I am a nobody, relatively speaking.
I have a very small life.
I don't pretend to be a voice that is listened to by the masses, or even by my kids half the time.
I am very aware of the fact that few people care what I have to say about...well, pretty much any subject you might name.
I don't have a college degree or an impressive resume. Who am I kidding? I have no resume at all, unless "potty-trained four kids, two dogs, and one cat" counts as prior job experience.
I could go on. I'm very good at self-aware downplaying. I know who I am on paper. I know who I am not.
But also, and I cannot overemphasize this next point: I. KNOW. WHO. I. AM.
I know that my God has seen fit to call me His daughter. (Galatians 4:5-6) I know that He, and He alone, has the words of life. (John 6:68) I know that I have access to the throne room of heaven. (Hebrews 4:16)
I could go on here too. I would LOVE to keep talking about all the things I know to be true about me, because I have read them in the Bible.
But, for just a minute, I want to speak on a subject that many, many, many more influential people than me have been talking about this past week.
Mental health crisis.
Again, lest you have forgotten in the past few moments, I remind you that I have no degrees. I have no platform. I have no recognition as an expert.
"But what I do have, I give to you..." (Acts 3:6)
I've had a mental health crisis. Two separate ones, in fact.
And while I am sure everyone's definition is different (because every person is different, duh) I think we can all pretty much agree that when we think of this term, (which I will now refer to as MHC to save my fingers some mileage) we are thinking of some version of a debilitating emotional upheaval that begins to affect us physically.
My first MHC occurred when I was 24-years-old. Complete with panic attacks, insomnia, an EKG on a racing, stuttering, never settling heart, more than one different medication, and finally, a thought that led me to ask for help. "It would really just be easier if I were dead."
I will never forget sitting on the floor of my kids' bathroom, while my 3-year-old and 1-year-old played in the water, and listening to my mom's voice on the other end of the phone.
"Are you praying in the Spirit? It edifies you, baby girl. (1 Corinthians 14:4) Are you staying in the Word? That's where hope is. (Psalm 119:114)"
That same day I shared my struggles with my husband. "I don't know what is wrong. I don't know how you can help me. But I need you to help me." I was shaking and sobbing. He listened.
That night as I climbed into bed, sure that I would spend another mostly sleepless night having one panic attack after another, he walked into the room carrying his Bible. He sat on the edge of the bed, and he began to read it.
Crawling out of that first MHC hole took me more than a year. In that time, I read through the entire Bible, and I began a habit of praying under my breath while cooking dinner and driving in my car. Also, my husband continued to read the Psalms aloud to me, night after night. That was 16 years ago. He still reads to me, and our kids, every night. Last night, we read 15 verses in Psalm 119.
My second MHC occurred within the last 10 years. It included anxiety so severe I could barely eat, resulting in a rapid weight loss that had my friends forcing me to go to the doctor and have my stomach checked for ulcers.
You know what I did during that MHC? I continued to pray in the Spirit, I continued to read the Word. I asked others to pray for me, and I focused on the face of the One who loves me so deeply that He willingly died in my place TO GIVE ME the ability, and the right, to pray under my breath when I need help. (Psalm 123:1-2a)
I give that brief history review lest I be accused of speaking on subjects I have no personal experience with. Which, by the way, is totally irrelevant to the truth BEING true, but somehow people are less likely to give weight to words unless they have been lived.
Now I am to the crux of what I am trying to communicate. And I'll state it plainly because I'm a plain girl, and I don't like having to be careful with my words. I prefer to just say stuff.
A MHC does not have to be simply accepted.
It is not a fact of your life that you can do nothing about.
It is not worthy of celebration.
It is not an opportunity for rest and self-care.
It IS an opportunity. A call, from your very bones, shouting 'SEEK HELP IMMEDIATELY.' But why do we neglect to seek help WHERE IT CAN BE FOUND??
Brothers and sisters, do not be deceived. Do not be lulled into acceptance. Do not grab hold of the narrative that we all have these crises and the best, bravest thing we can do is recognize them and work to deal with them and not try to hide them.
That is a lie.
And we've all believed so many other lies that, at this point, what's one more, right?
I mean, we have all felt entitled to things, right? It's the American dream: life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness. They are inalienable rights, after all.
We all deserve 'me' time.
We have a right to a good night's sleep.
We have a responsibility, a duty, a mandate even, to protect ourselves and others from physical danger. We must keep ourselves safe. We truly believe that's within our power to do.
And so when any, or many, of these things we hold so dearly are shaken or taken or turned upside down...why are we surprised that a MHC follows?
Prove one lie to be a lie and the whole house of cards comes tumbling down in our minds. And then...then we get hit with the biggest falsehood of all.
"Just sit in this. It'll pass eventually. It's all part of the pressure of life."
I am telling you right now, in words as plain as I can: If I had sat in my MHC, and just felt the feelings, and pondered them, and talked about them, and accepted them as a part of my life and my journey...I would be dead.
That's the road my first mental health crisis was heading down.
Thank God that there were people around me who did NOT just listen and accept and say "you're safe with me" or "you're so brave for being willing to say it out loud."
PRAISE THE LORD that my mother pointed me toward the face of God Almighty, and my husband led me into the Word. I found life there. I found hope. I remembered the truth. Nothing is certain. Nothing is my right. Not one thing is controllable by me. ONLY. HE. IS. CERTAIN. (1 Peter 1:25)
A decade later, when my second MHC hit...I knew what to do.
And because I know what to do, I am sharing it.
I'm not saying you're not dealing with very real junk. We all do. It's part of being humans on a fallen planet. We all know that "in this world you will have trouble." But we forget to tell each other "TAKE HEART." He has overcome, and He gives us the same authority. (John 16:33 and 14:12)
I absolutely AM saying that most of the feedback from people on the issue is not the TRUTH.
The facts and the truth don't always agree. And I will side with Truth, unapologetically, every time.
Isaiah 44:18-20 (really the whole story starts in verse 12, but you can get the gist if you jump to 18) talks about a man who carves an idol and then worships it, refusing to think through the fact that he made it with his own hands, and therefore it cannot be GOD.
We have done this, brothers and sisters. On so many things. We are holding in our hands a thing that was never TRUE, and we refuse to look at it and say "Is this thing in my hand a lie?" (Isaiah 44:20b)
My attempt, in this polarizing blog post, has been to point out the truth in a world obsessed with just accepting the current crisis.
You don't have to just sit in your crisis. Fight back. Don't "do the work" of acceptance.
DO THE WORK of running toward the One who loves you, and wants to refine you.
If I can help you, I will. I will NOT pat you on the back and just let you sit there. But I will do my best to point you to the Lord.
That is what all followers of Jesus SHOULD be doing on this, and all issues of the day.
The TRUTH does not apologize for being truth.
