Maxi Dresses and Masterpieces

I finally found a maxi-dress that isn’t too long for my short stature.  Maxi dresses are just sundresses, except they are exceptionally long.  My daughter has been wearing them all summer, and they look so comfy and cute on her.  Of course, she is tall and thin, and I am short and, well, more padded.  So imagine my delight when I stumbled across one that fit perfectly on sale!

But now that I have this beautiful dress, I have no idea where to wear it.  It seems silly to just wear it around the house, although Chris has expressed his desire for me to still dress nice even if I am staying at home.  And that made me wonder why we save our best and most beautiful things for guests and strangers.  We dress up to go out, we get out the china for guests, and we are courteous in our speech in front of new acquaintances. 

Sure, I want to feel like I can “be myself” when I am at home and with close family and friends.  But sometimes I think they get cheated of the best and most beautiful parts of me.  Am I as gentle and kind as I can be?  Do I make Love a way of life?

Sometimes I think a big piece of Duct tape, slapped across my mouth, would make the most charming accessory.  Those are days when I have forgotten the most important thing to wear…my new self, given to me by my Father, when I asked Him to be Lord over my life:

Put on your new nature, created to be like God—truly righteous and holy….be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.  Ephesians 4:24, 32

When I am getting dressed in the morning, do I remember to wear my “new nature”?  If I am ”being myself” and insulting or ignoring someone else’s feelings, then I have definitely forgotten to put on the most important piece of my wardrobe.

I am so thankful that my family and friends accept me even when I forget my “new nature”.  They are gracious enough to recognize that we are all works in progress, that the “new nature” is not something that transforms you immediately.  Rather, it is a life-long process of working and molding us as we slowly are transformed more and more in the image and likeness of our Father.

For we are God’s masterpiece.  He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.  Ephesians 2:10

I am like an oil painting.  Layer after layer is placed on my canvas, but not all at once.  Each layer must have time to dry and mature before another layer is successfully painted.  It is a long, protracted process; taking patience and time.  But my Father is the King of Patience, and Lord over Time, so He is up to the task of working on me and painting a beautiful creation in His image.

Perhaps I will wear that maxi-dress around the house, so the beauty I see covering me can remind me of the beauty God is working to create within me.

Natural Beauty

Recently, my husband found a hornet’s nest being built in my father’s young maple tree.  It was fairly close to eye level, and gave us the opportunity for inspection of its design in relative safety.  The intricacy of the work in creating layer after layer was astounding.  It looked like the strata of the Grand Canyon had been reproduced on a miniature scale and wrapped around a small orb.  The resulting effect made the nest blend almost perfectly into the bark of the tree, allowing the hornets a “secret entrance” into their home.

I’ve been reading Crazy Love by Francis Chan.  Early in the book he challenges you to see the majesty and grandeur of God in not only the large scale of the universe, but in the minutiae of life.  That’s what I thought of when I saw this hornet’s nest.  These small, nearly brainless creatures were given the instincts to create a home of incomparable design and beauty.  But because we view them as “pests”, we rarely take the time to appreciate the intelligence behind their Maker.  

I’m not saying we should begin breeding hornets or anything like that.  My dad quickly dispensed of the nest the night after it was discovered; hornets are a danger to the children that often play in the area near the nest.  But even things that must be destroyed can be appreciated and their Maker praised.

It makes me wonder what place these delicate creatures played before the fall of creation.  How were they a help and not a danger?  Or are they some form of mutation from something originally benign?  

I can look at myself and ask the same questions.  The mental issues that I deal with are most likely at least in part genetically wired into my brain.  Certainly some form of OCD and anxiety in a person could be helpful in allowing her to complete tasks efficiently, be passionate about something, and deal successfully with dangers.  But somewhere along the way, they got out of control and spiraled into something harmful.  

What if I were to take a moment and appreciate the beauty behind the illness?  What would I see?

I think about the counting issues first.  Silly little numbers that get stuck in my head; like the 22 separate pieces of wood used to make the child’s rocker in the living room of a friend’s house, or the average of 18 spindles that are between posts on my front porch.  I think of Noah and Joseph.  They had to work quickly with numbers, and with the scarcity of paper at the time, I wonder how much information they needed to carry around in their heads to have available at a moment’s notice.  I can see counting on impulse being used as a gift.  That is, if it could be focused and controlled.

The need to have things in a particular order and to clean them “just so” would be a quality the Levites would have appreciated as they cared for the Tabernacle and the Temple.  I know that this issue frequently reminds me how imperfect I am, how perfection can never be achieved, and the need for a Savior in my life.  That can be a good thing, as long as I allow the thoughts to lead me to a deeper dependence on Jesus.

Like the hornet’s nest, parts of ourselves that we find ugly can turn into something beautiful when we take a moment to remember the One who is in charge of it all. He can take any part of your life and create a masterpiece out of it, if you are willing to allow Him entrance to your secret places.

“My grace is all you need.  My power works best in weakness.”  2 Corinthians 12:9(NLT)

Spousal Support

I’ve talked about the benefits of therapy for myself, but haven’t discussed the effects of therapy on my husband. 

I think in many cases, certainly it is true for me, that by the time therapy is sought, the issue that needs addressed has been going on in the family for a long time.  The family has adjusted its view of “normal” around the issue, and has tried to cope by accommodating or ignoring the problem.  When therapy is finally sought, the spouse is exhausted from dealing emotionally with the needs of their partner. 

My therapy focused on my needs at first.  Chris was asked to change some of the ways he talked and listened to me.  He had to pay attention not only to my behaviors, but also to adjust the way he reacted to me.  It made him feel neglected at times, like his needs didn’t matter.  At other times, he was downright mad at me.

Fortunately, I married an exceptionally patient man.  He didn’t berate me or complain about the extra effort required of him.  He has attended some of my therapy sessions and dealt with some of his patterns of behavior that contributed to my problems.  He has willingly worked to be more communicative with me, as requested by our therapist.  Chris says:

I didn’t have the knowledge and experience to know what Michelle needed in our relationship.  I had to learn how to talk to her and what to do to heal the “we.”

Going through this journey with me has been emotionally and physically challenging for Chris.  I can only imagine that it would be even more difficult for spouses that are more emotionally oriented than Chris.  He can look logically at a situation and follow a formula for the benefit of all involved, regardless of how he feels about it.  Most of us can’t do that.  I know that if the roles were reversed, I would have struggled to be as supportive as he has been.  I asked Chris about the challenges, and he responded by saying:

 I think it’s normal to be angry, and easy to become bitter.  I know I was the first time we struggled with your mental illness.  What’s different this time for me is that I learned to focus beyond myself and ask, “What does God want?” Obviously, he doesn’t want us to separate or be distant from each other….  Counseling may be needed to get beyond the anger and bitterness.  I wasn’t ready for counseling the first time because I was focused on the unfairness to me.  This time, I focused on God and us as a single unit.

 “What about me?” is a question that I believe most spouses struggle with during therapy, and Chris is no exception.  I recall him asking our therapist, “So am I supposed to stuff my feelings when they differ with Michelle’s forever?”   Of course, the answer to that question is “No,” but for a time, he felt like my needs were overwhelming.

My therapist has told me repeatedly that just because I am the identified patient, it doesn’t mean that the rest of the family doesn’t need some sort of help too.  Families are intertwined units, and they act and react according to the behaviors of each other.  Spouses who are willing to look at their own faults and emotional issues will be better equipped to contribute to healing the relationship.  Sacrificial giving, loving as Jesus loves, reaps long-lasting benefits in the emotional health of the needy partner, and eventually reveals itself in the health of the relationship.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

I was sitting on the couch, talking to Chris and Carina, when I started feeling water splashing on my arm and face.  “Where is that coming from?” I thought.  Then suddenly, I knew.

Looking up, I found water dripping from the ceiling in two places.  Again.  This is a recurring problem in our house.  It started nearly two years ago, on Christmas morning, when I was given the dubious gift of rain in the living room.  Since then, it has rained several times in the spaces below the upstairs bathrooms.  I think we should call a plumber.  Chris thinks he can fix it himself.

When to call a professional instead of dealing with a problem on your own can be difficult to determine, especially when the problem is intermittent and viewed as a non-emergency.  It can be shocking to see what we acclimate ourselves to consider “normal” by slowly getting used to the abnormal.

Depression and other mental illnesses have had a similar progression in the life of our family.  After nearly five years of dormancy, I began having symptoms two years ago.  Little things at first…crying more frequently, cancelling time with friends, not answering the phone.  As time went by, my husband and children began to view my behaviors as simple peccadillos, and not symptoms of a deeper issue.  We thought we could manage the problem on our own, that it would subside like it had in the past.

But with time, the symptoms increased.  I started tapping my fingers incessantly, cleaning rooms repeatedly, sleeping long hours.  Chris was worried, and called our physician to prescribe an anti-depressant for me.  It didn’t work.  Although it did decrease many of the OCD behaviors, it didn’t cure the wound within me.  I started hurting myself to alleviate the pain I felt.

That’s when I knew I needed more help that what we could do on our own.  Getting so far from acceptable “normal” behavior, I could no longer look at what I was doing and ignore the consequences of my actions.  When I had been feeling that bad in previous years, I didn’t have children to consider.  But knowing that I had a deep responsibility to them made me realize that if I didn’t get assistance, I probably wouldn’t survive to see my kids grow up.

Admitting that this problem was more than we could handle on our own, and contacting a trusted counselor was one of the most difficult things that I have ever done.  I remember barely being able to send him the initial email because I was shaking with anxiety and struggling to type the correct keys. 

It has been nearly a year since then, and I am so grateful for what has been done in my life.  I have had to be brutally honest with myself; open myself up to others in ways I have never done before; ask for help—emotional, physical, and spiritual support; and change many of my ways of thinking.  And I couldn’t have done it without the assistance of a professional.

Sometimes the rain of difficulties becomes a downpour.  I am so glad that we have had someone to stand with us and help us find the sunshine again.  Professional counseling has brought light and laughter back into this family.

If the shoe fits...

 My husband and I are taking our annual weekend away in Bloomington, IN.  We stay in a lovely bed and breakfast, the Showers Inn (www.showersinn.com), and he takes a class at IU while I relax, read, and shop.  We eat at quaint restaurants (last night it was Afghan food at Samira’s), and spend a day shopping in Nashville, IN, on our way home.

This is one of my favorite weekends of the year.  Having a day all to myself, free from responsibilities and obligations, to do whatever I please, is a pleasure beyond words.  I am currently in the bay window nook of our suite, drinking coffee and enjoying the view.  It’s a good time for introspection.

I have been struggling with feelings of insignificance as the new school year is coming upon us and the impact of not being gainfully employed is coming fully home.  Yesterday Chris and I went shoe shopping (another perk of this trip), and I couldn’t find anything useful to buy, knowing that I wouldn’t be dressing for work (and if you knew what a shoe fetish I have, this would truly shock you).  

But this morning I came across this verse while reading the bible:

                So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable.  Always work enthusiastically for the Lord, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless.  1 Corinthians 15:58(NLT)

This got me thinking.  My feelings of insignificance are just that—feelings.  Reality is quite different.  Nothing I do for the Lord is useless.  So if I spend this year at home, I can still make an impact, even if I don’t feel it.  I’ve learned over the past year that many feelings I have are false feelings; that looking past them to the reality beyond is imperative to having a healthy and fulfilled life.  I may not feel fulfilled in the way I did when I was working with at-risk children, but spending time with my own children offers a world of opportunities for the cultivation of our relationship.

Actually, this school year could be like this weekend.  I am freed from many responsibilities and obligations.  Allowing the Spirit to move and work in my life, to direct my steps; this could provide open doors and experiences that will be a pleasure beyond words.  But only if I am willing to put my agenda behind and follow the leading of my Father will I be able to accomplish this:

Let me hear of your unfailing love each morning,

For I am trusting you.

Show me where to walk,

For I give myself to you.

--Psalm 143:8(NLT)

Waking up each morning, giving all I am to the Lover of my soul, and taking the path He has designed especially for me can create an environment where amazing things will happen. 

With this in mind, I am starting to get excited about the opportunities this year will bring.  But if I’m going to be doing all this walking, I may need a new pair of shoes after all….

Puppy Love

I have a tiny puppy sleeping on my lap right now.  He was an early birthday present from Chris; after my puppy-sitting experience, he thought perhaps having my very own snuggly dog would be a good thing for me.  So we picked out a cuddly lap-dog breed (actually, a therapy dog breed), looked for dogs in the area, and found a breeder within 15 minutes of our house.  Not only was she nearby, but her dogs had a litter six weeks ago, and the pups were just ready to leave home.  Several hours later, I became the proud momma of a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.  We named him Charlie Brown, and I am in love…

 I could talk about Charlie ad nauseum, but that’s not the point.  I am turning 39, and my life-long dream of owning my very own puppy has just been realized.  Never mind that in this house there live two dogs, two cats, a rabbit, and we lease a horse next door. None of those animals are mine.  What this home needed was another pet…well, maybe not.

What captivates me is having this teensy little thing, all wobbly and squeaky, who already thrills to the sound of my voice (as evidenced by the thumpy tail).  And I have the experience and confidence from pet ownership to be calm and knowledgeable about how to care for him.

I know, I’m getting to the point.  Here it is:  Dreams come true, and they are realized in God’s perfect timing.  Could I have cared for a puppy when I was ten?  Or twenty?  Or even thirty?  No!  No matter how I thought when I was a child, living in the family I had, there was no way that it would have been a positive experience.  Now I have a husband and two responsible children who are just as enamored with this puppy as I am.  I have helpers in abundance who find caring for the puppy an honor and not a chore.

So I’m dreaming BIG.  I’m not giving up.  Dogged(ha) persistence without expectations can achieve great things when the Creator of the World is involved.  I’m praying with hope for as long as it takes.  39 years to get a puppy.  I haven’t prayed for mental health as long as I’ve prayed for a puppy.

Recently, I’ve had the perspective that “this is as good as it’s going to get.”  I had decided that my mental health would not improve any more than it has.  But having another irrational dream realized has brought me to the perspective that nothing, nothing, is too big or too little for my Father to care about.  And if he can give the gift I request, he will do it when he knows it will be good for me.

The culmination of proper medication, emotional support from friends and family, spiritual healthiness, and development of confidence in myself has brought about a mental strength and clarity that I haven’t felt in over a year.  I feel wonderful and so very blessed right now. This respite from the mental storm is like taking a deep breath after being under the water.  I’m reasonable enough to know that storms are ahead, whether from within or without.  I appreciate this moment of calm to further strengthen myself, and to have the wherewithal to be able to jump into situations where I can give to others my Father places in my path.

                Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy.

                They weep as they go to plant their seed,
                but they sing as they return with the harvest.

                --Psalm 126:5,6(NLT)

I am constantly amazed and overwhelmed by my Father’s ability to take negative experiences and turn them into opportunities for the expression of His love through me to others.  I know that He weeps when I weep, and then He goes to work to turn my tears to joy. Thank you, Father, for your great love for me; that you count every hair on my head and every tear I cry.  Thank you for being my Good Father who gives good gifts; gifts I had lost hope that they would ever come.  Thank you for a little puppy named Charlie and the hope he symbolizes to me.