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Last December, my therapist said to me, ‘you are very strong.’  Although the words are very encouraging, they were also words I didn’t want to hear, especially when I was sitting in a puddle of tears feeling weak and vulnerable. Only a few weeks before, I had wanted to crawl under my desk in the middle of the workday to avoid my problems. I get tired of being strong, being stoic. Sometimes I just want to give in, curl up, and hide. But I know she is right. I know that eventually I will get the strength to face the day, the problem, the emotion that threatens to break me. I know I will do this because I have been there before, and I will be there again. I also know I am strong because I am a child of God, and that gives me a different kind of strength.

While already dealing with a slow steady decent into depression, I was told recently that I am a crappy Christian. You want to know how to cut a girl down when she is already low? Go for the heart, that weak spot in the armour. The arrow arcs up into the air and then start its decent towards me as I hear those words. Wow. Low blow. Once again, I’m wishing I could just curl up in a ball and cry.

I know I am not a crappy Christian. Although it stung, as was its intent, I certainly did not let that comment fester or grow for very long. Am I perfect?  Absolutely not. Do I make mistakes?  All the time. Isn’t that the point, to be in this messy life of trials and errors, to risk being vulnerable in order to be in relationships with the people who love us? Just because I am a Christian does not mean I have it all together, and it certainly does not mean I am perfect.

I try to start every day reading my Bible. On the days I am feeling strong and on top of the world, this is easy. On the bad days, not so much. Sunday mornings always feels like it should be a little bit more, I don’t know, sacred I suppose. This past Sunday I knew I had to make the time. I had been struggling for days, weeks even. I knew I needed to get out of the darkness, and I knew where I needed to turn.

Have you ever had one of those moments when it feels like the sun has suddenly broken through the clouds?  Some call it an ‘aha’ moment, others when the light bulb comes on. For me it is when God whispers my name. I love those moments when they come. My heart wants to burst, and I realize I have been focusing on the wrong thing, looking in the wrong direction. There is a sudden rush, a feeling of purpose and determination that makes me feel like I can in fact conquer the world, or at least my little corner.

Sitting on my deck with a cup of coffee, my Bible on my lap, I sit in the silence and just breathe. I let myself settle into the moment, no rushing, no running, no quick fixes. It gives me space to hear the still small voice, the voice of compassion and healing. I am reminded, God knew me before I was born.

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

                                                                                                       Psalm 139:13-16

To know I am a child of God gives me the strength to pick myself up and dust myself off. It reminds me that before anyone else walked into my life, I was loved. I was protected. I was safe and remain so.

Sheila Walsh, a Christian writer that you would assume has it all together based on her career, has struggled with depression most of her adult life. She is gifted at bringing scripture into our every day lives, building on the strength of God’s messages. Her most recent book is called It’s okay not to be okay. Fitting isn’t it? In this book she asks, ‘Are we discouraged because of the unrealistic expectations we put on ourselves – expecting ourselves to be what God never designed us to be?’

I realize I have been trying to meet the expectations of people who didn’t deserve my attention. I had allowed these false messages and false expectations to become more important than what God had ever intended for me. The bar had been set to an impossible height, something that could never be reached. It also reminded me of my unrealistic want to have a life without hurts, without failure, without problems to overcome. But that would be to have no life at all, to live in a world filled with walls of false protection.

I might wallow in the muck for a little, thrashing and screaming in frustration that life is too hard more often than I should. But that’s ok, because I’m not perfect and I’m ok with that. I also know that I am not alone, that I will always hear when God whispers my name and I will go running, running to my source of strength and love that make me whole. There is nothing that I have experienced that God does not understand. Knowing this gives me an inner strength. It makes me calm.

It’s okay not to be enough because God doesn’t ask us to be

Love,