... desperate no more.

... desperate no more

It has been a bit since I've sat at my laptop to scribble down my thoughts. My oh my, there has been so much rattling around in my head, but I had lost my moxie friends.  I didn't have the courage to write.  You see, for several years I have been going through a "rough patch."  I became the opposite of my tag line, I became quite desperate.

Anxiety and depression are evil. They invade your heart, mind and soul.  They make everything seem gray; riddle your bones with fatigue; and for me, they paralyzed my creativity.

I once drafted a blog about why I was the not-so-desperate-housewife.  It told a tale of a woman who loved the Lord with all her heart, who sought to serve others, who's greatest desire was to bring abounding joy where ever she went.  I never published that draft, and about 4 years ago the ugly effects of anxiety and depression took hold of me.

There was a series of events which led to the unraveling of this housewife. I can be a long winded gal, ask anyone who has chatted me up and gotten cornered.  I won't bore you with the day-by-day details, rather I'll give a brief sequence of events since the spring of 2012.

-Our family experienced a great big hurt, in regards to our youngest son, whom is eccentrically, beautifully, and wonderfully made by the father of the heavenly lights. (James 1:17)

-Our oldest son, a big heart'd caring sweet boy, had to change his place of employment(school) too.

-Our hearts were ripped to ribbons as we lost our friends, our social network, and what we had believed to be our tribe of Christ-like witnesses.

-I first reacted rather loudly, being out spoken, wearing my feelings on my

sleeve, and not backing down.  Offending many in a community where you should be seen, not heard. It was believed things should be swept under the rug.

-I began to feel the effects of it all in an extremely emotional way, and I began to isolate.

-I stopped advocating for my sons in their education, not wanting to be the squeaky wheel any longer.

-I allowed the hurt of our families' abandonment to trigger my hang-up of anxiety and depression.

-I stopped writing, not wanting to share the thoughts of my soul with others.

-We traveled to amazing places around America and Canada, that I didn't digitally journal about (blog) for my sons to read when they are grown.

-We updated our "family goals" (refer to past blog .... dream), http://tales-of-a-not-so-desperate-housewife.blogspot.com/2011/04/dreams.html

-We bought a boat, taught the boys to wake surf, snow ski; enjoying the great outdoors in a new way.  We bought a FedEx type delivery van. The hubs gutted and fabricated it to be our mobile command center, as we took sojourns camping, rock climbing, glacier hiking, exploring God's green earth ... but these were all external things, fun joy inducing activities. They were not they things that cultivate the soul.

But friends, here is how I became desperate.  I was mad at God.  I yelled and screamed at him at times when I was driving in my car alone.  We drifted away from an amazing church home, that is actively reaching the disconnected to show them the love of Jesus.  http://www.faithchurchonline.org/
I stopped reading the word.  We, both the hubs & I, stopped taking care of our health and our bodies showed the evidence. I let my heart become sardonic, bitter, and resentful.

What have I done to have a change of heart?  Well, it was really all about the people God placed on my path.  The faithful who showed up, who drug

me along kicking and screaming, who were obedient to God and followed His command... "Just be

her friend."

A small tribe of women, wouldn't stop showing up.  Even as I tried to be ugly, to get them to ditch me, they persevered.  They showed up at my house unannounced.
(gasp, was the house clean? Probably not.)
They made pots of coffee, brought baked goods, folded baskets of unattended laundry.  They drug me out to lunch, took me on joint grocery fetching field-trips (I would rarely leave the house alone, agoraphobic?... very close).  They were Jesus wrapped in skin.  They loved me when I was unlovable.  They were true and constant friends for my husband and children in our direst of times.  Gradually, God used them to mend our broken hearts.

There are many tales to tell about healthy life changes I had to make along this path of healing, but those may be told on a different day.  Today, I need to tell you I am back in the word; I am fellowship-ing with a tribe of believers; I am worshiping the one true God in a place  I feel loved, a place I feel safe being my broken self, a place where the Holy Spirit breaths into me, and I am learning from a pastor who obediently allows the Holy Spirit to speak through him.
http://www.demottefirstnaz.com/sermon-podcasts/

Is life perfect?  Am I miraculously healed from my emotional aliments? The answer is, nope.  I am a work in progress, finding contentment in being perfectly imperfect.  I have days when anxiety creeps in, but I notice it now.  My tribe of accountability people notice it too.  I spend time identifying my anxieties trigger.  I use healthy tools to restore my soul to peace.

My cloud of witnesses, my tribe.