Tag Archives: God’s grace

If He Only Had Faith

While at church, I heard someone comment about Robin Williams, “Fame & money didn’t help him. He needed faith”. That was a sad and ignorant statement! I have faith but that doesn’t make me immune to depression and mental health issues.

I have been consumed by the dark fog of depression and despair many times. Sometimes it is so dark and deep, that I can’t find the words or the energy to pray. I can barely breathe. I’ll open my mouth . . . but there are no words; only tears running down my face. The feelings of hopelessness and helplessness can be all consuming. I’ve been on that slippery slope.

I thank God for His love and grace, and for my professional counselors and my dear friends who have pulled me out of that darkness. I know the Bible verses about faith and not worrying. There are times when it’s hard for me to get the strength to read or even think about those verses. Sometimes it’s hard to hold on to faith. I can’t explain what it’s like when your brain is in a dark void, and where rational thinking isn’t an option. To hear someone say, “Where’s your faith?”, “The Bible says ‘fear not'”, or “Cheer up!”, while I’m in that dark place, will actually pull me farther into the place that I’m desperately trying to get out of.

There are some people who will hear “All you need is faith” and not seek the help/medication they need because they feel people will think they are weak. So instead of getting help they suffer silently; ashamed of what they are going through.

By saying “If he had more faith”, you are blaming him for his disorder/brain chemistry imbalance.

As a dear friend of mine said in a sad response to these remarks, “And the stigma continues”.

If you have not been effected by depression or a chemical imbalance, you have no room to talk. Please know your facts. Don’t be so quick to judge. Reach out to those who are struggling with mental health issues, but don’t try to “fix” them. Be the shoulder they need to cry on, an ear to listen, or just check in on them. Don’t let those who are suffering from mental illness suffer alone or slip through the cracks.

It rained hard the day Robin Williams died. I’d like to think it was because he was up in Heaven telling jokes and everyone was laughing so hard they cried.

God Sent an Angel to Get Me Home

332726_2815486549466_1327898898_33233656_269500960_oTwo weeks before she was due, I went to the doctor and found out my daughter,  Sara, had died. While I was at the doctor’s office, the medical assistants tried several times to find her heartbeat. They hooked me up to a fetal heart monitor and tried, oh how they tried, to get the monitor to make a sound…any sound. I knew in my heart what they were trying very hard not to show on their faces. I was only able to keep my precious little girl for 38 weeks.

My doctor came into the room and gave me a heartfelt hug and expressed his sorrow over what my head was having a very hard time processing. After talking to the doctor, one of the girls asked me if there was anyone they could call because they didn’t want me to drive home alone. I said no that I would be ok to drive myself home. Truth was I just wanted to get out of there as fast as I could so I would be able to drive home before the reality of what happened hit me. And the thought of sitting in an office full of pregnant women waiting for “someone” to pick me up was, well, not an option.

They didn’t want to but they agreed and asked me to call the office when I got home. I nodded, yes. I got in my car, started the engine, pulled out my cell phone and pressed the button to call my husband at work. It rang once, maybe twice, and I hung up. I thought (not sure how I was able to) that it wasn’t fair to Jack or myself to tell him over the phone.

I pulled out of the parking lot and made the first curve in the road. I truly do not remember anything else until I was in my driveway. I went in the house and called the doctor’s office. When the receptionist answered, I said I was home. She was glad I made it safely and commented that I got home pretty fast.

The rest of the day and the hospital in the morning, which is burned into my mind, I will save for another time. As for the drive home, I don’t know. I spent many days thinking about and several sessions in therapy talking about what happened that day.

The therapist chalked up the lack of memory about the ride home on the fact that I was probably in shock. I have agreed with that belief for many years until I had a dream (or nightmare depending on how you look at it) about that day at the doctor’s office. In my dream I relived the whole day right up to the first curve in the road… Even in my dream, it went from the curve in the road to my driveway.

The therapist didn’t have an explanation for this. I do. There is only one explanation. I was not in control of my car or my life after the curve in the road. It was only by the grace of God I made it home safely. My loving Heavenly Father sent my guardian angel to steer for me. I am very thankful that He not only made sure I made it home safely but that my precious Sara made it “Home” safely too.

Only By The Grace Of God

Between the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic on April 14th and the 97th anniversary of the Armenian Genocide on April 24th, I have been doing a lot of thinking.

My Grandmother, on my Dad’s side, was born April 8, 1900. In 1912, she traveled to England with her mother, to sail on the maiden voyage of the Titanic. I can only imagine the thrill and excitement they were experiencing traveling for their home in Istanbul, Turkey to Southampton, England.

Their excitement quickly ended when they found their papers were not in order and they were not allowed on board. What must have been going through their minds and their hearts when they found out what happened four days later.

Three years later, on April 24th, was the beginning of the Armenian Genocide. This time it was my Grandmother, on my Mom’s side, turn to have a brush with death. I don’t know a lot of the details on what happened to her. The little I do know sends a chill down my spine and makes my heart swell with pride.

My Grandmother along with many, many other Armenians were forced to march…to their deaths. 1,500,000 Armenians were sent on death marches, raped, beaten, starved, crucified, butchered or sent to a certain death in concentration camps.

It is almost impossible to comprehend the inconsolable terror that must have be racing through the mind of this teen age girl. My Grandmother was wounded and played dead on the side of the road. The strength she drew, to lay still and control her breathing well enough to be left for dead, could have only come from God.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13

I am so thankful and blessed to be part of these two families!

Praise the LORD! Blessed is the man who fears the LORD, Who delights greatly in His commandments. 2 His descendants will be mighty on earth; The generation of the upright will be blessed. Psalm 112:1-2