Courage, Dear Heart

Today I wanted to write about something that affects around 16 million adult Americans every year: Depression. I’m sure many of you who are reading this have suffered from depression at some point in your lives, and I’m no exception. I’ve been very open about my mental illnesses on this blog. You’ve read that I’ve been diagnosed with anxiety, OCD, PTSD, and depression. But depression is really the one thing I haven’t talked about…mostly because I’ve been deluding myself. I’ve known that it’s been a part of my life, but I’ve done my best to ignore it. I’ve always attributed my symptoms to other things – for instance, dissociation from the PTSD. At times, I just thought it was my personality. Perhaps I’m not meant to “feel” things deeply; perhaps I just am apathetic. Maybe I don’t really care about things… maybe I wasn’t meant to be happy. This is going to be a really hard blog for me to write. My walls are so high that I haven’t even been able to let my husband see ...

Dear God, I’m sorry. I know that I’ve sounded so faithless lately. I don’t want You to think I’m ungrateful for the blessings You’ve given me, but I’m hurting so bad. I know You gave me a diagnosis. I know I finally got an answer for so much of what has plagued me for so long. But I thought that once I got that diagnosis and started my treatments, I would get better. Why am I still so sick? Dear God, I’m in so much pain. I lay awake at night in agony. My bones, muscles, joints and organs are screaming at me. I cry and I pray and I try everything I can, but nothing helps. The doctors are saying I’m doing everything right, and that it’s just going to take time. But I look at these last 12 ½ long years, and I’m just so tired. Dear God, Why won’t You heal me? I know that You hear me. I know that these last few weeks as I have screamed Your name and cried these tears that You haven’t been absent. So why am I not getting better? I know that You have the power. I know that Y...

If you know me, then you know that I’ve spent a lot of my life really sick. Unfortunately, I’ve also spent a lot of my life apologizing for being sick. Lately I’ve been looking back on all of these years I’ve spent saying sorry: sorry that I have to cancel plans, sorry that I’m not up to talking on the phone, sorry I can’t take a road trip, sorry I can’t help someone move or cook or clean, sorry I have to miss parties or get togethers…and now I can’t help but think – Why? Since I was thirteen, I’ve been diagnosed with and suffered from dozens of different things: autoimmune diseases, certain forms of arthritis, fibromyalgia, small fiber neuropathy, muscle and joint spasms, severe insomnia, an extra heartbeat, anemia, ulcers, intestinal and stomach damage, hair loss, unexplained rapid weight gain, celiac disease, allergies, night terrors, severe adrenal fatigue – the list is endless. I’m exhausted all of the time and in pain all of the time. So why do I need to apologize? An...

I titled this blog “Through the Fire” because I believe so many of us are walking through flames. I have people whom I love so dearly who are going through heartbreak and pain, family members suffering, and my own issues. If you’ve read my blog before, then you know I will never put my pain above anyone else. There are hurts and aches in this world I could never begin to imagine; my only goal is to bring hope and God’s affirmation to the suffering. God helps me do this through sharing my story. I hope this particular blog can bring some of the Lord’s hope into your heart . These last four months have been really hard on my husband and I. After months of health issues and several ER visits, I finally got diagnosed with Celiac’s disease. I had to eat gluten for the nearly two-months before the procedure to confirm the biopsy; if you know anything about Celiac’s, then you know how badly this messes you up. I now have intestinal damage, damage to the lining of my stomach, ulcers, al...

“Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8, NIV). If anyone knew anything about Satan’s war against us, it was Peter. And if you know Peter’s journey, then you know that more often than not he stumbled and fell in the midst of those battles…just like so many of us. That’s why I love Peter so much – he’s so incredibly relatable. The ups and downs in his journey showcase a man who truly loved Jesus with all of his heart, yet his humanness got in the way. This was a man who went from denying Jesus as He was being crucified for our sins – for Peter’s sins – to a man who stood in front of the Sanhedrin (a council which literally held the power of life and death over Peter’s head) and said, “Which is right in God’s eyes: to listen to you, or to Him? You be the judges! As for us, we cannot help but speak about what we have seen and heard ” (Acts 4:19, NIV). Peter’s journey through his own humanness ...

I have been watching the limited series on Netflix, “Unbelievable.” And let me tell you – my blood is boiling. If you aren’t familiar to the series, it’s based on a true story where a young woman was bullied into recanting a true rape statement by the police and family members. Finally, years later, proof came out that she had been telling the truth. She was able to sue the state, but the emotional damage had been done. She lost all of her friends and family. And I couldn’t help but think… I have been her. I have been the girl who decided to go to the police. I have sat while a detective questioned my story over and over again, with not-so-veiled blaming statements such as, “If you knew he was abusive, why would you get in the car with him?” I have been the girl who was accused of lying, not just by a friend, but by almost every single person on my college campus, including my two best friends, who actually took my abuser’s side – a man who’d sexually assaulted me the night ...

Since going public with my blog in November of 2017, I’ve often felt like I am “playing Cinderella.” All of a sudden I had these swarms of well-meaning people doing their absolute best to squeeze their feet into my fragile glass slippers. I couldn’t understand why – I mean, didn’t they see how breakable they were? Didn’t they see how scared I was to walk around in something so clear - so see-through - that all of my vulnerabilities were out in the open? Why would anyone ever want to fit into these slippers? Didn’t they see the pain it caused me? About six months after coming out with my blog, I met with a friend. She is sweet, well-meaning, and compassionate, but she couldn't understand the hell that I had walked through. Our lunch was going really well, until all of a sudden she said, “But if I was getting raped, I would fight back.” My stomach completely dropped and my throat swelled up. I had to blink the tears away so that she couldn’t see just how deeply she had ...