Feathers and True Love

I woke up to a completely gorgeous 59-degree morning. I must be turning into a good little Minnesotan because I am tired of wearing shorts and t-shirts. I’m ready to break out the jeans and cooler weather clothes. (Notice I didn’t say “cold weather” just “cooler weather.” I’m not that Minnesotan.)

Sometimes I am struck with the realization that God gives us everything we need exactly when we need it. The warm sun, the brief gust of wind or the gentle breeze, the 59-degree morning, the friendships and relationships in our lives, the rough days, the beautiful days. He is in control of it all. And He knows what we need better than we do.

I think that’s why we pray. There is more than one reason why we pray, but I think we pray because we are acknowledging that God holds all things in His hands. In praying, we are giving God full control and full credit. We present our requests to God, meaning we hand them over to Him. Here are my desires Lord; here are my requests. But I’m giving them to You because I trust You, because You know better than I do. And You have the best in mind. Even in praying for something as simple as a safe drive or healing from an illness, it’s completely out of our hands, so we hand it over to God because it is completely in His hands.

A couple months ago I got a feather tattoo on my left arm. It has several different meanings, but the simplest explanation of the image is that it represents freedom. A bird cannot hang onto its old and broken feathers if it expects to fly to the best of its ability. There is a season for acknowledging our brokenness and taking the time to heal, but then there comes a time to molt, to remove our broken feathers so that we can fly again.

In May I felt like I had finally arrived at this place of freedom, like my healing was complete for this season of my life. So I got the reminder permanently inked onto my body, and somehow that action resulted in: cue Satan, stage right. The joy-stealer. The one who makes you question everything you thought true. The one who intentionally drags you through the mud.

And so I looked at my feather tattoo and thought Was I wrong to think I was done healing from these particular wounds? Was I premature in displaying my freedom so blatantly? Satan would like me to think so. And even though I’ve made a permanent choice to be free from my past, Satan will throw doubts at me to get me to think otherwise.

But my freedom is permanent because Jesus died for it. And yes I have hurts, and yes I have healed, and yes I will have more hurts and more seasons of healing. But Jesus died for all that.

And it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around, because it is the most ultimate act of love. And love, true love, is puzzling and challenging and even uncomfortable because it’s foreign.

I sheepishly admit to you that the other day I was watching an episode of the Flash. The supposed villain of the episode turned out not to be a villain after all. Plot twist. Anyway, at the end he said, 

“Love is about letting yourself be saved, it’s not just about saving other people.”

I tend to think the opposite. I often think love is a one-way street. I think love is about doing for others. I expect others to receive love, but I don’t accpet it for myself. I struggle to receive love from other humans. I struggle to receive love from Jesus. I struggle to accept that He died for my freedom because of love.

Love is scary. It’s daring. It’s an adventure. It’s unlike anything else we have or will experience. And as long as I am in Christ, abiding in Him, I have every reason to ink my freedom onto my arm. And that inking doesn’t mean the past is gone. I can look at my feather and remember the past, because in remembering the past I become more aware, more humbled, more grateful for the love that Jesus is. 

Honesty, Vulnerability, and the Hard Topics

Summer is well under way. The days are warm. The nights are cool. The sun hangs around for a good long while allowing us to cram in as many outdoor activities as we can before we are forced into hibernation once again. My summer has been quiet and beautiful. I spend my days taking care of my two nanny girls, and I usually spend my evenings outside actively-relaxing.

So, the thing is, life isn’t always good. (Sorry if this comes as a surprise to you.)  

I can say that my summer has been beautiful because I have learned that ugly can be beautiful. Beauty isn’t defined by sunshine. But, in a lot of ways, although beautiful, this past month has been challenging.

The following is something that I am not open about, at all. I try to ignore it and suppress it, pretending it doesn’t exist or thinking if I fight hard enough it will go away. But it isn’t going to go away. And it is something God has allowed, so here we go:

Mental disorders.

They’re horrible. I have spent a long time learning and I’m continuing to learn how to live with mine. I hate it. I have “flare ups” every now and then when things get a little too out of control. This past month has been one of those times.

There are certainly contributing factors like the weather or my circumstances or encounters in a day, but a lot of it is just there because it’s chemical. I do a lot to cope and stay balanced so most of the people in my life have no idea it’s even a thing for me. Which is exactly how I like it.

Even with these coping skills and ways I counteract my disorder, I recognize that there are times when I am actually stuck and I can’t help how I’m feeling. I just have to ride it out and wait for the storm to pass.  

However, I believe that I do have a choice. Depending on the severity of the episode, I can make the choice to stay quiet or ask for help. I can make the choice to go for a walk or stay inside. Most of the time (not always) I do have an ability to fight, but it’s hard.  

Often, I have found that when I’m struggling (mental disorder or not, this applies to everyone) it’s because my focus has turned inward. I’m thinking too much about my current mental state and my woes and how bad I feel. Sometimes I can’t help it, because it’s chemical (I have to keep reminding myself). However, I do think it is possible to fix my eyes on something (or someone) other than myself.

Yesterday I made the choice to fight through my day and not give into the temptation to stay in bed. I didn’t want to fight, but at the same time I did want to. I figured if God woke me up for yesterday then I may as well go ahead and live it to the best of my ability. Because He calls us to live, and be alive and fully engaged.

And while I drove to take care of my two nanny girls I listened to a song by Matthew Mole:

And if I am your child, then why should the slightest of fears overcome my line of sight? I’ll be more inclined to you.

And then I was reminded of Peter walking on water. The only reason why he started to sink was because he took his eyes off Jesus.

All it takes is a slight glance. Initially, I don’t even have to move. I only need to shift my eyes from looking downward to looking upward once again.

Something that I love about Paul’s message regarding the Armor of God in Ephesians 6 is that it only ever says “stand.” Not “stand and fight.” Jesus has done and is doing the fighting for us. All we have to do is make the choice to stand. To look up and gaze into His face.

And it is the upward-turned eyes that make it possible to call ugly days beautiful. Smiles can be had on both cloudy days and sunny days, I promise. I haven’t always believed this, and I don’t always believe this. Two days ago I would not have been able to type these words, but that is because my eyes were cast down.

I can’t do anything about my mental disorder. It’s there. It’s a part of my life. Sometimes it takes over my life more than I’d like it to, and other times I can function rather normally. But regardless, through each “episode” and each roller coaster of a day, all I need to do is keep my eyes turned slightly upward. 

Afterthoughts:

So, maybe this post is more for me than for you. A chance for me to tear a little bit of my wall down and reveal that I don't actually have everything all figured out. To unveil that I am human and I struggle a lot. Or maybe it's to speak up and encourage others with mental disorders. It's not an easy life we have to live. I know there will be days ahead when friends will attempt to recite these words back to me and I won't be able to receive them. But I also know that there will be days when I will be breathing and smiling and full of life. Regardless, Jesus is present. He is fighting for us. Keep your eyes on Him.