And yet, as I began to share my journey of faith there was no way to not take you there. Without taking you there, I can't really make you understand what it means that I'm here. That I'm functioning and going to work everyday. That I laugh and cry and stomp my feet, but all at appropriate times only. I say how I feel and most of the time deal with how I feel. I have days when I get down, but I know they are brief seasons, not all consuming years. My journey is one of healing and some days it feels so complete that I have a hard time believing my own story of depression. Other days, like while writing that last blog, if I dip my feet too deep in that water it washes over me in a way that is so fresh and cold it gives me shivers. I am 21 again, rocking a screaming baby, feeling lost and alone. And I want to tell myself to stay away from that water!!! I know for my own benefit that I can't go there often. But occasionally, I do. I will start talking with someone facing a similar challenge and I go there before I know it. And other times, like last week as I sat down to tell my story of faith, I needed to. I didn't really understand it. I felt an urgency, a pulling, a leading to share. Josh had been working on his sermons all day long and as soon as he got off the laptop I said, "I have to write!" I had to. I would not be able to function until I did. I didn't really understand it. Still don't know if I do. But as I hit "publish" and fought the nauseating fear that accompanies laying your life bare on the altar of Blogger, people began to respond. And relate. And reassure me that there was a reason I had just laid it all on the line. And mostly that reason is that while I have experienced healing, there are many people who are still walking through dark days, still stuck in the sea of depression. I need to remember that. I need to remember what God has done in my life so that I will not grow content in thinking that I somehow figured out how to pull it together. My friend, I assure you I did not. I also need to remember so that my heart does not lose compassion for those of you still wading through that water.
A huge part of my healing has been allowing myself to experience grace. You see, I experienced grace in the beginning of my spiritual journey when I fell in love with Jesus and embraced His welcoming, forgiving arms. I believed that He forgave me of things that happened in my past. I celebrated that He made me a "new creation". (2 Corinthians 5: 17). What I didn't fully understand was that His grace was an ongoing thing. That I would continue to struggle and fall and He would continue to love me. I took it upon myself that if I was a new creation, I had to prove to people it was true. Any misstep, any doubt, any area of imperfection would cause others to think, 'I knew it. She's not really a Christian.' Even as I type this I can't help but grin that I genuinely thought I could achieve perfection. Isn't that cute? :) I truly had no clue what life had in store for me. But it was pretty much a perfect storm designed to rid me of the idea that I could do it on my own.
I don't think any experience has taught me that more than motherhood. I always say that I can be so spiritual when I don't have to be around people. :) But alas, motherhood means being around people. Like, all the time. People who you helped bring into this world. People who are helpless and dependent and yet wildly independent and their own little wild cards thrown into the deck of perfection you expected your family to be. They come with ALL the feelings and through years of crying and tantrum throwing (sometimes they do those things, too) your idea of perfection changes from the family photos you see at Olan Mills, to a day when your child can finally ask, "Can I have some milk?" as opposed to throwing themselves into a concussion causing fit on the kitchen floor because you did not respond to their whining fast enough. *sigh*
And these days teach you what you somehow managed to miss in your younger years of Bible clubs and mission trips. GRACE. Because at the end of the day, you just accept that no matter how many books you read or how long you do this, you still have no idea what you're doing.
Some of you know that our dog Daisy had puppies and that was a highly anxiety ridden time for me. Because if I didn't know what to do with my own human children, lord knows I had no idea what to do with these furry ones!! But, it didn't matter. Daisy knew. She was such a pro. I cannot tell you how many times I have told Josh I wish I could be as good of a mom as Daisy. And wow, what does that tell you about my parenting skills? :) But it just seemed to come so naturally to her. She fed and cleaned those puppies like she had been trained by Mary Poppins. If we took one out to hold, she paced the house looking for it. As I pondered my dog's fantastic mothering skills one night (yes, this is what I've come to), it hit me that Daisy just did what nature told her to. She didn't have 15 books to read. She couldn't Google the best course of action for bedtime routines or how many hours you should read to your child. And it hit me just how overwhelming it is to be parent. I think sometimes we don't even know what nature is telling us as parents because we've already allowed so many thoughts, ideas and opinions to infiltrate our minds before our babies even take their first breath. We feel that we should be experts before they've had their first bath. We give ourselves no room for error.
We give ourselves no grace.
I now work as a Family Advocate and a big part of my job is educating parents on health issues, car seat safety, that kind of thing. Just last week we had someone come and do a car seat safety training. Did you know that if you wash the car seat cover it removes the flame retardant and is no longer safe to use? Y'all, I didn't know that. I'm sure my kids were protected by me being too lazy to ever wash the car seat cover, but still, all I could think was what a miracle it is that my children survived to this point. Because how much stuff do I not know? I also recently had someone tell me that their Dr. told them not to give their baby Tylenol before getting shots, which is exactly the opposite of what my Dr. told me. It's so hard. So confusing. When it comes to our kids, we want to do everything perfect. It's too much of a responsibility not to. Still, as safety regulations change on a yearly basis and different Dr.'s have different opinions, it doesn't feel like there is a perfect way. We have to educate ourselves and do the best we can and pray for a lot of grace.
In our house we have moved on from nursing vs. bottle feeding and when is the best age to potty train and will my children survive if they eat cheerios as their only food source for 5 months. They did survive, and the answer on the other things was different for all 3 of them. Now, we are on to do we totally shelter them and never let them watch TV or how much should they watch or do I suck it up and pretend to be cool with their wardrobe choices and let them express themselves and do I give them advice on friend drama or do I just listen? Guess what,y'all. It's still hard. And from what I hear, it just gets harder. I still want to beat myself up. I still question and second guess everything I do. I still mentally prepare my defense for the day Sarah grows up and asks, "Why did you let me wear that?" And I pray for a lot of grace.
Mostly, I've learned to say, "I don't know." Those 3 words used to be very hard for me. I grew up believing that I should always have an answer for any one who asked me about my faith. I transferred that onto the rest of my life. I should always know how to be an amazing wife and mother. I should always know the right thing to say in every situation. I should know how every situation should be handled at all times, whether family, church or work related. I should NEVER say, "I don't know."
There are some things I KNOW. You won't convince me otherwise. It's that firsthand, experiential knowledge that sears itself into your being. Or the Biblical, Spirit led conviction that has come from years of study and prayer. But, there are plenty of things I just.don't.know.
I cannot tell you how much freedom I have found in learning to say, "I don't know." Seriously, I just don't know. There are some things I have no clue about. And it is not from a lack of Googling, I promise. I can honestly say that about my faith, my marriage, my children, my friendships, my job, and pretty much anything else you want to ask me about. That used to send my perfectionist, need to prove myself little being into a tailspin. Now, it helps me breathe a little easier.
I don't know it all. But there's learning and growing and changing. And sometimes when we "know" it all, we miss those things. Especially on our faith journey. When we already know it all we have a tendency to stop learning and seeking. Somehow we have taught that we should come with a wealth of knowledge and operate like a Kirby salesman with a smooth sales pitch and never take no for an answer! I have no idea where that idea came from. All throughout Scripture we see human beings struggling to find their way, to follow Jesus, to leave what's behind, to focus on what's ahead. A struggle. A journey. A crooked path. Jesus is the WAY, but sometimes our attempts to follow Him take detours and distractions and pit stops. We don't want it to be that way. We want to come out of the gate strong and shoot a straight path, run the fastest, most precise race. We try, we really do. Hebrews 12:1 tells us to run the race with endurance, not perfection. It tells us to lay aside the weight of the sin that keeps us from running as well as we should. And some can just throw that sin right off and get on with it. And some have to persevere, keep fighting, limp, crawl, drag yourself, whatever it takes. Accept that you don't know all the answers. Give yourself grace for the mistakes. But whatever you do, don't drop out of the race.
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