Just Like It Was Planned (by someone)

Last week I talked about the video. Well I made it through. Although the video was only a couple of minutes long, I found I was much more involved in the entire service than expected. The pastor introduced the sermon, then me, the video, then referred back to my story throughout his sermon. If you would like to see the video you can check it out here. There is also audio of the entire service available on the website.

There is no doubt about it, I felt very vulnerable and uncomfortable. I've shared before that I'm coming to a place where I finally understand that my brokenness is natural and I fear less making it known. I have also shared, however, that I have been in places where I was told it was all my fault; it was my lack of faith and something I could do would make me better. With that duality playing itself out in my mind it was a tough thing. I was emotionally stripped in front of everyone, not just the few folks I had always been comfortable with.

Even today I feel very vulnerable. I was asked yesterday, and agreed, to allow the video be placed on the church website. My sensibilities wholly disagreed with this, but knowing the request came from such an outpouring of requests that others be able to share the story, my soul burned that I let it go. Today I am without secrets, today my human shame is in overdrive.

I once used Don Henley's "Heart of the Matter" to talk through forgiveness. Obviously, if you know the song, that is its theme. But there are some sub-themes, and a line that always comes back to me is, "The more I know, the less I understand..." Wading through all of these emotions reminds me, once again, just how true that is. I would have never expected what has happened over the last few days.

As I was locked up in shame, fear, and vulnerability, the words that came from my mouth seemed to touch people. I really wanted nothing more than to slink out of the room Sunday, but something held me there. As soon as the service ended I was assaulted- assaulted in such a way as I did not understand. I knew this would help some people, but I understood that this would hinder me personally. My understanding was dead wrong.

There were people coming from across the building to speak to me. People asking questions like, "I need some help. Can I call you sometime?" "Will you talk to my daughter?" "I hurt just like that sometimes. Where do I go to make it stop?" "I would have never known... Can I help you sometime?"

I write and share for awareness. I share because I would rather be a fool before millions than have one person suffer alone, but when the rubber met the road the same fears come to call. It is amazing how, yet again, the Lord continues to save me. Jesus lifts my eyes to His, He gives me the Spirit to do something my conditions make me completely unwilling to do, and in that He saves others as well.

Will it be that some completely miss the message? Will it be that some will continue to judge those of us who can't 'just get over it'? Certainly. In this, though, I see that ones who can't 'just get over it' know they aren't alone, that they are needed; and I see at least a few who thought people with these issues just needed to 'get over it' are coming to learn to love better. That can only be the work of a Sovereign, Holy God.

Public Professions of Fear

It's no secret to anyone who reads this that I sometimes get anxious. I've made abundantly clear that, when all the bad stuff in my head starts working together, that's how it usually presents itself. I'm at peace with that. I don't like it, but I'm at peace with it.

The weird thing is I generally don't mind sharing that things play out that way. I am happy to tell most anyone, and readily share with anyone who would come here, about my struggles. This weekend I'm telling a new group in a different way. For some reason that has me completely freaked out.

I was asked some months ago to share some of the goings on in my life. I shared those thoughts and was asked to do a short video that would be used in our church services. A group filmed me talking about how depression, bipolar, and anxiety have played out in my life. I explained how I ended up in the hospital before Christmas last year and how the whole experience has really been a blessing and not a curse. I have not seen the video, but I was able to share genuinely without hesitation. It should be another blessing.

Last week I was told the video would be shown in this coming Sunday's church services. I went in knowing that was what we were doing this for, but as the day gets closer I get more anxious. While I'm still struggling with some pretty depressed periods, occasional "up" times, and minor anxiety, I have not have not been experiencing panic attacks at all. The prospect of the video, however, has sent me back into panic mode. I have had three since lunch yesterday.

Every fiber of my being is screaming, "Call it off! Just tell them not to show it. Tell them to do something else, anything. Don't show me in front of everyone. They'll call me crazy, tell me it's not a real disease, whisper about me when I walk the hall, and nothing I say will ever be taken seriously. I will forever be the church and town nut. It's as if my low sense of self-worth is feeding my anxiety, which in-turn is feeding back to low self-worth. I am struggling with this terribly.

There is no way I will back out. I want to and I want to be as far away as possible when they show the video. I know I can't, but it's what I want. In reality the video is about the same thing this blog is about. It is admitting to people that it's alright to be who you are. It's okay if all the pieces don't fit perfectly. The beauty of life and faith is that beauty of imperfection is made perfect through faith- that God picks up the brokenness and uses it for all sorts of good. No matter how scared, I know this video needs to be shared just as I share this blog and with people I people I speak with.

So I don't write this post to help or share as much as I write it to cope with my fears and expose myself to some reality. This is not new, it's something I do everyday. It's not something I'm ashamed of, afraid of, run from, or bow to. A lot of people may do the things I think they will but, if one person is helped by my story, anyone who thinks less of me afterwards really doesn't matter.