He is SO close to the brokenhearted ...

You guys. Today. I. am. so. tired. But it has been a good day. My students were awesome and I'm excited about this new year. After almost a year of uncertainty, frustration, screaming and lots of crying it looks like my husband is going to have a good, stable job! That's huge for us! So it has been a great day!

I haven't blogged in a while, but I've been meaning to. I've just been so busy. Life just keeps moving on ...

I came home today after a really long, exhausting day. Whoever said there's no tired like teacher on the first day back at school tired was so right. Anyways I was so busy today I didn't really spend anytime online or keeping up with the cool kids. So when I got home I took a few minutes and read some Facebook and a few of the blogs I follow.

There are times when I write because I have something I want to say. There are other times I write because there is literally something burning inside of me. Tonight is one of those times.

I clicked on a link that took me to a blog written by a well known Christian blogger. Honestly, I know better than to read this guy's blog. We disagree on a lot of things and I usually get myself all worked up when I venture into the realm of his thoughts. But today I read it. I felt like I had been sucker punched in the stomach. The words he wrote were full of such arrogance and chastisement.

There was this...

"No, we are more than our brains and bigger than our bodies. Depression is a mental affliction, yes, but also spiritual. That isn't to say that a depressed person is evil or weak, just that his depression is deeper and more profound than a simple matter of disproportioned brain chemicals."

Then this...

"Second, we can debate medication dosages and psychotherapy treatments, but, in the end, joy is the only thing that defeats depression. No depressed person in the history of the world has ever been in the depths of despair and at the heights of joy at the same time."

I remember the day very clearly. We were living in this little town called Wewoka (I have some great memories of those sweet people). I worked at Varnum and I would drive about 20-30 minutes each day to and from work. It was a one lane highway with lots of traffic. I had driven the route many times. I was struggling. I didn't want anyone to know so I put on my smile day in and day out, but I was hurting.

We were in the middle of our infertility battle. There were so many losses and questions and frustrations and I just felt lost. I had been just kind of floating through life. The darkness had done so much more than closed in on me. There felt like there was literally no way out. Driving home that day, I saw a semi coming and for one brief moment I thought about what it would be like to swerve my car into his lane. He was barreling down the road at 70 and I figured I wouldn't stand a chance. I passed another semi and even clinched the wheel a little tighter preparing to swerve. Then I pulled my car off the road and cried until I had absolutely nothing left.

I remember walking into our house that afternoon. The husband was sitting on the couch and looked up at me as I walked in. He flew off the couch and grabbed me. I couldn't talk, all I could do was cry. I told him I thought I needed help.

I remember being so terribly afraid to say those words. I was the youth pastor's wife. What were people going to say? How were they going to react? But I knew that on my own, I couldn't not will myself to a better place. I had tried. I had prayed every prayer there was to pray. I'd begged God for healing. I'd begged him to fix me. I'd begged him to "restore the joy of my salvation" and make me normal again. But he hadn't. I knew I needed help.

I won't lie to you. I had sweet, very well meaning people tell me if I prayed harder things would change. They told me I must be hiding a "secret" sin. There was something not right between God and me. And I believed everyone of them.

I have come to believe that well meaning, sweet people should do us all a favor and keep their mouths shut. :)

I have come to accept that sometimes I need Jesus and he is more than enough. But other times I need Zoloft and you know what that's okay. It doesn't make me less spiritual. It doesn't alter my relationship with God.

I have read numerous blogs and articles this afternoon. Ninety percent of those have been fabulous. I'll link to a few of my favorites on the subject matter at the bottom, but there have been that 10 percent that are just plain garbage.

What is wrong with us as a people of God, as the body of Christ, that we are so quick to judge and throw stones? Why have we swayed so far to the other side that we now take every opportunity to lash out, not only at our fellow believers but how about just humans as a whole.

I have lived in that darkness. It continues to visit me more often than I would like. Yes, I wish it was as simple as praying it away. I wish I could go back to my roots, dive deep into the Word and just wash those broken thoughts right out of my head. But it doesn't work like that. At least not for me.

This new season of my life has left me a lot of opportunities for that darkness and despair to visit me. However, it has also given me so many different ways to celebrate. I'm basically losing the mother I know, but I am watching my child grow...it's two vast dichotomies.  But no matter how I try to focus on the positivity of one it does not negate the negativity of the other. So therefore, Mr. Walsh, I have to disagree.

I wanted to write this post because I want YOU to know that it's okay. You are not less spiritual.  No matter what some people want you to believe, we do not serve a God that rewards his faithful ones with lives of prosperity and well being and those of us who don't measure up are just destined to wallow in despair. That is not the God I know.

The God I know is a "refuge for the weak," he is "hope for the weary," and to quote one of my absolute most favorite bloggers, "he is close to the brokenhearted even if He feels far, far away."
(http://www.sortacrunchy.net)