Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Letting Her Go

Dear Little Girl

I remember you like it was yesterday, packing brown boxes with all of the things you would need,
Terrified because dorm life didn't appeal to you in the least.
I remember the lime green comforter and bright blue pillows you picked because inside you felt black.
And even though you couldn't control it, at least outside you could have some color in your life.

I remember all of the nights you couldn't sleep because you were terrified you wouldn't be able to get out of bed again the next morning.
I remember all of the classes you skipped because they seemed pointless when you had no intention of living a long life.
Lost little girl
I remember you.

I remember all the lies.
That had just enough truth
to become reality.
I remember letting go of love
In pursuit of lust
because that was all that you were worthy of.

Sometimes, you are still inside me
Begging me to remember the fear
and the phone calls
the hair dye
and the discontent.
Doing anything
to become someone else.

More than anything I remember the words.
All of the words spewed forth
Hate. Death. Sickness.
And I cringe.
Breaking agreement even now with who I told you you were.

And I'm sorry little girl
But I have to let you go.

You are not who I am now.
You are not who I was ever meant to be.
Here, we part ways.
Even though it may be a long journey before we fully turn from the other.

Little girl, you are becoming EXACTLY who Jesus meant you to be.
You do not have to be afraid anymore. You will live and not die and declare the works of the Lord.
You are strong and courageous and do not turn back from battles.
You only have to be still the Lord will fight for you.

Precious little girl I'm sorry for all the times I told you
you were not worth living for
because the truth is
Jesus died because you were so incredibly, undeniably worth it.

But in the midst of loving Him,
I have to let you go.
There is really no room for the dysfunctional part you played
In our relationship.

So here little girl I put off the old you
and walk in the freedom of becoming me
and when your voice in my mind causes old fears
I'm telling you now little girl,
perfect love casts out fear
and I am perfectly loved.

Here's to you little girl
And the woman you were meant to become.
I am not who I once was
But Jesus is who He always was.

Here's to you little girl,
One important word

Friday, July 4, 2014

The Truth About Recovering From a Past With Depression: The Valley of the Shadow

I am writing this post because I want to honor the words of a dear sister and friend Mandie who was so open about her struggles of a life in recovery. I am so honored by the way she lives her life. I do not really want to write this but I have no desire to keep in the dark what is so desperate for light. 

I sat on the floor of my apartment this week with two dear friends of mine and said 3 words I never wanted to say again. "I'm falling apart." After going through treatment for depression I vowed to never be truly sad again because I was afraid of where that sadness might take me. 
Because down deep where it matters sometimes I feel like I am depression. I am meant to be sad. 

But I am. I am sad. I am sad that I'm in Abilene at 25 years old just beginning my Master's degree when all I have ever wanted was to leave. I'm sad that I am walking through life without a spouse because for the first time ever I see the value in having one. 

I'm sad that my body makes everything so ridiculously difficult. I'm sad that I held Berkley for the first time standing up today and was only able to do so because I was in the pool. 

I'm sad that freedom in daily life comes at the price of consistent, constant battle for many of my dear sisters. 

I'm sad that I have to use an undependable bus system to get anywhere, and I'm sad that I buy into the lie sometimes that because of Cerebral Palsy my dreams will never come true. 

My friend Mandie puts it beautifully when she says "I'm envious of your lives friends, I want what you have." 
I don't want to want these things. I don't want the shadow that my heart feels when it remembers the little girl who so desperately wanted things to come easily just once. 

But like Mandie, I choose life. I choose to know that tears are safe, and sad things (even CP things) are temporary. 
I choose the arms of Jesus over the numbness of television and silence and thoughts from the enemy. 
I choose to think of what I have accomplished rather than of how far I have to go. 
I choose to be okay with grief. 
I choose to remember how far I have come and acknowledge that I am NO LONGER bound by depression just because I'm sad sometimes. 
I choose to believe that I am capable of stability and joy in every day. 
I choose to remember that it's okay to need people.
I choose to remember the price Jesus paid for my freedom
And even in the Valley of the Shadow I choose to remember that the one whom Jesus sets free is free indeed. 
I choose life. 
I choose battle because the victory Jesus has for me will be greater than any grief. 

In Redeeming Love Angel asks Hosea while God is putting him through all of the battles he is facing and he tells her "It's because I'm not yet strong enough for what is to come." 

Heartbreaking battles come with incredible victories. And all of the most painful losses result in some of the most incredible gains. Every good story comes with grief. I choose the victory. I choose the gain. I choose the story. 
I choose life. I choose me. I choose Jesus.