Sinking Deep - OK, I Lied. Again.

Editor’s Note: I had said that my post, “Sinking Deep – Into Light” would be my last post on my journey with depression.  Then I posted, “Sinking Deep – OK, I Lied”.  And now, happily, I am lying again.  Wow.  I have some great news to share. 

I know some of you are struggling with my blog posts and that I’m sharing my journey with depression.  Believe me, I get that, especially those of you who really care about me, but I just strongly believe it is way too important to share my journey.  If one person is helped by knowing that there is someone else out there like them, I will feel like I’ve been successful.

But even more, these last couple of weeks have been unbelievable.  I can’t overstate what has happened over the last weeks, and I’m completely amazed by it all.  While I know some of you are on different faith journeys, I can’t possibly attribute this to anything other than a “God thing”.  There is no other way to put it.

Look into the face of love and grace

Hailey recently suggested to me that I talk about my struggles with the sins of my past and self-forgiveness to someone other than her.  As she put it, she can tell me all day long that I can forgive myself, but maybe since I’m paying her to help me, I need to talk to someone else and share my story and share that burden to see what their reaction would be.

This was a tough assignment.  It took me a while to work up the trust with Hailey to share my story with her, but it would be tougher to share it with someone else.  As noted before, 30 years ago, I abandoned my family, I moved out, I gave up my responsibility, I lived like a vagabond, in friends’ guest rooms, on couches, on floors, and finally in a tiny, barely furnished apartment.  That’s the cliff notes version, but I was to provide the fuller story to someone besides Hailey.  As noted, this story has been shoved down for 30 years, it was hard enough to tell Hailey, so many details I don’t even remember, or I’ve conveniently forgotten. 

I finally decided that I had to do it.  But to whom?  I scanned my mind, friends, family, co-workers, church members, my Small Group.  This was a really tough choice, I didn’t know who I could trust, but also who I would want to burden with my ugly story.  I finally decided on our Associate Pastor, Catherine Foster.  Why Catherine?  Simply put, she’s one of my favorite pastors in my life, and she’s a beautiful child of God.

As the day approached, I had so much apprehension, but a firm commitment that I was going to go through with this.  While I knew Catherine well enough to know that she wouldn’t be repulsed in horror at my story, I did have some deep seated fears.  As we sat at dinner, my biggest fears were that I would throw up all over her, or I would burst into flames.  Spoiler alert, neither happened.   As I shared my story, the pain I’ve felt for 30 years, I looked into the face of love and grace, but it was even more.

Those eyes.

I just wish I could truly describe those eyes to you.  I saw love and grace, and I saw compassion, empathy, pain – for me, I saw the eyes of God upon me saying, “Why do you keep doing this to yourself, my son, I’ve forgiven you, why won’t you forgive yourself?”  We talked for a long time, and Catherine offered me so many words that were wonderful, and I deeply appreciate that, but it was those eyes.  I couldn’t believe, I physically felt a weight lifted, I felt so much lighter.  I couldn’t believe what a relief I felt.

The seat of judgment

For our Forum Sunday School class at church, we are going to read “The Wonder of Christmas” by Ed Robb and Rob Renfroe for Advent.  I started reading it on a plane trip recently, and I came upon this line:

“But let’s be honest.  King Herod knew there was room for only one on the throne, and we know the same thing.  It’s either Jesus or us.”

As noted, I believe firmly that God is the only one who can and should judge us, and I have no problem with that applying to everyone.  Except me.  I can’t seem to remove myself from the seat of judgment, as much as I know it’s wrong, I apparently believe I know more than God when it comes to judging myself. 

As I shared this line with Hailey, I tried to move on, but she forced me to explain why this line bothered me so much.  I got really emotional, and I said, “Why do I think I have the right to sit on the throne.  I don’t have any right to sit in judgment of myself, why can’t I see that?”  She said, “That’s the first time you’ve said it this way.  You always talk in third person, this is the first time you’ve used I.  That’s really good.”

Hailey then went on to suggest maybe I visualize it.  Maybe I could visualize letting God sit on the throne, and move off of it.  I didn’t have to do it permanently, I could move back on when I wanted to, but maybe I could let God sit there periodically?  We’ve done these visualization exercises before, and they’ve been very effective and powerful, but I had another idea.  When I got home, I bought two stuffed animals from Amazon.  I found a lamb, to symbolize the Lamb of God, and I bought Eeyore to represent me.  As you all know, I love Winnie the Pooh, but I’ve been feeling more Eeyore lately.  When I got them, I set them up in our family room with the lamb sitting up in the chair, and Eeyore sitting on the ottoman.  As noted, I can move them if I want, but so far, I’ve been able to let the Lamb of God sit where He belongs.

It’s amazing how the tapestry is woven together

Hailey and I recently began talking about work a little bit, and I shared with her the narrative I grew up with, “You always take care of your family”.  Keep in mind, my parents grew up post-depression, and work and providing for your family was a necessity.  My Dad worked 18 years at one point without a single day off for vacation or a sick day.  My brother worked three jobs for many years.  Hard work was instilled in us, and it became the narrative for my life.  I have obsessed over work for my entire career, my work has dominated my mindset and my entire life.  I remember once, I was sick, but I went to work.  I told Sherry Starr, who worked for me at the time, “I’m going to go home, and lie down for a couple hours, but I should be back after lunch.”  Keep in mind, this is before cell phones, and I remember lying there in bed, so sick I couldn’t get up, but I crawled across the floor, and pulled the phone off of the dresser, and I lay on the floor, listening to and responding to my voice mails.  Yes I was sick in more ways than one.

Please don’t take this wrong, I don’t blame my parents for this narrative that I grew up with.  There is nothing wrong with that narrative.  But I morphed it into something dangerous and ugly.  I made work into life.  I glorified it into something it should never be.  And I also used this narrative as a sledgehammer to beat myself up for the sins of my past.  “I abandoned my family.  I didn’t take care of my family.”

Help me Obi-wan, you’re my only hope

As I shared all of this with Hailey last week, she said, “That was your narrative growing up.  That doesn’t have to be your narrative as a grown up.  You can change it.”  You wouldn’t believe what that statement meant to me.  I know, I know, I know.  I couldn’t possibly be the most colorful crayon in the box if I didn’t already know this, but somehow, just hearing this changed me completely. 

Let me digress for just one second.  Back to the book, “The Wonder of Christmas”, Rob Renfroe describes a time 30 years ago in his life (tell me that’s not a God moment) where he was miserable and bitter.  He went to a religious conference, and at the end, they had a prayer service.  He said it wasn’t immediate, but he realized afterward that God had healed him. 

Now I know it’s only been six days, but I can’t believe how happy I’ve been in those six days.  Yes, happy.  I told Hailey I’m going to start calling her Obi-wan, but she quickly corrects me and says, “You’re the one doing all the hard work, I’m just sitting in this chair providing some ideas.”  Oh pish-posh Hailey!  OK, to be honest, I am pretty proud of myself for the lamb and Eeyore idea, I’m learning a lot and using what I learn.

I can feel the ground shake beneath us as the prison walls cave in

I went for my normal run this morning, and I listened to my normal songs.  As I was listening to “Another in the Fire” (my obsession with Hillsong United and this song is a bit over the top), I heard the line above, and I felt this huge smile come across my face.  And I couldn’t take that smile away.  I can start to feel the prison walls that I’ve created beginning to cave in.  What a wonderful feeling.

As Hailey pointed out to me, I now need to figure out what my new narrative is going to be.  That may be a bit difficult, but I’m sure we’ll get there.  Yes, the train has just barely left the station, but wow, these last few weeks have been incredible.  Besides the help I’ve noted above, I know so many of you have been praying for me, giving me words of encouragement, sending me words of encouragement, and posting inspirational quotes on Facebook for me to see.  You all have been awesome.  Thanks be to God, and to all of the people He’s put in my life that are doing such incredible things to help me on this journey.