them: for me, several such dilemmas have arisen in the past year pertaining to college, relationships, church ministries, and potential future careers.

I prayed a lot about these decisions. I really wanted God’s approval on my choices; deep down I wanted to “do it all right”, be perfect, have the Lord’s backup before taking any action, make no mistakes. I’d never had to make these kinds of decisions before, and I expected Him to present me with some sort of clear, set “road map” which would show me exactly what to do and guide every action I made. Boy, was I disappointed—as well as stressed, confused, and anxious—when what I got in return for my prayers seemed to be radio silence. I asked God to show me what to do, but I didn’t get the answers I expected.

I thought that, since Jesus is the Lord of my life, my future was a blueprint that I could access just by asking for it. After all, God knows everything, including my personal history and future. He is omnipresent, omnipotent, and omniscient—everywhere at every time in history; the all-powerful, all-knowing Creator. And it’s obvious in Scripture that God has a plan for us and knows our futures. For example:

Ephesians 2:10--“For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”

Ephesians 1:11--“In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works through all things according to the counsel of his will”.

Source: http://www.confidentfaith.net/the-coming-crisis-daniel-8

However, having a plan doesn’t mean that He’s always going to tell us what that plan is. I waited so long for God to ring a bell and shout what the right decisions were, but I heard nothing; maintaining this attitude toward His plan put me in a place where I was terrified that I was going to have to actually do the choosing myself, and I felt entirely incapable of making such big decisions. I felt that I had somehow failed because I didn’t have any direction; I was afraid that, if I made a decision without a specific “this is it” guidance from God, I would chose wrong. This idea is entirely unbiblical. Look at the following verses:

Proverbs 19:21—“Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand.”

Romans 8:28—“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”

James 4:13-17—"Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” 

What do these verses tell us? We, as human beings, tend to make our own plans. We want to be in control, to do everything right, and the last thing most of us want to do is make a mistake. Especially if it’s a big mistake. “What if I’m dating the wrong guy?” “What if this isn’t the major I’m meant to pursue in college?” “What if this isn’t the job God really wants me to have right now?” Regardless of our plans, however, God has His own, and His plans always override ours.

How would life be a journey if we were handed all the answers? I believe that the Holy Spirit resides in us as believers for many reasons, not the least of which is to attune us to God’s nature. Rather than showing up once in a while with a clap of thunder and big announcement, He often works quietly in us day by day. The more we commune with Him and read the Word, the more familiar we become with His character, and the clearer our choices become.

What about choices that aren’t directly discussed in the Bible, though? How does one decide where to go to college, or whether or not to pursue marriage with a certain person? In these situations, the first thing that we must do is ask the Lord for guidance. Second, we need to go to the Word; what does it have to say about this situation? Third, we look to logic. Does this decision make sense? Is this a good college for your major? Does your relationship with this person line up emotionally, mentally, physically, logistically, and spiritually, and do you feel optimistic about it? If your choice corresponds to Scripture, is set in logic, and you feel good about it, then that is a green light. Take a look at Allison Vesterfelt's article, "What It Really Means to Submit Yourself to God", in which she writes about her journey toward discovering how submitting one’s life to God actually works, since He doesn’t often blare the answers to our problems in our faces with a bullhorn. As a writer, Allison compares submitting one's life to God to submitting a writing project to an editor:

"[W]hat if, as Christians, we looked at submission to God this way, rather than waiting for him to boss us around. What if [we] labored over our lives, day and night, trying to make them beautiful? And then, when we felt like we were really onto something, we showed them to Him and said:

'This is the best I can do. I’ve given you everything I have. But I realize I might have missed some things.'
'Will you make it better?'" 

God doesn’t always prevent us from making what we in our time-limited minds call mistakes. Sometimes a major is changed, a relationship terminated; people overload themselves and have to back out of commitments, even though all the green-light signs were there. Students choose a college, then decide to switch to somewhere else. However, though we may see these changes as mistakes or “wrong choices”, they really are periods of growth that God intends for our good.

Source: http://hubpics.com/post/god-controlhttp://hubpics.com/post/god-control

So don't be discouraged when you don't have an "aha!" moment about God's will for a decision you're making. Don't be disappointed or feel that you've failed God when things don't pan out the way that you expected them to--He doesn't always show us where we're headed right away, and sometimes the journey of "failures" is what actually prepares us for success. Instead, focus on honoring Him with your decisions; thank Him for providing you with the Holy Spirit, who will guide your heart and, through your heart, your actions. 

Colossians 3:17: "And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."

You Are Perfectly Imperfect: Measuring Self Against the Myth of Perfection

A person's self-concept, according to my Interpersonal Communications professor at college, is made up of three parts: the "presenting" self, the "perceived" self, and the "ideal" self. 

• Presenting self: the image we project; how others see us. 
• Perceived self: how we see ourselves; comes complete with our strengths and imperfections. 
• Ideal self: what we want to be; how we think we ought to be.

Today my presenting self—what others see—exudes confidence and self-assurance. It says, "I'm fine with how I look." It laughs with ease and looks quite relaxed. Others may see it and think, "Wow, she really has it together."

Meanwhile, the perceived self—what the self sees—pulls out the makeup bag in the morning and thinks, "Time to de-uglify!" It stands in front of the closet, a pile of tried-on clothes thrown on the bed, with a heart heavy like lead. "I wish I had a better body," it thinks almost angrily. "I don't feel attractive at all." However, the logical part of me realizes that this is the result of a clash between my perceived self and my ideal self.

Everyone's presenting self is better than their perceived self... we see others as much, much more put together, attractive, etc. than they see themselves. So I recognize that although I feel horrible today, I'll feel better eventually and other people probably aren't going to see me as badly as I expect. 

And the thing is, EVERYONE has these days. The face we put on for the crowd says that we have it all together—however, behind the mask, we may feel like the crappiest human being in the world. On these days, every person you see seems to have it together better than you do, look more attractive than you are, and have a better personality than you do; meanwhile, you seem to be the one person in the room who is worse than them all in everything.

However, this is a normal part of life. EVERYONE has these days. That one person in your friend group who seems to have the perfect life, perfect body, perfect personality? That illusion is called "the myth of perfection." IT DOES NOT EXIST IN REALITY. I can guarantee you that he or she has days in which "the struggle is real." That seemingly-perfect body is somehow flawed in his or her eyes. That "perfect" life has a catch known only to this friend whom you so envy.  That flawless, oh-so-likable personality has a hidden fault, and he or she knows it.

You see, no one has it perfect. Everyone has bad days, and to every presenting self there is a secret behind the scenes. If we accept that no one is perfect, we can begin to accept our own imperfect selves as the beautiful creations of God that they are. You are beautifully and wonderfully made-- and God made you to be unique, with your own struggles and triumphs, your own weird tendencies, and your own unique giftings. Accept yourself as the perfectly imperfect creation that you are- for, of course, God doesn't make mistakes- and live your life with the knowledge that you are equipped for everything that will be set before you.