Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

If there’s one thing I know about myself to be true its that I love to start things and hate to finish them.  New things are fun and exciting…old things are, well…old. 

Here’s something else I know about myself…I get stuck in the desert every year at Lent.  I’m sure a lot of it has to do with this being when all my memories about my old life rise to the surface but it messes me up every year.  I get ansy for spring.  I get ansy for the anniversary of “D Day” to come and go.  I get ansy because my life still isn’t what I want it to be so it can bring God the most glory. 

I started blogging a little over four years ago right at the peak of my depression.  Blogging has been many things to me over the years…a safe place to let go, a sane place to rest my head, and (most important of all) a place where I could meet up with other Christians and dig deep into the Word and Walk of Jesus. 

I’ve always said I’d never stop blogging. 

I guess I was wrong. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

I looked around the other day and realized I don’t post much any more.  There are several reasons, really, but the big one is this: I just don’t feel called by the Holy Spirit to write any more.  More and more He leads me to pick up the camera instead of the pen (or keyboard as the case may be.)  My life is fluid in my photography – it is static in my writing.  I am not sure how or when it happened – but it has.  It really has.  I thought writing the top ten lessons I’ve learned would help me rekindle the fire; instead, I’m dried up and unmoved to finish.  Besides, if you’ve all been paying attention for the past four years you know what the lessons are anyway, right? 

Will I ever blog again?  Maybe.  I never say never.  I don’t think it will be any time soon, though.  I know that God will find another person to pick up where I am leaving off so that doesn’t have me worried in the least.  I am proud to have used my writing, my blogs, my thousands of posts to think my way through the challenges of walking alongside Christ.  I also know that it is time to let it go.  I will keep the friends I’ve met here…I love you all more than you can ever know…but it’s time to grow in a different direction.

What will I do with my time? 

Pray more.  Study the bible more in depth.  Take more time to dwell with God one-on-one.  I’ll continue to grow my skills as a photographer and search out how I can bring the most glory to God in this particular area.  I’ve come such a long way in the year that I’ve had my DSLR but I have so far still to go.  I’m hoping to start up some new ventures in this area and right now, with life the way it is, there just isn’t enough time. 

I know many of you will be shocked by this post and I’m sorry about that – I really am.  God has laid it on my heart that the time for change is now and so I’m rolling with the punches.  I thank you all so very much for sharing in my journey – for lighting my way – for teaching and mentoring me in those early days.  Please stay in touch by email and I promise to drop in from time to time and see how life is treating you on your blogs.  For me, though, I know in my heart it is time.  He has strengthened me and grown me to become the person I am now – fully healed and forever indebted – and I am ready to rely on Him for all my needs.  He is the way, the truth and the life and I will never doubt that again as long as I live. 

I ask that you pray for my continued humility in His presence.  Pray that I hear His voice clearly as I make my way through the desert once again.  Pray that I never take his grace and mercy for granted in my lifetime.  And please pray that I become the person He’s always known I could be. 

I am ready to let go now.  I no longer fear falling down because I now know who it is that has my back.  I wish you all a wonderful and blessed life.  I hope you let me continue to be a part of it.  My love for you, like my love for Him, knows no bounds.  With that, I shall end it all here and say a simple 

Peace out………………………….

The Big Stick

Petee.  On the deck.  Entertaining himself.  With a big stick.

He’s such a cheap date.

Morning Moon

The last two mornings the moon has been unbelievable.  I grabbed my camera bag on the way to work this morning and took a few quick shots.  I’m off tomorrow for my d-day celebration so I’m going out bright and early to try some fancier timed exposures. 

This was it as I pulled into the parking lot this morning.  Wow.  Just gorgeous.  Make sure you look out your windows tonight/tomorrow – it’s probably the last day of the full moon and it’s a humdinger.

A Love Poem

 

grace and mercy…

who knew?

 

(you did. )

 

and now i forever love you.

 

amen.

amen.

amen.  

 

Lesson No. 3: Let Go, Let God

In July of 2005 I found a church – quite by mistake mind you – but, nevertheless, it’s where I was destined to attend.  After several weeks of attending I emailed the senior pastor and told him I was blogging about my experiences at his church and he emailed me back and asked to meet me.  A week or two later I walked up front after the service and said hello to Pastorman. 

 

A few weeks after that I met Shannon – our resident outgoing party girl Pastorette.  Through a twist of fate she ended up being assigned to me as my mentor and we laughed about the fact that we both owned pugs – hers a sweet old girl named Ellie. 

 

I was beginning to get acclimated to church life – to doing something on Sundays besides watching the Chiefs lose repeatedly – and that’s when I notices something I had never noticed before: my legs were swelling at night.

 

At first I thought it was because I was sitting at the computer blogging so much at night but soon realized they were swelling when I went on walks, too.  As summer wore on I was starting to put all the pieces of my life back together again and had found a renewed sense of joy returning to my life.  The thing with my legs was really starting to bug me, though. 

 

After a few weeks of wondering what was going on I finally went in to the doctor and saw his physician’s assistant.  She listened to my symptoms and went through my medical history and then she said something I’ll never forget: Let’s send you to have a chest x-ray. 

 

What? 

 

I asked her how she went from swollen feet to my needing a chest x-ray and she guaranteed me it was probably nothing but it would rule out a few things.  She wrote me a script to get in to the nearby imaging center and told me to go today.  I didn’t like the sound in her voice and I almost blew it off because I couldn’t understand what the point was of going for tests simply to “rule things out.”  At the last moment, I changed my mind and went to have the x-ray. 

 

I was told that my doctor would contact me sometime the middle of the following week with any news so I went home and never gave it another thought. 

 

I never did get a call – I ended up going back to see the doctor for something else a few days later (that NEVER happens) and the first thing out of his mouth was “Why haven’t you gone and had your echo yet?”

 

Again…

 

What?

 

Someone had forgotten to give me the results of the x-ray which was that my heart looked to be enlarged and now they were recommending an echocardiogram.  Again, I was told it was only to rule things out…probably going to be nothing…don’t even worry about it…but, oh, let’s get you in today. 

 

Back I went…had the echo…was told my doctor would call me within a few days to give me the results.  Again…no phone call…no phone call…no phone call…

 

I showed up at his office a few days later and asked if he would mind giving me my test results.  He thought someone already had.  I threatened to quit his practice if someone didn’t get their head out of their backside and he wholeheartedly agreed but then he went on to tell me something was definitely wrong and I needed to go see a cardiologist and the sooner the better. 

 

I had a series of tests, a series of exams, saw a series of doctors and by September we had a diagnosis: I was in heart failure at the age of 45. 

 

The good news: there was a new wonder drug that would probably be able to not only stop the progression of the heart disease but even reverse it to some degree. 

 

The bad news: it didn’t work on everyone. 

 

And so it began…three months of slowly titrating up the dosage on the new medications – constantly being so tired I could barely make it through the day, constantly on the verge of tears.  Every time I looked at little Gracie I wondered if I would be alive to see her turn one years old in January.  The thought was pretty humbling, let me tell you.  As I progressed through the series of changes and waited for the drugs to do their thing I had to learn my next lesson:

 

Let go and let God. 

 

Facing your own mortality a few short months after facing down suicide left me with so many questions.  Did God arrange for me to be saved because I was about to die?  What if I had said no?  What if I had killed myself before I found out I was in heart failure and hadn’t accepted Christ as my Savior? 

 

The questions that reeled through my mind were endless and I was beside myself most of the time…but I had my new church family to walk with me through the struggle and their advice of “giving it to God” was exactly what I needed to hear.  My blogging buddies were telling me the same thing and I found their advice to be exactly what I needed.  I didn’t have to carry all my burdens alone any more – now I had God to carry them for me.  Every time I found myself head first in worry I’d stop and pray – stop and open my heart to him – and ask for the power to be healed one more time. 

 

Early December brought another set of tests and another echocardiogram with the news that I had waited to hear: the heart failure had been reversed – the medication was working – and I was on my way back towards being my old self again. 

 

I have never forgotten that lesson – to give all my worries to God – that He alone has the power to protect me, prepare me and give my life purpose.  I have to have faith in the process of trusting Him to know what is best for me and  I have to be willing to rely on him to be there for me not only in the moment of my death but in the moments of my life, as well. 

Lesson No. 2: Always Kiss The Dog

Three days after I came out of my depression I was online looking for a new puppy.  I had to put both my Old English Sheepdogs down in 2004 because of health-related problems and old age and I was suddenly missing the interaction with a dog in the worst way.  I decided to check into French Bulldogs because a friend of mine had one and he was so totally adorable but they were extremely pricey so I moved on to the next best thing – pugs. 

 

There was a woman not far from where I lived who had a batch ready for a good home but all she had left were males.  I had always preferred female dogs because of the perpetual ‘humping’ of male dogs but was willing to take a male if that was all that was available.  I called her up and asked if she had any dogs left and she said “Only one.  It’s a female that I was going to raise for showing but I just found out I’m pregnant with my first child and probably won’t be on the dog show circuit for the next year or two so, if you want he,r you can have her.”

 

I asked her to send me a photo of the dog. 

 

I instantly fell in love (which is funny because I look back on that photo now and there was never an uglier dog photo taken!)

 

We met up a few days later on St. Patrick’s Day and I took possession of Miss Lily – soon to be renamed Lily Grace  - and who would then forever be known as “Gracie.”  She weighed a little less than 3 lbs. and fit inside my laced up tennis shoe.  I fell for her hook, line and sinker and was sure that she was God’s first outward sign of His grace in my life because the timing of her arrival couldn’t have been more perfect. 

 

Two weeks after I got her I took her for her very first vet appointment.  It was time to complete her round of immunizations so off we went in the car, her in her carrier in the backseat and me up front calling to her and talking to her the entire time.  The vet ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ over her and Gracie stepped up to the plate and doled out the kisses to everyone.  Puppy breath…is there anything like it?  It’s so intoxicating!

 

Right before we were about to leave the vet noticed something odd with Gracie’s shoulders.  One seemed to sit higher up on her back then the other and she asked if she could take an x-ray to see what was going on.  I waited in the room while Gracie went down the hall and I waited…and I waited…and I waited. 

 

My nerves started to flutter and then I went into an all out panic.  Even though we’d only been together for two weeks I had my heart invested fully in her future and, suddenly, the thought of something being wrong with her was more than I could bare.  They finally came down the hall to get me and asked me to step inside the operating room where the x-ray was up on the wall for display. 

 

Gracie appeared to have scoliosis – a curvature of the spine.  I was immediately relieved when they told me the diagnosis because I had had a cousin and a few friends who had lived with scoliosis and I knew that meant she’d be okay…but then the vet turned and told me the rest of the story. 

 

Gracie also had a rotation in the spine right at the place where her neck and spine fused and it was either going to rotate and straighten out as she got bigger or it was going to rotate and get worse, causing total paralysis and death. 

I stood there, looking down at the little pile of puppy on the exam table and tried my darndest not to break out into tears.  The vet said, “Julie, you’ve only had her a short while.  Any reputable breeder would take the dog back…”

 

Yes.  Any breeder would.  But I had named her after God’s grace – how do you give back God’s grace?  I knew immediately it wasn’t going to be an option.  I was going to have to take a crash course in how to pray intercessory prayer and then give it all to God.  How’s that for a first step into the world of being a Christian?

 

The funny thing was the vet knew my history with my other dogs – the one that died of Lupis, the two that had heart and thyroid problems, she knew the road I’d been down with all the animals in my past and she looked at her lab tech and said, “She’s one of those…”  The vet tech instantly knew what she meant and nodded.  I looked at them both trying to figure out what the secret code was that was flying between them. 

 

My vet said, “You’re one of those…one of the ones that God gives the animals to that need a little help down the road.  We get owners in here that never had a single problem with their animals and then we have people like you who get the ones that are going to need special care and extra love.  You, my friend, are one of those.”

 

I was shocked to hear her say that.  I had always sensed this about God…that he had set me up to love and care for animals even more so than children but to hear someone else say that in front of me and so soon after my reintroduction to God…well, it felt like a secret message to me – a confirmation of sorts that this was going to be part of his path for my life.   

 

I began asking some blogging buddies how to pray and how I should go about handling this problem.  Every time I looked at Gracie I stepped in and prayed for her, for the healing of her spine and for the continued wellbeing of her little itty bitty puppy body.  I knew there was a 50/50 chance I wouldn’t have this dog a year from now but I had to do everything I could for her while she was mine…that had always been my philosophy with my animals.  If you sign on to care for one you do what’s best for the animal and right now the best thing for Gracie was lots of love and plenty of prayer. 

 

Over the next several months God used Gracie to pull me into reliance on Him.  He taught me endless lessons while I spent my first year praying for her and watching her grow.  One day I saw her run to the fence to meet the neighbor and their golden retriever and the neighbor said, “My Gracie, I do believe your back is looking better!” and I knew right then and there that it was all going to be okay.  Gracie was moving in the right direction after all.  I wouldn’t have to give back God’s good Grace.  

 

Still to this day Gracie has a curvature in her spine that makes it hard for her to go up and down steps.  She can’t run as fast or as far as Petee can but she sure gives it the old college try.  She is a handful on a bad day and the thing I love most in this whole world on a good day.  I don’t go anywhere without kissing her goodbye because I am always reminded of that long trip down the hallway at the vets office – and the fact that your life can change in the instant of an x-ray.  I try to remember that with my friends and family as well. 

 

“Always, always kiss the dog” is just a saying I have to remind me of Lesson #2 – never take anything for granted…even God’s good grace.    

Lesson No. 1: Follow The Leader

^“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. “

~John 10:27

I had learned next to nothing in the eighteen years of Sunday mornings I spent inside our local Lutheran church.  I certainly don’t blame the Lutherans for that – I just think back then everyone believed the “real story” of Jesus Christ was a little bit scary for the kids so they gave us the ’fabled’ version of everything.  Jesus at the well…Jesus with the little children…Jesus walking alongside the stream. 

I do remember them telling me around confirmation time that Jesus died for my sins and I remember thinking “Yeah? Well who asked him?”  I really didn’t get it.  The sad thing is nobody ever really made sure I DID get it.  Oh sure, they said the phrases and gave the overview of things but nobody ever looked me in the eyes and said, “Do you really understand why Jesus had to die for you?  Do you get it?  Do you know where you’d be without Him?”

Nope.  Not once.  Not even my parents.  Nobody asked.  Learn the verbiage.  Speak the words.  Take the test.  Amen.  Hand me a casserole and let’s eat dinner. 

After my miraculous encounter with the Holy Trinity in my living room I still didn’t know what exactly had happened or why but something inside me changed so profoundly that I knew I had to do whatever it took to find out.  I went back to see Ken and he mentioned that I needed to find a church (and had graciously volunteered his to help me get my feet wet) but he also recommended that I look into buying myself a bible.  I remember wondering if this could get any worse – first I had to start going to church again and now he wanted me to read the most boring book on the face of the planet?  Oh, yes, I knew all about the bible…I had seen it sit on the top shelf of our family’s bookcase for decades.  I had even taken it down a time or two, only to get part way through Genesis and give up reading.  I remember my parents watching me thumb through it a few times as I was growing up and they always eyeballed each other nervously.  I’m sure as I look back on it now they were probably just scared to death I would ask them to explain part of it. 

I weighed Ken’s advice carefully and decided one Sunday morning it would be much easier to head up to Barnes and Noble to check out the big, black bible selection than to head on into a church.  I found the aisle nicely hidden away in the back corner of the second story of the nice big book store.  I popped into the aisle and almost passed out.  Just how many versions of this book were there anyway?  Letters on book spines were popping out at me all over the place – NSB, NIV, KJV – I had little clue what any of it meant.  I finally found one that had type large enough for my 45-year-old eyes to read and, yet, small enough that I could carry it around with me wherever I went.  I chose a “Seeker” bible – one that explained and illuminated the chapters and text so we newbies wouldn’t read halfway through Genesis and give up again.

I took my purchase home and did exactly what Ken had advised – I skipped over the entire Old Testament and the gospels and went right to Acts, Romans, the Corinthians I & II, Galatians and – finally – to the humbling beauty of Ephesians and the knowledge that God’s love for me was so wide, so deep and so high I would never be able to comprehend it.  I was able to understand enough of my NIV newbie bible to begin to put some of the pieces together and my mind was literally exploding in on itself as I found I couldn’t get enough of it to read.  This was that same boring book from my childhood?  Really?  I ate it up like there was no tomorrow. 

It was in these chapters that the love of Jesus Christ began to come alive  for me.  As I finished the up the letters to the different churches I backtracked to the Gospels and started making my way through the different parables and stories.  Yes, it was hard going at times but I started to begin to understand that this man – this Jesus ‘person’ I had never really known that much about – that he was who had spoken at my feet that deep, dark night.  I started to believe that all of this was going to one day make sense – that it was all going to click and I would finally understand what everyone had been speaking about my entire life. 

As I read I realized all I had to do to inherit all that Christ had to offer me was to stop following the idiotic choices I had made in my past and begin to follow the one who REALLY had all the answers.  My choices had led me to the brink of suicide…I figured I had nothing more to lose by following him for awhile – sothat’s what I did; I picked up my cross and I followed Jesus.  I followed him through his birth, his life, and his death.  I roamed around with him in the desert and by the well and in Samaria and even on the road to Emmaus.  I thought about him in the morning, chatted with him during the day, and prayed to him at night.  I enlisted all the blogging buddies I could find (and God brought me some humdingers!) and I created a little community for myself to bridge the gap between what was written and how it should be applied as I waited to build up the desire to find a church.

Learning to follow the leader – learning to put God and His agenda above my own – learning what pleases God and what angers Him – these things have made an unbelievable difference in the quality of my life.  I still battle pride…still get in my own way on an almost daily basis…still sin with the best of ‘em…but I see it sooner, fix it faster, ask for forgiveness and move on down the road, playing catch up to the one I now call my King. 

Following someone else for a change – following the one true leader, in particular - and knowing that leader on a personal and intimate level is the first lesson of Christianity I took on.  The pressure and quest for perfection within myself have all faded away as now I know I will never BE the person God originally intended for me to be – not this side of heaven anyway.  I do the best I can with what God has given me and I do everything I can to keep my mouth quiet and my heart open so I don’t miss a word He has to tell me. 

I could never had gotten to this point without the book that explains in human terms the love God has for me.  For anyone who calls themselves a Christian I challenge you to be in the Word as often as the spirit calls you to it as it can only lead to growth and further understanding.  The only other thing you have to do is get out of your own darn way long enough for Christ to guide you back to true north.  Once there, everything is easier.  No – I didn’t say everything was EASY – I said everything is easier. 

And life…life becomes the most incredible and soul-satisfying journey.

The Morning After

Let The Sun Shine

  

I woke up the next day with the sun streaming in through the living room windows.  I couldn’t figure out what was going on.  I slowly stood up and walked over to the dining room to read the time on the clock.  It was almost noon. 

 Almost noon? 

 My mind tried to go back in time to figure out what was going on.  I looked at the sofa and remembered lying down.  I looked at the dining room table and remembered praying.  Suddenly, things began to rewind and I saw myself on the floor of the dining room. 

 

 

 

 

 

Wait a minute…

 

I walked into the kitchen and there they were…the three bottles of pills, half empty – the rest of them strewn about the kitchen counter.  The hairs on the back of my neck went back up. 

 

I stood, frozen, trying to understand.  Why wasn’t I dead?  Why was I just now waking up?  And why was it so darn sunny outside? 

 

I walked over to the dining room window and remembered seeing the light on the corner the night before and like a flood it all came pouring back. 

 

“Oh my God…” I said, terror filling the room as I spoke.  “Oh.  My.  God.”

 

What exactly had happened?  I sat down on one of the kitchen bar stools and tried to make some sense of it all with the limited religious resources I had available to me.  I remembered not being able to lift my arm…I remembered moving across the floor without walking…I remembered that voice…that voice…whose voice? 

 

What voice?

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

I spent the entire weekend circling the house, going from room to room, trying to understand.  The only thing I could remember with great clarity was the voice…and then the voices – plural – and that hand…had I slept in someone’s hand?  Fear rose inside me as it all started to come back.  Oh, no…they are going to find out I’ve lost my mind and they are going to come for me…Oh this can’t be happening…I have crossed over from sane to insane and I just don’t know it yet  Do I call Ken?  Do I hide?  Because there is just no freakin’ way The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit were in my living room last night.

 

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

For the next two days I reasoned.  I thought.  I rationalized.  I waited.  Finally, I prayed.  I could not comprehend what had happened but I was sure it couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with God.  Maybe it was just my psyche doing whatever it had to do to keep me from taking those pills…yeah, that’s it…I’ll bet when I go see Ken next week he’ll tell me that’s all it was…

 

But…wait…

 

How do I explain the fact that 1) I feel GOOD again and 2) I’m sleeping through the night again and 3) I have no desire whatsoever to kill myself any more?

 

Something had happened.  Something had definitely happened. 

 

I went online.  I looked up every religious phrase I could think of and Googled every last one of them.  Still no answers…I felt like a newborn colt trying to get my awkward legs to work…I was all wobbly on the inside and the world dropped me to the ground if I thought too fast.  All I knew for sure was I didn’t want those pills in my house any more.  I picked them all up, put the lids back on and moved them up on a top shelf where I would have to get a ladder out to reach them again. 

 

There.  I had them just in case but they were definitely out of the way.  Now what?

 

    ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

I called Ken from work on Monday morning and asked to move my appointment up.  He asked when was good for me and I told him today…now…right now. 

 

He had an opening at lunch – did I want that?  Yep.  Book me, Dano.  And hang on to your horses Mr. Church Elder…I didn’t say anything on the phone but I was pretty sure I was about to rock his world. 

 

I arrived a few minutes early and paced around in the crowded doctor’s office lobby.  He finally leaned out through the lobby door and called my name.  I bolted towards him as quickly as I could, afraid that he wouldn’t see me and I’d miss the chance to find out exactly what had happened to me two nights before. 

 

We went through the lobby door and he turned to me in the hallway and asked, “So what’s new?”

 

I said, “You tell me.”

 

He cocked his head to one side and made a face – a quizzical, mystified face. 

 

Now at the end of the hall, we closed the door behind us.  He took the black chair and I took the burgundy.  It was just like old times…only different.  Finally it was time to get down to business. 

 

“So, what brings you here today?” he asked, bracing himself for the flood of tears that were surely about to come pouring out of my eyes. 

 

“Well,” I said, lingering on the word as long as I possibly could…”I think God showed up.”

 

“What?  He squinted and leaned back a bit.  “Wait a minute…what?”  His thoughts scrambled like an egg on hot pavement.  The woman sitting across from him was not the woman he’d seen three days ago.  He was looking for signs in my body language…trying to read my face…”What do you mean you think God showed up?” 

 

I backed up to the Friday when I had left his office and I shared the entire story with him.  Through most of it he sat with his eyes popping out of his head, his jaw agape on the floor beneath him.  I finished telling him about the events…about sleeping through the night for three nights in a row…about not only wanting to live but wanting to live LARGE and he could not follow along.  How could this be?  Who was this woman that was sitting in my chair, taking my appointment?  Where was the mess of a person who couldn’t stop crying? 

 

“Are you telling me you think God healed you?” he asked. 

 

“Hey…maybe that’s it…I think that might be it,” I replied.  I hadn’t even considered that God had healed me.  I thought that only happened in the movies and under large carnival tents in the middle of small town America. 

 

“I don’t know if he healed me.  I replied.  “I don’t know if I was saved or sanctified or justified or if I went criminally insane and now I have broken totally with reality.  I don’t know,” I said…”But I think you might.”

 

He sat and thought for a moment and we went back through the events of the past weekend, stopping in places so I could further illuminate what had occurred.  Finally, there was nothing for him to do but the obvious.

 

“Well, Julie, “I do believe you got yourself saved!”

 

 

    ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“But,” he stopped for a short pause…”But how are you feeling, physically?”  Any sign of the depression?  Any trouble sleeping?  Do you think the pills are just finally doing their thing and that’s why you feel better now?” 

 

I laughed.  “Oh, did I forget to mention?  I haven’t had a pill of any kind in three days.”

 

He looked down, made a note on his legal pad, and shook his head and smiled. 

 

“So what do I do now?” I asked.  “Where do I go from here?”

 

His eyes lit up and he smiled a big, broad grin as he leaned across those long legs of his and said, “You’re not going to like what I’m about to tell you but you have to promise me you’ll keep an open mind, okay?”

 

“Okay,” I said…”What?”

 

“Julie, you need to find a church.” 

 

And there it was…the seven words I never wanted to ever hear in my entire life.  I realized what he was trying to tell me and the thought of it made me want to throw up.  He went on to explain how being in community was the only way to truly and properly continue this journey and I had better get focused on finding one.    

 

“Oh great,” I said.  “I went looking for God, I finally found him, and now I’m going to have to go back and sit through church?  Are you kidding me?  Well this just blows!”

 

And with that we laughed.  I laughed.  I laughed out loud and everything.  Me.  Laughing.  No tears.  No wailing or blaming or fighting the past – just me and my counselor laughing out loud in the middle of a Monday afternoon.

 

    ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Epilogue:

 

I continued seeing Ken for another month to make sure the depression hadn’t just gone into hiding. 

 

It hadn’t. 

 

I was still having panic attacks but a few months later we found out why – they weren’t related to the depression but, rather, to a medical condition I would soon find out would also change the course of my life – again. 

 

I look back on the anniversary of what I refer to as “D Day” (Death Day) each year and I replay that night over and over in my mind.  Was it just me?  Was I close to snapping and I just made this all up in my mind?  Was it a dream under the influence of medication? 

 

No.  It wasn’t. 

 

Did the Holy Spirit really come and knock those pills out of my hand?  Did Jesus stand over me when I was laying on the sofa?  Was it really God’s hand I felt beneath me that night?  Did I really use one of the folds of his hand as my pillow that night?

 

Yes.  I really think it was. 

 

I’ve spent four years trying to logically explain the events of March 11, 2005 and I always come back to this:

 

I am changed. 

 

I am changed and I am well.  I have stayed that way for four years as of next week.  I have experienced ups and downs, growth and rebirth, spiritual attacks and God’s holy blessings.  And I know it all sounds incredible.  I know that.  I do.  The thing to remember is it’s not me that is incredible.  I was just a sinner in need of a Savior who finally realized after 45 years of life on this planet that I couldn’t do it alone.  I bent my will to God’s that night and I know He knew my heart – knew I wouldn’t run this time – knew I had been in the desert just long enough to be willing to accept that first drink…

 

…and I’ve been thirsting for Him ever since. 

Prelude to “D Day”

Insomnia

   

Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.

~1 Peter 5:8

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

This chapter is dedicated to Ken, my counselor.  Without his ability to speak God’s truth I would have no story to tell. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

I had been going to see him every Friday for the past five months.  Issues had been resolved.  Tears had been shed.  Choices had been illuminated.  Pain had been swept away.  Still, the depression lingered, as did the panic attacks and the insomnia.

 

I had never been this tired…never been this out of steam.  It was all I could do to make it through a day at work.  The moment I arrived home I changed clothes, turned out all the lights and sat on the sofa and cried.  This depression felt different than all the others…this one felt hollow and hopeless.  In my mind I could hear a voice constantly whispering to me, “I want this to be over.  I want this to be over.  I just want all of this to be over.” 

 

I was beginning to trust that voice. 

 

I had spent the past weekend writing my final letter to family and friends.  Even it had no emotion to it…there was simply none to give.  The light inside me was going out and all I could do was watch and wait for that last tiny flicker.

 

I decided to go see Ken one last time – for no other reason than to cryptically let him off the hook for what was about to happen.  I didn’t want him thinking he hadn’t done his job.  He’d helped heal some horribly broken pieces inside of me but the vast cavern of emptiness still remained.  It was all too going to be too little, too late. 

 

Ken called to move my appointment to Saturday morning because of a prior commitment and that was fine with me.  I got dressed that morning and went to the back door of the medical building that was closest to his office and waited for him to come and let me in.  He took his place in the big black leather chair and I sat across from him in the smaller burgundy seat.  He started to ask me how my week had gone and I started to give him my typical answer but somehow I couldn’t get through it – couldn’t lie to the one person who had done everything possible to help me crawl out of the pit I had been living in.  Soft tears began to spill out and I sat there, feeling nothing but the hot liquid tracks as they fell down my face. 

 

“What?” he asked.  “What’s the matter?”

 

“I just don’t understand,” I told him.  “A year ago I went looking for God and here I am in worse shape than I’ve ever been in my life.  Why is it that every time I go looking for God I end up in this pit?”

 

Ken stared at me, his mouth agape.  “Why is this the first time I’m hearing of this?  When did you decide to go looking for God?”

 

“A year ago January,” I mumbled.  “I realized my life was out of balance and I needed to get something more important going on than just going to work and coming home again day after day.  That’s why I started meditating.  That’s why I’ve been reading up on Buddhism and going downtown to the temple to sit.”

 

Ken stared back at me.  “But you said you went looking for God.  You realize you can’t find God in a Buddhist temple, right?” 

I shrugged my shoulders.  “But it’s actually quite a bit like Christianity” I proclaimed, “They believe that Jesus was a prophet and, besides, it helps calm me down.” 

 

“Yes, meditation can help you calm down but it can’t help you find God, Julie.

 

We sat in silence for a moment, the tears still streaming down my cheeks. 

 

He looked at his watch and then looked up at me.  “We’re about 30 minutes into your session.  I think that’s going to be all for today.  Why don’t you go now…go outside and stand there for two minutes and then I’ll let you back in and we’ll talk some more.”

 

The tears stopped while I tried to comprehend what he was telling me. 

 

Ken leaned in.  “I can’t talk to you about God on the clock; it’s not ethical.”  He looked down at me over the top of his glasses, waiting for me to make the connection…”So go on…time’s up for the day.  Go on outside, walk around for a minute and then come back in.  You and I are going to have a friendly discussion…as friends…not counselor/patient…okay?”

 

“Okay,” I said, slowly coming around to what he was telling me. 

 

“That’s okay?” I asked him.  “It’s okay for you to do that?”

 

“I can say whatever I want to say to a friend that isn’t on the clock, now can’t I?”  He smiled at me, that Cheshire grin of his made the soft lines in the corners of his eyes dance.

 

I got up.  I thanked him for the session.  I walked down the hall and out the door.  I stood there for a moment or two, then I walked over and knocked on the door again and Ken hit the swingbar that released the lock. 

 

“Hi,” he said.  “Come on in.  Let’s chat.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“So you went looking for God and now your life is falling apart.  Any idea what’s going on?” he asked. 

 

“I don’t know,” I told him, “I’ve always believed in God…always felt he was real…but I haven’t stepped inside a church since I was 18 years old because I hated it so much.  I thought if Christianity wasn’t the answer for me, maybe I needed to find some other way of relating to God.”

 

Ken stopped and thought for a moment as he glanced over at the back corner of his desk.  “Well, oddly enough, I just happen to have a bible here with me today,” he said.  “I’m an elder at my church and I’m giving a talk tomorrow during adult Sunday school.  I’m giving a talk about spiritual attacks and Satan, in particular.”

 

I stared at him, not making the connection. 

 

“Don’t you think that’s odd that I just happened to bring my bible to work with me today?  Don’t you think that it’s a little coincidental that I’m giving a talk about Satan and how he ruins people’s lives tomorrow?”

 

I was still staring at him, my mind not making the correlation. 

 

“Okay, well here’s the deal.”  Ken sat up and shifted in his chair, leaning forward to talk to me one-on-one.  “When you are sealed in Christ, you are his forever.  Satan can jack around with you but he can never have your soul.  Do you understand that?”

“I guess so.  I mean I think I remember hearing something along those lines when I was younger.” 

 

“Okay, so Satan can’t have what is already given to God.  Satan also doesn’t care about the souls he’s already won.  They’re his, right?”

 

I nodded.  That made sense. 

 

“So,” Ken continued, “if Satan isn’t going after the ones God has sealed and he isn’t worried about the ones he’s already won, who is it that you think Satan might just be focusing on in this world?”  He looked me straight in the eye and waited for the light bulb to come on.

 

“Me?”  I whispered.

 

“Julie, if you made a conscious decision to move TOWARDS God and you weren’t yet sealed in Him don’t you think that would get Satan’s attention?  I mean, as far as he’s concerned, it’s now or never.  He’s got to stop you from getting into the end zone or he’s lost you to God forever.” 

 

“Okay,” I said, “but what if I don’t believe in Satan?  Isn’t evil just something man does to man?  There’s no real red devil running around on earth, right?  Right?”

 

Ken sat back in his chair.  “So you believe in God but you don’t believe in Satan, is that right?”

 

“Yeah,” I nodded, “That’s pretty much where I’m at.”

 

Ken spent the next two hours thumbing through his bible, finding verse after verse, relating what it said and what it meant to me.  By the time I walked out of his office my head was spinning but I had a lot to think about.  I had temporarily forgotten to say my last goodbye to him when I finally left.

 

It wasn’t until I was opening my car door that Ken leaned out his door and said, “You promise you’ll call me if things get bad, right?  You’ll call before you do anything?”

 

I lied and said I would. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

I laid in bed every night that week thinking about what Ken had said.  I was still having panic attacks…still unable to sleep…but at least I had something to think about besides just dying.  Satan?  Real?  The Exorcist?  Not just a movie?  This couldn’t be right, could it?  Besides, wasn’t God all powerful?  Couldn’t he take Satan out with a quick bolt of lightning?  I couldn’t make the words Ken said make sense.  I had no understanding to make the words seem real.

 

The week went from bad to worse.  By Thursday I was in such excruciating mental pain I knew it was time to go.  I went through Friday as if it was any other day but I was dreading going back to talk to Ken.  I left work and drove to my appointment and we had a regular session until it was almost time for me to go. 

 

“So have you thought about what we talked about last week?” Ken asked me. 

 

“Yeah, some I guess,” I responded. 

 

“And do you have any questions for me before you go?  Anything else I can explain?”

 

I nodded no.  I was done with all this talk about God and Satan.  If God wanted me to live why was he letting my life become this living hell?  If there really was a Satanic force in this world why was God letting him run all over me?  I was pissed more than anything…pissed that I had spent my whole life believing that there was a God and now that I needed him most he was nowhere to be found.  I felt like a total idiot. 

 

“Nope, I’m good,” I told Ken.  “Thank you for the talk, though.  Thank you for everything, actually.” 

 

There.  I had said it. 

 

I stood up and he walked me towards the door.  He leaned across me to grab the door handle and pulled it past me towards his side of the room.  I began to walk out but first I leaned in and wrapped my right arm around his waist and squeezed it lightly, resting my head for just a moment against the side of his chest.

 

I looked up at him and the tears spilled out across my cheeks.  One last “thank you” and I slipped out back into the hustle and bustle of my everyday life again. 

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

I got home, ate dinner, and waited for it to get dark.  I went in and took a long, hot bath, trying one last time to think of one good reason to stay alive another day.  I had friends and family who loved me.  I knew that.  I had things left to do that I always wanted to try but hadn’t yet.  There were reasons – lots of reasons – but none that were as strong as the pain I was living with.  I sat in the bathtub for three hours and cried.  I finally got out, dried off and threw on my sweats.  The bottles of pills were all sitting on the kitchen counter.  I walked in and filled a glass of water.  I thought about calling Ken but realized it would only postpone the inevitable.  I began to drink the water and then stopped.  I had one last thing to do. 

 

I walked into the dining room and sat at the end of the table and I crossed my hands and bowed my head.  “Dear God…” I began, “Dear God you know what I’ve been going through.  You know how tired and how worn out I am.  I truly can’t take this any more.  I listened to what Ken said and I don’t understand.  I have believed in you my whole life and I tried to find you in all this mess and where have you been?  No where…you’ve been no where.  I thought you loved me but I can’t live like this any more.  I’m sorry for giving up.  I’m so sorry.”

 

I was sobbing again.  I looked up in the darkness through the dining room window and saw a ray of light from the street just past my house.  I bowed my head back down. 

 

“Okay, Satan, it’s you and me.  Ken says you’re real and I have no idea where God’s been in all this but I have one last thing to say.  You may have won my soul tonight but you will never win my heart.  Even if God turns on me and runs, I will never ever stop loving him.  So do with me what you will.  Either way, I’m finished.  I can’t go on.”

 

I stood up from the table and started to walk back into the kitchen but found myself prostrate on the floor, head face first into the carpet.  “Please God…Please!  If you don’t take this pain from me I have no choice but to take those pills.  I cannot do this…not one more day.  I have made my peace with you and I have made my peace with Satan.  It’s YOUR MOVE.

 

I stood up and walked quietly into the kitchen and poured the pills into my hands, glass of water at my side.  My hands shook.  My tears spilled out on the counter.  My entire body was wracked with pain.  I raised my hand and…

 

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

I raised my hand to take the first pile of pills and I noticed the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end.  I went to lift my arm up and it wouldn’t go.  I fought against myself…just do this and get it over with…but my arm would not go up.  I stood there, swaying with the pain and then I heard a voice inside my head…

 

SET THEM DOWN. 

 

I waited.  I tried to raise my hand again. 

 

SET THEM DOWN. 

 

“No!”  I was still sobbing, still wracked with pain.  “It will only postpone the inevitable!  I will not put them down.”

 

SET THEM DOWN. 

 

I felt my hand fall to the countertop and the pills went tumbling out of my grasp.  I wept even harder than before. 

 

WALK WITH ME.

 

I felt myself turn towards the dining room, felt myself move towards the living room, felt myself moving but, yet, I could not feel the floor beneath my bare feet.  My legs weren’t moving yet, here I was, two rooms over. 

 

LIE DOWN.

 

Oh, my God, no.  I’m going to lie down and I’m going to wake up in two hours and I’m going to hate myself because I was stupid enough to believe in you.  No, I will not lie down.

    

LIE DOWN.

 

Oh, God, please no.  If I lie down I’ll only wake up even sadder.  Please let me go back and take the pills.  Please let this just be over. 

 

LIE DOWN. 

 

Sobbing uncontrollably, I leaned towards the sofa and rolled down to my knees, finally rolling onto the cushions. 

 

CLOSE YOUR EYES.

 

My chest heaved.  “I can’t sleep!  I can’t!  I’ve tried for months and I can’t!  Let this end.  Please just let this end.  If I wake up tomorrow I won’t be able to stand it.  Please God.  Please let this end!”

 

CLOSE YOUR EYES.

 

I closed my eyes, and realized the crying had stopped.  I was finally out of tears.  There was nothing left inside of me.  I was as hollow as I could be.

 

SLEEP.

 

I squeezed my eyes closed and a feeling of warmth washed over me.  I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up again and I knew someone else was in the room.  Now there were two, one at my head – one at my feet. 

 

SLEEP. 

 

I began to rock my body back and forth and right before I fell asleep the last thing I felt was a hand beneath my entire body.  The sofa cushions were gone and I was weightless, sleeping in the folds of the hand of the one who made me.  I felt a rush of energy and a release of pain and I let it all go…

 

The last thing I remember was hearing the voice whisper “FINALLY.”

 

   ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

I slept for the next thirteen hours straight. 

Introduction To The Ten Lessons

A few days ago I decided to sit down at the computer and come up with a list of the top ten lessons I’ve learned since giving my life to Christ.  I jotted down a few ideas here and there as they came to me but then erased a couple, added a few more, whittled some down, combined a few and, finally, ended up with this list:

 

Lesson 1: Follow the Leader                                                                          

Lesson 2: Always Kiss the Dog                                                                     

Lesson 3: Let Go; Let God                                                                            

Lesson 4: Ask and It Shall Be Answered                                                         

Lesson 5: Look up, Look Down, Look All Around                             

Lesson 6: Every Day, A Miracle                                                                     

Lesson 7: Stepping Out                                                                                  

Lesson 8: Be the Leaven                                                                                 

Lesson 9: Represent                                                                                

Lesson 10: Give/Save/Live

 

Over the next two weeks I’m going to share my thoughts on my list with all of you but, as I was writing it, I realized it might be more powerful if I brought it into the context in which it fits inside my life.  Some of you have followed along with my story since I first started blogging four years ago.  Others of you have heard me tell bits and pieces of it over the past year or two.  There are even a few of you who don’t have a clue what I’ve been through but you come read my scribblings anyway.  Well, what good is a story unless others hear it, right? 

  

In preparation for my 4^th anniversary of ”D Day” I am going to run back through how I got from there to here one more time.  I’m skipping all the events that led up to that night because pieces of them will be illuminated as we go along and this series is more about growth and not what led me to the brink of death. 

 

I promise to do my best to remember each part of the story as best I can.  I wasn’t sleeping much back then so I’m not entirely sure I remember it all with great clarity.  I do remember the important parts pretty well, though, and that is only because they are pretty darn hard to forget.  You don’t sleep in the hand of God one night, wake up “healed” the next morning and not remember a little bit of what happened.  Oh, sure, you question it…and go over it a thousand times…and ask “Why me?” until you can’t see straight any more –

 

…but forget?  Ha! 

 

Hardly. 

 

And for those of you out there who will read this and say, “Now that’s what I want!  I want to see the big can’t-miss-it neon sign telling me in no uncertain terms that God really does exist” – all I have to say to that is be careful what you wish for.  My life has been profoundly changed because of what I went through and it’s not easy carrying around my story day-to-day.  Truth be told, if I thought about it all too much I’m pretty sure I’d be a candidate for the funny farm.  Also, for those that still think it sounds terribly exciting, here’s another insight I believe to be true:

 

If you found your way here today to hear my story then try to understand that your ‘miracle’ may well be hearing me tell of mine. 

 

It actually takes more faith to hear the story and believe in its truth than it does to wake up after six months of chronic depression and realize you’re totally and wholly healed.  Some of us get the neon sign – others get to hear tell of it.  It all comes down to what your mind can fathom as real and where you draw the line at believing.  God walks in this world with all of us whether you’ve ever had the distinct pleasure of meeting Him face-to-face or not.  And, no, for the record, I haven’t seen His face…but I know if I had had the courage to open my eyes that night it would have been there.  I know it like I know my name is Julie. 

 

So the story of how I came to Christ begins tomorrow.  Bring your Kleenex and please leave your judgmental face at home.  Remember…it’s who I was…not who I am now.  That’s the beauty of opening your heart to Christ – all the guilt and shame gets washed away in the pool of the baptismal water. 

 

Now there’s a bath ring that would be hard to get rid of, eh?