Depression

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I posted this on Facebook this morning:

When I was in the worst grips of depression, this verse seemed an unrealistic platitude, or a promise given to those Christians far more deserving than I. “Where is my power, love, and sound mind?” I would ask desperately.

If I could have “snapped out of it”, believe me, I would have. If people quoting verses at me would have fixed me, my problems would have vanished instantly. Unless you have ever suffered true depression, you have no idea how tight and insidious its grip can be.

God’s answers for me are often neither easy nor quick. Some I may never receive in this lifetime. But I did come to realize that my bleak depression was never from Him, and that He had in fact given me those good things promised in this verse — but they were buried and hidden under the dark fog of despair.

My road to healing was not easy. But it has been so worth it. I am so thankful that God always kept a spark of hope alive in my heart, that He never let go of me, and that He finally brought me out of the darkness.

Each marriage is different

These words from Gary Thomas were part of my devotions this morning:

“Different From the Rest”

Let me put a saying by nineteenth-century churchman Horace Bushnell in the language of marriage: “No married couple is ever called to be another. God has as many plans for married couples as He has couples; and, therefore, He never requires them to measure their life by any other couple.”

You comprise one-half of a unique couple. No other couple has your gifts, your weaknesses, your history, your dynamics, your children, your calling. There is great freedom in accepting our couple identity as it is: we might be strong in this area, weak in that, vulnerable here, impenetrable there, excelling in this, often failing in that, but we are a unique couple called forth by God to fulfill our unique purpose in this world.

God has established your home and your marriage, and that’s the life He wants you to live. Never look to other couples to measure your worth; look to God to fulfill your call. Don’t compare yourself with other couples to measure your happiness; compare your obedience with God’s design on your life to measure your faithfulness.

Become comfortable with your story, your identity as a couple. Relish it. Never compare it. Just be faithful to the unique vision God has given to the unique you (and that’s a plural you). God doesn’t need another couple just like one He already made. He is so much more creative than that. Rather, He wants to release and bless the unique couple that is you.

This goes along with my last post. It is encouraging and freeing not to feel the need to hold my marriage up to a standard set by anyone else, not to hold it up for comparison to other marriages, not to hold it up to what is written in marriage books. The “rules” some people apply to marriages (tasks must be arbitrarily divided along gender lines; communication must follow this format and these guidelines; wives need x,y,z while husbands need a,b,c; a good marriage requires this or that; etc.) do not apply to me — only God’s rules and standards, clearly stated in His Word apply. I can and should look to Him, to my husband, and to myself for the practical outworkings in my life and in my marriage.

That is not to say that others have nothing to offer. There is good advice out there, and it would be foolish to disregard it all. But it’s also foolish to try to shoehorn my marriage and myself into something my husband and I were never intended to fit.

Marriage requires our best. But it should not require us to become someone we are not. It’s a wonderful thing when we can accept ourselves for who we are, our spouses for who they are, and our marriages for what they are — and encourage that all live up to their full unique identities.

I’m starting another blog…

…and I’m calling it “Adventures in prayer”.

Adventures in prayer? What kind of wackadoodle name is that for a blog? And why start a new blog when this one is so sporadic? Will it replace this one?

The idea has been percolating for perhaps a week now, and today I finally decided to implement it. Two different blogs make sense, even though there may be some overlap in readership…assuming I get some readers for the new one! The content will be different; the focus different; and the types of people drawn to either blog may eventually end up being fairly different as well. We’ll see.

As for the title…I’m reminded of, as a small child, sitting through prayer meeting after prayer meeting in our tiny church, my older brother and I the only children forced to attend. The prayers droned on seemingly forever as we sat around the table in a Sunday School room. My head was bowed with the hopes that no one would notice the scandalous truth — I didn’t keep my eyes shut the entire time. In fact, I would scrutinize the table top, memorizing every blemish, every scratch, every pencil mark, every gouge, every name or set of initials carved in with ballpoint pen. We complained about this torment once. At least, I recall only the one complaint.

“It’s so boring! No other children have to attend!” we protested.

My mother was quick to reply, “Prayer is not boring! That’s because God is not boring. People might be boring, but God is never boring.” This was followed by a speech, actually more of a sermonette, designed to inspire us to repent over our prayerlessness and have more of a love and zeal for God.

I wish I could say that I took this speech of my mother’s to heart and that, as a small child in early elementary school, I embarked on a lifelong prayer adventure, eventually becoming a spiritual giant. As anyone who has read a post or two here already knows, such did not happen.

Certainly, since that day, my attitude about prayer meetings has changed. I’ve learned the truth of my mother’s words. I’ve experienced some truly non-boring — even exciting! — times of prayer with others. But I’ve always been somewhat of a late bloomer, so it’s now, almost half a century later, that I am finally truly beginning to experience what a real adventure prayer can be.

That’s what my new blog will be about. It’s about one woman learning how to pray…how to really pray — the sorts of prayers that change me, and change others, and hopefully change my world.

If that topic interests you, I’d love you to follow my new blog, and comment extensively!

Oh, that John Piper…

Sorry if you are a fan of his, but I have to take issue with something he recently tweeted:

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A friend on Facebook alerted me to it, and linked to the following discussion of the tweet. I felt compelled to weigh in with two comments:

The topic of rape, in my opinion, does not lend itself well to sound bites and tweets. I have no idea if this tweet of John Piper had any sort of context or if it just appeared willy-nilly out of thin air — but that is the very problem of Twitter in general. John Piper spends far more time there than I do, and one would think a pastor/teacher of his reputation would know better than that. Well, I keep thinking that and getting disappointed, and maybe someday I’ll wake up, smell the coffee, and simply say, whether it’s him or others of his ilk, “That wasn’t surprising—he often says things like that. That’s just the way he is.”

In the meantime, since I am not fully conversant with Piper-speak, only tending to run across him when he’s spread some other doozy all over the Internet, I am left trying to stay charitable while puzzling out his meaning. It seems to me as if he is saying, with the words “united in sin” and “two distinct forms”, that rape is the male version and seduction the female version of the same sin. Perhaps he refuses to believe that women can rape since there is no such thing recorded in Scripture. But the Bible does describe men seducing women AND it makes a clear distinction between rape and seduction.

I am tempted to say something disparaging about celebrity preachers and their lack of scholarship. (I’m a preacher’s kid whose father set the bar very high in that regard, and it has taken me years to stop getting dismayed and annoyed that few people take Scripture as seriously as he does.) But instead, I think I’ll make this observation: when it comes to the topic of rape, most men simply don’t get it.

The blog author had used a definition of the word “seduce” that referred to coffee, which inspired me to add the following:

An addendum: Coffee is extremely seductive to me. When I am at my weakest, it sometimes seeks me out, like a smooth-talking cad, luring me in sensuously, promising me unspeakable pleasures and delight. Were coffee-drinking a sin, I could try to avoid its siren calls and delicious scent. If forced to be around it, I could pray for strength to avoid its enticements. I could apply the Biblical admonitions regarding how to resist temptation. It would be silly for me to frequent coffee houses and surround myself with cups of coffee.

The Bible contains advice on how to avoid falling for seducers. That’s because, no matter how overwhelming seduction might feel, we always make a choice to allow ourselves to be seduced. We don’t say no. Instead, we say yes. The Bible does not tell us how to avoid falling for rapists. There is a definite distinction.

I drink coffee willingly. Yes, I was enticed, but I am not a victim of coffee. Coffee has never forced itself on me against my will.

For a seduction to succeed, it requires two willing participants, both of whom have sinned. Rape, by definition, has only one willing participant (unless there is more than one rapist) and he is the only one who has sinned.

Very different sins.

If John Piper is a man of integrity with a high view of Scripture, we can expect, very soon, a profound apology and correction.

Call me cynical, but I’m not holding my breath. John Piper has deleted his tweet, although as of yet without explanation, so perhaps I should try to be satisfied with that.

God, love, and difficult questions

Back in July, I wrote this:

This is not a mature, adult faith. It’s a mess, a broken jumble of confusion. But I’m posting it here because it’s real. Jacob wrestled with God. David asked Him tough questions, and lamented and wailed. The Bible is full of people struggling with God, people who didn’t have neat and tidy answers, people that we would feel uncomfortable having around if they showed up at our next small group meeting.

Way back when I was 11 years old, I threw two troubling questions at God, and He answered. Now I feel as if that wasn’t a lifetime ago, as if I’m still Little Me, all childish and earnest and troubled, desperate to believe and trust, desperate for answers that satisfy.

He’s the same God Who answered a crying little girl…the same God Who brought peace to a little girl who needed to cling to hope and beauty…He’s that personal, intimate God…Abba…Daddy…

It scares me. He scares me. Because I know that encountering His love never leaves me unscathed. Never. I will be undone. My heart will be broken…in the most beautiful and healing way. Who will I turn out to be, when I see myself through the loving eyes of my Creator?

I want to run…far far away from a God I cannot escape, at the same time that I want to throw myself into His everlasting arms.

So I stand on what feels like a mountain top, yelling to the Heavens, “Who am I? And You — who are You? What kind of God could possibly love me? And how will I survive Your unfathomable, wild, fierce, tender love?”

I still don’t have all the answers. Gradually I am learning to embrace the mystery. I am learning to want God more than I want answers, more than I want everything resolved and tidy and sensible, more even than I want healing and recovery.

Funny thing, though. Once I started focusing more on Him, and less on overcoming my issues, the more my healing has progressed. That verse I learned as a kid about, “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all these things shall be added unto you” — is this an example of that?

I no longer expect God to make perfect sense to my puny little brain. Frankly, I don’t want that kind of God — He would be too simple, too puny, too small. I want a real God, one worthy of my worship because He is so far above me…even if that means His ways don’t always make sense to me.

It’s been quite a ride, these last months of 2014, and the first month of 2015. I hope to be blogging about at least some of it. Quite a ride. Things have been neither easy nor serene. I have not been left unscathed; my heart is being broken in new ways, and I’m still trying to figure out who I am. But I wouldn’t trade this for anything.