Facing Memory – Day 26

It’s raining.

It’s grey.

I’m chilly, even with hot tea, a sweater and candles.

I want to be in bed. I want to be asleep. Instead, I am sitting on the couch with two bibles open beside me, my budget book unopened and an empty box of play doh.

I keep trying to fight this depression. Forcing myself to do things that will make me feel like I’m doing what I need to be doing.

I’ve stayed on top of the laundry this week (including actually changing MY OWN sheets). I’ve made a few meals from scratch (including the pizza sauce that is in the fridge for tonight’s dinner). I’ve even made cupcakes.

Chocolate. Hazelnuts. Yummy.

But NOTHING that I do seems to be flipping the depression switch off.

I kind of want to go shopping. Or re-arrange the house (I’ve done that this week, twice). Like some kind of major change/purchase will turn all my sad, tired thoughts around.

Or go buy a peppermint mocha, or a salted caramel mocha. Something chocolatey, sweet and caffeinated.

But that hasn’t worked this week either.

I almost ate an ENTIRE COSTCO-SIZED BAG of potato chips yesterday.  Still, no relief from this depression.

I keep thinking that there must be something I can do to go back to normal. A pill (no, even the upping of my antidepressant hasn’t been the magic cure). Facing the Memories (uh, yeah, I’m here writing through my memories, some aren’t fit for the general public, so they are journalled, others I’ve blogged here). Working through all the crap.

None of these things I am doing is working.

And, I know it’s about being but I don’t know how to be in this skin. I don’t know what to expect of myself. What the still, small voice is telling me to be. I don’t know who this woman is, with five kids, with a past full of Jesus and blessings – but tainted with trauma.

How did I let the trauma define me. Be me? Who am I without it? When people see me, do they see the trauma, or do they see a frazzled mom chasing after 5 kids? Usually I get questions like “What, did you start when you were 10?” which is sometimes flattering, and sometimes I want to punch the person in the gut. Because, of course I don’t have the common sense to be parenting five children. Flattering that they think I’m not almost 40, insulting that they treat me like I don’t have 20+ years of experience as an adult.

In my Threadbare Momma’s group, one of the women posted Matthew 5:3 this week – as an encouragement.

” You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.” (The Message)

But even if I admit to being Poor in Spirit – how do I actually succumb to His Will? How do I keep MY VOICE from interfering with HIS VOICE? How do I keep the images of a perfect home and perfectly behaved children, and perfectly browned roasts from tainting The Kingdom images?

Last Night’s Roast

•••

Abba,

I am weak. I know that. But I so want to be strong. On. My. Own.

And I keep breaking. Sometimes physically. Usually spiritually. Emotionally. Mentally.

And yet, I don’t depend on you. I am terrified to ask that you help me to lean on you. I suddenly imagine you taking away from me all the things I love and depend on (primarily my family, coffee and avocado).

I can’t do this. I know it. You know it.

This depression has consumed me. I can’t dwell in it because I have children to raise. As much as I want to sink into this couch and drink tea for the rest of my life, I have to go change diapers, pull a mermaid child from the bathtub, pick up kids from school.

Teach me to let go of those things that don’t matter. The expectations of the world. The kingdom of want. Help me to clean to what is real, what is necessary. Grace.

Grace.

Mercy.

Amen.

•••

and in all honesty. after I wrote this prayer, I reopened my pocket bible to this:

So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you:
Take your everyday, ordinary life – your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life – and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.

Romans 12:1-2, The Message

•••

Immaturity of the world. Verses the discernment of the Will of God – his good, acceptable and perfect will.

I’m off to pray some more, while changing diapers…

And maybe convincing this naked 3yo that it’s too cold to be such.

 

4 responses

  1. You are not your trauma. But there must be days (or longer) when it feels like it. I used to feel like my trauma defined me; I don’t anymore and I don’t know that I remember when that changed. Here is something that helps me: I love Isaiah. Isaiah 51 has comforted me a lot. Isaiah 51: 1-2 “Listen to Me, you who know righteousness, you who were called by my name, you who seek the LORD; look to the rock from which you were hewn, and to the hole of the pit from which you were dug. Look to Abraham your father and to Sarah your mother, for I called him out alone and blessed him.”

    You were not hewn from the pit. You were hewn from the Rock. You are not the mess you were saved from, you are Jesus and He is in you and working faithfully to complete His work in you. He has called you and blessed you. It is useful to look back at the pit sometimes, to realize how blessed we are and how far we have come.

    But we need to not lose sight of our Rock. We are just like Him; image bearers. I don’t always know this; I don’t always feel it. I need to remember that I am “just like my Daddy”. Amazing Grace. The enemy purposed to derail you in the things, ruin you, etc. The Lord redeems and re-purposes our pain. Look at how many people you are encouraging by your blog. I don’t know that I am so crazy that if I could go back in time, I would choose my trauma to happen over again in order to help others; but yet I am so grateful that He can use it for good. Look at verse 16: “And I have put My words in your mouth; I have covered you with the shadow of My hand, That I may plant the heavens, Lay the foundations of the earth, and say to Zion, ‘You are My people'”.

    But above all, I know that whether I am sinking or rising above the flood, He is there with me. He accepts me right where I am and loves me. He is gentle. Keep doing things that you love; keep counting your blessings; and keep looking to Him.
    I love you Jen. Hugs. Mando Hugs.

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