Post-partum Depression, Part 3

This morning in my prayer closet (AKA, the shower), I had a remarkable conversation with God and I came to the realization that I needed to give myself permission to get better. Isn't that strange?

All this time I was praying for the odd combination of numbness and pain to cease, to have it taken from me so that I could get on with my life as I'd hoped it would be. Over the last few months my prayer changed from, "Help me! Take this pain away!" to, "Lord, take me through this," to, "Lord, have your way in me," to, simply, "Be glorified."

Thing is, I've been re-discovering how God uses the difficulties in my life to refine me as a Christian. Not just as a woman, or a daughter, or a mom, or Steve's wife (even though we've been inseparable for nearly 14 years), but as a child of God. God, as my refiner, turns up the heat now and then to burn off the junk he won't use. The fire hurts. It burns and blisters and I cry out in pain even as He re-creates who I am IN HIM. The Refiner holds me tightly in His grip even as I fight the process. I don't need my hang-ups, they can be burned away. I don't need past hurts lived over and over in my mind, nor do I need to let current trials define who I am in Christ. Fact is, I'm a blood-bought princess, a daughter of the Most High, not worthy to be saved but saved nonetheless. Mercy flows over old wounds and I'm healed. Love poured out red at the cross.

I know this might all seem like some weird code for those of you who are not in Christ, and maybe it is! But those of you who DO know Him know what I'm talking about: hope of healing is hope for what we haven't experienced yet, because the PROMISE of healing is all over the Bible. Not just my healing from depression, but from the hurt of disregard, from the pain of rejection and the bitterness of betrayal, to the deep throbbing ache that comes out of mourning. Healing comes. Not in my time, but in His time. And it comes over and over, even as we find we're bleeding afresh.

I think God allows heartbreak in this life so that He can re-shape us, re-work our hearts into vessels He will fill. If the heart is never broken, how can all the selfishness come out? How can we be rid of the junk we invest our hearts in, if they're locked tight against God? I've locked myself up inside for so long . . . and I really thought I was protecting myself, because depression is a self-focused thing.


The reality is, the only way for me to be free of the "me-ness" was for the lockbox I'd made my heart into to be gently chisled open by the wounded hands of Christ. Even as Jesus held me in my pain, I held the hammer that would drive the nails through his flesh and into the cross. MY sin (and yours) held him there. He died. He was buried and when He rose He bought for us new life.

I am humbled. I am brought low in the knowledge that the King of Heaven did this because He doesn't want to part with me, but to be with me for eternity.

I am undone, and yet made whole. A lock box may be whole, but it is locked.

A chipped, marred, uneven and imperfect vessel is more useful than a locked box without a key.

Fill me up and pour me out, Jesus, as imperfect a vessel as I am. I have no need for locks any longer.

You bought my freedom. Please help me not to waste it.

Promised Land

I keep thinking about the Israelites, and wonder how they felt when they were told--after 40 years of wandering around that mountain--that they were finally allowed to enter the land promised to their forefathers.

Were they excited, or was the concept of the promised land--and the memory of slavery--so far removed from them that they didn't care or understand?

Maybe that's why I'm not more excited? The idea that I get to go home to my babies is still just so unreal to me. I trust the Lord; I'm doing research and making plans, hubby and I are crunching the numbers and making out a new budget, and things are looking good. It's just so unreal . . . but in that dream-like happy way.

I love my kids so much. I love my husband so much. I serve the biggest best God ever. And I love HIM so much!!

Good things come to those who wait . . .

I can hardly believe I'm writing this post.

The last week has been like a blur . . . I had this feeling . . . then there were two blue lines on a stick . . . then my husband said what I've been praying he'd say for the last four years; "Looks like you're coming home to stay, because we can't afford 3 in daycare!"

I get to stay home with my babies.

I feel like I've lived an entire life since then, and it's only been 5 days.

I'm not jumping up and down like I thought I would be. I'm just happy. Peaceful. Excited, but nervous. Temperate? I don't know what to call this feeling . . . the Joy of the Lord? Probably, but it's a lot quieter than I thought it would be. I have more patience for my almost-four-year-old and her grumpies, and with my 13 month old as he develops his own strong-willed temperament. I have more patience with my DH. I have peace. I feel humbled by the grace that has been given to me. I am allowed another child, and the chance to do my best raising the two I already have.

I still have to fight the fear that comes with change--that's never easy, of course. There are all these, "What if" situations that pop up in my brain, but they're all based on fear . . . and not a healthy fear of the Lord, either.

It's taking time to sink in, like our spring thaw . . . I get to stay home with my babies. I'm still not jumping up and down. In my imagination there were more exclamation points in this post. :-) I sure smile a whole lot more, that's for sure.
~
Something just occurred to me . . . very soon I won't have to listen to the CEO of our company curse every time he looks at the clock as he walks by my desk. I won't miss that. Not one bit.
~
I'm going to start really digging in to Proverbs 31, and will post my observations here as I go. I want to be that woman for God, for my kids and for my husband.

How am I going to break this to my boss? :-) I know I'm going to meet with opposition in many areas, perhaps mostly here at work, but I honestly don't care. My family is supportive and so are the friends we've told. I'm sure a lot of people will think we're nuts: lots have asked whether we were "done" when we got pregnant with my DS, but I couldn't really answer except to say, "I don't know" or "For now."

I just feel so blessed, so undeservedly blessed. It really is humbling.

I get to stay home with my babies.

My precious, precious Jesus:
I'm sure you know better than I the gift that you've given me. I can't imagine why or how you think I can do this . . . I know you'll help me. I know it's going to be hard. I also know that it's going to be worth all the tears and heartache and sacrifice. You are worth it. You alone are worthy of my praise, and I pray that I can give it to you fully and without reservation. Thank you, thank you.