It's been a few weeks since I've joined in with the Five Minute Friday community, but this week's prompt got my creative juices flowing once again. If you'd like to join in the fun, just head over to our community hostess Kate's blog Heading Home for more info! Without further ado, here's my take on this week's prompt word:
GROW
This week's prompt kinda got me thinking about a lot of different ways I could go with this idea of "grow." I wanted to start writing about it on Thursday night after my shower, but it was already getting late and I was exhausted so it got put off until now. In the meantime, I kept sort of noodling over the idea and thought I knew where I was going with it.
Until this afternoon. When M2 and her sister AB got into a bit of a fuss over watching TV (the usual fuss of one wants to watch one thing and the other doesn't), my idea about this week's prompt went right out the window.
As it was a pretty afternoon, our front door was open with the glass storm door closed to keep out bugs and let in light. The fuss between my two eldest girls ended with AB getting what she wanted and M2 getting frustrated and then walking outside. I knew she likely just needed a bit to cool off, but then I looked up and realised that it had been more than a bit, so I went outside to find her.
I called her name and she answered immediately and came up to the front porch where I was standing. The conversation went something like this:
Me: You okay?
M2: Yeah, I was just playing a bit. I should get my shoes.
Me: Probably, but it's okay for a little bit. You sure you're okay?
M2: Yeah. (sighs and looks down for a moment) I mean I was mad at AB, but I'm not now. The higher road is justice, right Momma?
Me: (taken aback and not sure what she means) What was that last bit about justice?
M2: The higher road is justice. Justice means fairness. It would be fair for AB to only get a 30 minutes of her movie instead of the whole hour and a half since I only got to watch 30 minutes of Star Trek, right? (Author's note: Yes, we are that nerdy of a family)
Me: Yes, that's right. That would be fair. But the higher road would be being generous and allowing her to watch the whole thing instead of being nitpicky about what's most fair.
M2: You're right mom. It would be.
We hugged and then she looked at me and said:
M2: But do you think maybe since I'm letting her watch the whole thing instead of just a half hour that we could have a non-messy dinner in the living room and I could watch something I want to watch?
Me: Let me talk to Daddy about it, okay pumpkin?
M2: Okay, Momma.
Me: (hugging her tight and kissing the top of her head) I love you, M2. You know that?
M2: (her hugging me back and then kissing my cheek with a grin) Yeah, I know. I love you too, Momma.
Higher road and justice and generosity....how on earth did she get so big so fast?
My original plan was to write about how much I feel like I've grown in the last several months, but this little moment with my biggest girl caught me off-guard and made me realize with a start how much she's grown in the last year. It makes me think of that that ABBA song, "Slipping Through My Fingers" which I heard for the first time while watching the movie Mamma Mia several years ago. My eldest will be 10 years old this year and yet, it seems like only yesterday that she was a baby in my arms. Time keeps slipping through my fingers and she keeps growing -- not just in her physical body, but her maturity too. It seems like this last year has been one where she's changed a lot faster.
I'll admit, there's a part of me that wants to put a rock on her head and try to slow her down, but there's also that part of me that swells with pride and joy over the young lady she is fast becoming. Kids growing up truly is a bittersweet thing and while it's hard, I'm trying to capture as many of these moments as I can because I know one day, I'll look up and she'll be heading out on her own.
Love you, bug. ~ Momma
Showing posts with label gratitude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gratitude. Show all posts
Sunday, May 15, 2016
Thursday, March 17, 2016
Psalm 8
I love this psalm. My heart loves this psalm. I think it's because I grew up hearing a choral arrangement of it written by Tom Fettke called "The Majesty and Glory of Your Name." Ever since I can remember, my dad has sung in the adult choir at the Southern Baptist church where I grew up. I remember sitting in choir practice with him sometimes and being enveloped in the warmth of 4, 6, and 8 part harmonies, chords that seemed so rich and full that you almost expected them to melt in your ears, soaring high notes, and softly subtle moments that made your heart almost burst with the beauty of them. And those were just the rehearsals! I sat beside my mom, totally transfixed when the choir would present their Christmas concert or Easter cantata.
When I was about 5 or 6 years old, I joined my first church choir and I was hooked. As the years progressed, I fell deeper in love with the music, but also the words. It helped that all of my choir directors were people who were deeply passionate about God and drawing His people closer to Him through music. My high school church choir director was our minister of music and singing under his direction was more than just a wonderful experience; it was a blessing. He inspired me to really internalize the words and then pour that back out through my voice as an offering to God. It is because he selected things like "The Majesty and Glory of Your Name" that I memorized more scripture and began to take my faith more seriously.
The first time I sang that anthem, the high school choir combined with the adult choir. I remember how my spirit soared with the notes and how it was then that I had my first honest to goodness moment where I felt the Presence of God in a real, tangible way. I was overwhelmed by the idea that God, the Creator of the Universe, who hung the moon in its orbit and the stars in their place could care for me -- tiny, insignificant, screwed up, 15 year old me. As the notes climbed higher and higher, I thought I might explode with joy and then in a moment, the sudden diminuendo quieted my ecstasy, but then invited me in to draw closer to He whose glorious majesty had breathed life into me. As the music faded, I held my breath, willing the moment to stay with me a bit longer.
It was the first time that my song had been more than just notes and words on the page. It was the first time my song was also my prayer. I didn't know anything about St. Augustine at the time, but I think that moment -- and many more like it in the years that followed -- is why when I heard this quote as a Catholic that it immediately resonated: "He who sings, prays twice."
Now that I've told you all about why I love this psalm so much, here's a video of a performance of the choral anthem "The Majesty and Glory of Your Name" by Tom Fettke. Won't you come listen and pray with me? I'm including the words below the video, so you can follow along if you like:
The Majesty and Glory of Your Name
Words based on Psalm 8 by Linda Lee Johnson
Music by Tom Fettke
When I gaze into the night skies and see the work of your fingers;
The moon and stars suspended in space.
Oh, what is man that you are mindful of him?
You have given man a crown of glory and honor,
And have made him a little lower than the angels.
You have put him in charge of all creation:
The beasts of the field, the birds of the air, The fish of the sea.
Oh, what is man? Oh, what is man that you are mindful of him?
O Lord, our God the majesty and glory of your name
Transcends the earth and fills the heavens.
O Lord, our God; little children praise You perfectly,
And so would we. And so would we.
Alleluia! Alleluia!
The majesty and glory of Your name.
Alleluia! Alleluia!
The majesty and glory of Your name.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! (Alleluia!)
When I was about 5 or 6 years old, I joined my first church choir and I was hooked. As the years progressed, I fell deeper in love with the music, but also the words. It helped that all of my choir directors were people who were deeply passionate about God and drawing His people closer to Him through music. My high school church choir director was our minister of music and singing under his direction was more than just a wonderful experience; it was a blessing. He inspired me to really internalize the words and then pour that back out through my voice as an offering to God. It is because he selected things like "The Majesty and Glory of Your Name" that I memorized more scripture and began to take my faith more seriously.
The first time I sang that anthem, the high school choir combined with the adult choir. I remember how my spirit soared with the notes and how it was then that I had my first honest to goodness moment where I felt the Presence of God in a real, tangible way. I was overwhelmed by the idea that God, the Creator of the Universe, who hung the moon in its orbit and the stars in their place could care for me -- tiny, insignificant, screwed up, 15 year old me. As the notes climbed higher and higher, I thought I might explode with joy and then in a moment, the sudden diminuendo quieted my ecstasy, but then invited me in to draw closer to He whose glorious majesty had breathed life into me. As the music faded, I held my breath, willing the moment to stay with me a bit longer.
It was the first time that my song had been more than just notes and words on the page. It was the first time my song was also my prayer. I didn't know anything about St. Augustine at the time, but I think that moment -- and many more like it in the years that followed -- is why when I heard this quote as a Catholic that it immediately resonated: "He who sings, prays twice."
Now that I've told you all about why I love this psalm so much, here's a video of a performance of the choral anthem "The Majesty and Glory of Your Name" by Tom Fettke. Won't you come listen and pray with me? I'm including the words below the video, so you can follow along if you like:
The Majesty and Glory of Your Name
Words based on Psalm 8 by Linda Lee Johnson
Music by Tom Fettke
When I gaze into the night skies and see the work of your fingers;
The moon and stars suspended in space.
Oh, what is man that you are mindful of him?
You have given man a crown of glory and honor,
And have made him a little lower than the angels.
You have put him in charge of all creation:
The beasts of the field, the birds of the air, The fish of the sea.
Oh, what is man? Oh, what is man that you are mindful of him?
O Lord, our God the majesty and glory of your name
Transcends the earth and fills the heavens.
O Lord, our God; little children praise You perfectly,
And so would we. And so would we.
Alleluia! Alleluia!
The majesty and glory of Your name.
Alleluia! Alleluia!
The majesty and glory of Your name.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! (Alleluia!)
Monday, March 14, 2016
Psalm 4
In reading through this psalm, I am always struck by its final verse:
As I look at this verse, and indeed the whole of this psalm, it seems to me that the major theme is putting things in God's hands, trusting in His ability to do mighty things. The psalmist begins the psalm by talking about how God has helped him in his distress. Later he admonishes the reader to not sin, but be repentant, offer restitution, and put trust in the Lord. He points out that despite these promises of God, some seek more of God's blessing and favour, but that he (the psalmist) has more gladness in his heart than those who do this even when they receive what they ask for. Why is the psalmist so confident? Because he has put his trust in God.
Sometimes though, I am definitely like those people who are seeking more of God's favour and blessing. I'll admit that throughout these past three years, one of the things I have sought many times is an emotional connection with God and a real tangible sense of His Presence. My dear big brother Chez has pointed out to me that emotions are fickle and change on a whim and that the real tangible Presence of God is to be found in more than those feelings. He has encouraged me time and again to take joy in and practice gratitude for even the smallest of things -- a sunny day, a cool breeze, my children's hugs, my husband's presence, a cherished book, coffee with a friend, and all of the small victories that I have in my therapy and healing. Truthfully, deluged as I was at times with seemingly impenetrable darkness, I often balked at his suggestions and even countered them with poor excuses for why I just couldn't do what he was suggesting.
Despite this, Chez's repeated encouragement stuck with me and eventually, I began to become less resistant to the idea and tried to take his advice at various moments. As the months have passed, I've gotten better at finding small moments of joy and expressing gratitude for them and I think that has helped in some way when I have days where the darkness descends and it's harder to find anything to hold onto. I still struggle with wanting to feel God in an emotional way at times and it is still my prayer that one day I'll be able to reconnect with Him in that way. That said, I think I'm getting to a place of spiritual maturity where I'll be able to say that if it never happens, I'll be okay. When I've reached that place, perhaps then I'll be able to really trust God like the psalmist and say with him that I both lie down and sleep in peace. What a wonderful sleep that would be!
I will both lie down and sleep in peace; for you alone, O Lord, make me lie down in safety. (verse 8)I think I need to write this verse down and memorize it or post it somewhere that I can see it frequently throughout the day. One of the biggest difficulties that I face in the night time hours is trying to convince myself that if I lie down and close my eyes that I will be safe. So many of the flashbacks I've had have happened upon lying down and as I've slept, I've had more nightmares than I can count. Both things make me more than a little skittish about going to sleep at night. So I stay awake. Usually I'm up until the wee wee hours because I just can't convince myself that it will be okay.
As I look at this verse, and indeed the whole of this psalm, it seems to me that the major theme is putting things in God's hands, trusting in His ability to do mighty things. The psalmist begins the psalm by talking about how God has helped him in his distress. Later he admonishes the reader to not sin, but be repentant, offer restitution, and put trust in the Lord. He points out that despite these promises of God, some seek more of God's blessing and favour, but that he (the psalmist) has more gladness in his heart than those who do this even when they receive what they ask for. Why is the psalmist so confident? Because he has put his trust in God.
Sometimes though, I am definitely like those people who are seeking more of God's favour and blessing. I'll admit that throughout these past three years, one of the things I have sought many times is an emotional connection with God and a real tangible sense of His Presence. My dear big brother Chez has pointed out to me that emotions are fickle and change on a whim and that the real tangible Presence of God is to be found in more than those feelings. He has encouraged me time and again to take joy in and practice gratitude for even the smallest of things -- a sunny day, a cool breeze, my children's hugs, my husband's presence, a cherished book, coffee with a friend, and all of the small victories that I have in my therapy and healing. Truthfully, deluged as I was at times with seemingly impenetrable darkness, I often balked at his suggestions and even countered them with poor excuses for why I just couldn't do what he was suggesting.
Despite this, Chez's repeated encouragement stuck with me and eventually, I began to become less resistant to the idea and tried to take his advice at various moments. As the months have passed, I've gotten better at finding small moments of joy and expressing gratitude for them and I think that has helped in some way when I have days where the darkness descends and it's harder to find anything to hold onto. I still struggle with wanting to feel God in an emotional way at times and it is still my prayer that one day I'll be able to reconnect with Him in that way. That said, I think I'm getting to a place of spiritual maturity where I'll be able to say that if it never happens, I'll be okay. When I've reached that place, perhaps then I'll be able to really trust God like the psalmist and say with him that I both lie down and sleep in peace. What a wonderful sleep that would be!
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Thursday, July 9, 2015
The Other Man
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| Strip courtesy of peanuts.wikia.com. |
In the last 2.5 years, I've seen him so frequently (due to the intensity of this episode of depression) that I have jokingly referred to him as "the other man in my life." Outside of Gray, he knows me better than almost anyone on the planet. It's very rare these days that I pull something out that totally surprises him. I've gotten to know a little bit about him too as he's shared different experiences he's had with similar things to give me a new perspective or encourage me that I'm not alone in something.
More Than Medication
In 2008, I was going through a particularly severe depressive episode, complete with self-injury. It began about 11 months after the birth of our second daughter, AB, but it wasn't until about 4 months later that I finally managed to make an appointment with a psychiatrist at a large psychiatric group near our apartment. I had gone off my antidepressants when I got pregnant with our eldest daughter, M2, but never got back on them postpartum because AB was conceived so soon after M2's birth. Gray suggested I might need meds again, so I made the appointment.
At the appointment with Dr. Alt, I gave him the basic history of my illness and waited for his assessment. He asked some questions about the current episode, looked back over his notes, and finally said in his pronounced German accent, "I am going to give you a prescription, but I think you would benefit from talking to someone."
My heart sank. I wasn't expecting that.
In retrospect, given that I was cutting myself and severely depressed, it was silly to think I could get away with just taking a prescription, but I didn't feel ready to talk about stuff. He continued, "So I'd like to set you up to see someone. Do you prefer a woman or a ma--”
"A man." The answer came flying out of my mouth before he'd even finished his question. He raised his eyebrows and looked down at his notes before addressing me again.
"Are you sure? You wouldn't prefer a woman?"
I shook my head and replied, "No, I wouldn't."
He continued, "The reason I ask is that in my experience, women are usually more comfortable talking to a woman."
I shook my head more firmly. "Not me. I would prefer a man, please."
He bent his head over my patient file, scribbled something down, and looked up again. "Well, in that case, I think I have just the person for you. I think you'll like him. His name is Pendragon." He made another note, then turned to look at something else on his desk. After a few moments consultation, he asked, "would next week be okay for an appointment with him?" I nodded mutely. After a bit of writing, he stood, handed me both a piece of paper bearing my new prescription and a larger one with instructions for the front office to make that appointment with Pendragon and with that, ended the appointment and ushered me out of the office.
The First Appointment
Time has a nasty habit of speeding up when you want it to crawl and the time between my visit with Dr. Alt and my first appointment with Pendragon flew by like a gust of wind. The day arrived and suddenly I found myself sitting in the parking lot, steeling myself to go inside. I finally got myself together, went in and checked in at the front desk. I sat down to wait. It must have been a few minutes, but it seemed like I'd barely sat down when I heard a pleasant sounding male voice call, "Therese?" I looked up and saw a rather tall, very young looking man holding a file folder and looking around. I stood up and we made eye contact. He repeated my name, "Therese?" I nodded quietly. "Hi, I'm Pendragon. It's nice to meet you."
I think I muttered something like "Nice to meet you too" but I can't be totally sure. My heart pounded nervously and I felt like I was barely breathing. He motioned toward the double doors that led back to the individual offices and invited me back. As we walked, I glanced at his face again and was struck by how very young he looked. Is he even old enough to be doing this? How old is he? As these thoughts went through my head, I suddenly realised that he was about six paces ahead of me. Dang, long legs! Hold up! Wow, he's tall!
I don't recall much of that first session. I do remember being surprised that he sat across from me rather than having a desk between us. I also recall that he didn't push me for details or pressure me to tell him anything more than I wanted to tell him. As a result, I didn't mention the self-injury or suicidal thoughts. I wasn't sure how he'd take it. My experience in the past had been very negative with doctors and therapists who just didn't understand self-injury and I'd only ever admitted suicidal thoughts to one other person. I wasn't sure if I could trust him with those darkest of secrets. Despite my reticence in that first session, I did find myself warming to him. He had a kind face, a relaxed approach, and my initial impression was that he wasn't judging me. At the end, we made an appointment for two weeks later. In retrospect, he must have sensed I was in more distress than I was letting on because as I was leaving, he told me that if I needed to talk before that appointment I could call during office hours, leave him a message, and he'd call me back. It was a small thing, but it made me feel a little less alone in my struggle. I decided in that moment that I thought I liked him and that this just might work out.
These Days...
Well, six years later, he still has a baby face (for real y'all, he looks like he's barely out of college), but I have since learned that he is, in fact, older than me by about 4 years. I've also learned more about him which has strengthened my ability to relate to him, be myself, and do the work of trying to recover and make positive changes in my life. These days I don't have to gallop to keep pace with his long legs, since he is now in private practice and the walk from his waiting area to his office door is only about four steps.
Because I trust him implicitly, I also, very rarely, hold anything back. He knows me well enough now though, that he can tell if I am. He still doesn't pressure me to say things I'm not ready to say, although he has perfected the art of helping me find a place where I feel able to say those things. In fact, there have been days when the depression has lain so heavy on me that my tongue was rendered silent and I couldn't bring myself to speak at all, but somehow, bit by bit, Pendragon has managed to help me find my voice and speak many difficult things aloud.
He doesn't judge me -- ever. No matter what kind of insanity falls out of my mouth or how much I sob and use half a box of tissues at one go. He doesn't care that the moment that I come in his office I kick off my sandals, tuck one foot underneath me, and plop down on his comfy sofa with all the grace of a paraplegic hippo. His office is a place where I feel safe and able to truly be my authentic self -- stripped of masks and defenses, totally honest, raw, vulnerable, and exactly who I am with all my good, bad, and in between. I've come in his office exhausted from too little sleep, in need of a shower, wearing clothes that were dirty, half out of my head from not eating for days, and so darkly depressed that I was silent as a tomb and have found deep concern, a lot of patience, and and a determined perseverance to help me find my way to a better place through self-care, coping skills, and changes in my thinking. I never feel like I'm under some kind of judgmental scrutiny.
Despite the lack of feeling scrutinized, Pendragon is keenly observant and is able to glean an awful lot about me and the kind of week I've been having before I've said the first word. I first noticed this two years ago when I had an appointment after one of the most traumatic days of my life. I know therapists are trained to be observant, but I think he is particularly so and it's very helpful as he has used those observations to point things out to me that I wasn't even aware of previous to that moment.
Lest you think that our sessions are all gloom and doom, we do laugh. In fact, there have been several moments where both of us were shaking with laughter. It's a darn good thing too, because the nature of mental illness is that you really need that kind of pressure valve to release tension and help ground you a bit. Pendragon also encourages me in the good things in my life like my marriage, my kids, and most importantly, my faith. He is, like me, a Christian (although not Catholic) and understands the vital role my faith plays in my life and in my mental health. His encouragement of the pursuit of my faith has been especially important as I've struggled mightily over the past 2 years with feeling connected to God and wanting to remain faithful in my walk with Him.
I am immensely grateful to God for bringing Pendragon into my life. To be honest, I do not have adequate words to express my gratitude. I am thankful for his listening ear, outsider perspective, professional expertise, and immeasurable amount of compassion, gentleness, and caring with which he has helped me through many a difficult situation and some of my darkest hours.
And so with that, I will wind this up and say "Thanks be to God for His merciful gift of a compassionate healer who helps me be just pensive enough to fight and slay my dragons."
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