Trading the Ashes of Guilt

One of the deepest purposes of following Christ is showing the world that although we as Believers will experience pain and hardships, we have an eternal hope and a secure foundation--Someone we are madly in love with to carry us through the tough times. So, why are we as Christians so afraid to discuss these tough times? I don’t know--maybe because it’s uncomfortable? Maybe some Christians really aren’t secure enough discussing such “controversial” topics like depression, suicide, and mental illness within a group of people whom they believe are supposed to automatically have it all together? Well, that couldn’t be more inaccurate. I am a Believer. I sincerely love and attempt to follow God. But, I do not have it all together by any means. I am still sad often, and struggle daily with mental illness.

My previous post discussed my longtime, almost constant fight with depression. With the recent news of another celebrity suicide preceding another threat posted on social media just days ago, I want to share part of my battle with suicide from a Christian perspective. While this is not the hardest part of my story for me to tell, it is often the most taboo. Please know that I am by no means saying that everyone who is depressed is suicidal. But, I think we can agree that everyone who is suicidal is depressed. These two oppressors are close cousins.

Today, I have a very simple tattoo on my right hand of three sparrows. I see it all day, every day, and I intentionally chose to put it there to remind me of the countless second chances I have received. Each sparrow represents a time I tried to end my life, and God intervened. Although some people would consider my attempts half-hearted, I don’t believe there are truly any “half-hearted” attempts. I know that each time I woke with such an overwhelming feeling of despair and grief that I had failed at something else—that I couldn’t even kill myself correctly. It was more than a “cry for help.” I was done, and I wanted out. This was a very dark period in my life.

Although I cannot say I do not still struggle with suicide idealizations--I may struggle with them for a lifetime, but I no longer have active plans or truly want to end my life. Now, I am working to articulate my feelings and needs and am taking care of myself. I know I feel best when I take my medication, attend group and individual therapy, go to my doctor’s appointments, eat regularly, and force myself to reach out for help when I feel the old familiar downward pull. My friends know that when I say, “I'm having a hard time,” I am struggling with some element of my mental illness. I may only be able to text, but I believe for you to truly recover, heal, and thrive, you have to do your work.

Part of my work is learning how to ask for help and letting other people take care of me. And I am still learning that I am worth that and that it doesn’t mean that I am selfish or lazy. Even at the point of writing this I have a friend that I text every morning to say I’ve taken my medication, and other friends that check on me daily, go to doctor’s appointments with me, ride with me to therapy, check to make sure I’ve eaten--the list goes on and on. I am very blessed with an amazing support system, but I still have to do my part. When I try to hide and run from my struggle is when I feel my worst. That is part of the work—to not only be brave enough to confront the situation, but also be brave enough to say, “I need you.”

The other crucial part of my work is to balance my faith and beliefs with my struggle. What this means for me is that I must understand and accept that the day I decided to follow Christ, all my issues didn’t just disappear. That definitely didn’t happen. I was only about thirteen. I hadn’t even tasted life yet nor had any idea what I would face in the coming years. Christians aren’t exempt from hurt. More and more I am learning that struggling with depression, specifically suicide, does not mean my faith is weak. It means I’m real. It means I’m actively participating in life—sometimes it’s hard, and I need help. That’s it. It does NOT mean I don’t believe enough, pray enough, or “do” enough in church.

If you are a Believer struggling with suicide or depression, I want you to know you are not alone and struggling doesn’t mean there is something wrong with your faith or your perceived lack of it. When other Believers told me I needed to pray harder or read my Bible more, it made me extremely upset. I felt worse. I mean, really? Everyone following Christ needs to do that, not just me. I was literally falling apart! No, I did not need to “do” anything else. I needed someone to listen, to be there, to hold me, to help me get the help I needed, which for me was primarily medical, secondly spiritual at that point. Yes, I believed a lot of lies about myself and my situation, but before I could even begin to deal with those, I needed someone to help me manage the physical aspects—the obvious need for medications, therapy, and self-care. Only then could I begin to delve into fighting my demons through strengthening my faith.  

Unfortunately, sometimes we as Christians can be the worst at compassion, which is very ironic when you think about how the Bible says very plainly the greatest and most important thing we can do is love. Loving others means meeting them where they are. When I was in the midst of my struggle, love would not be a feeling I would say I experienced—neither would understanding. But today I can say by God’s grace, I am surrounded with compassion, love, and understanding. Today I have experienced true, unconditional love from others, many of them Believers in fact. This has strengthened and renewed my faith, unlike before where I felt drained and like a complete failure.

Now I must continue to trade my guilt—guilt for not feeling “enough” in my faith, guilt for not succeeding at taking my life, guilt for needing multiple medications and therapy, guilt for needing extra help—trade all these ashes of guilt for the beauty found in the truth. The truth is you are not a failure. You are enough. You are loved. You were created by an all-loving God who knew every struggle and thought you would ever have. You are beautiful and worthy of life. Please if you need help today, reach out. There are many hotlines (1-800-SUICIDE) and Internet resources available, but chances are, you already know that.  And if you’re anything like me, what you’re burdened with is guilt—for so very many things.

Today, make the trade—ashes of guilt for the beauty of truth and life. If you are a Believer carrying terrible past experiences of insensitive comments and actions from other Christians, trade that. There are many people following Christ that will truly love you right where you are. More importantly, HE loves you unconditionally and finds no fault in you. You are His glorious inheritance! Leave the guilt behind and walk in truth.

And remember this, “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” (Exodus 14:14)

 

Fighting with you,

Carrie

Trading the Shame Ashes of Depression

“Treatment resistant depression…”

These are the words I heard the intake director at Emory say to me after she told me I was accepted to the adult psychiatry program there and would be working with a brand new doctor that specializes in treatment resistant depression. “That’s what you have,” she said kindly. I smiled. I know this but in that moment when I heard someone else speaking those words, it was just different. I felt an onset of emotions flooding me—fear, hopelessness, hopefulness, sadness, relief… It is an answer of prayer to be accepted into such an amazing program, but I am scared too. The intake director went on to explain that there were several new therapies being developed, new studies I could take part in that could potentially save me thousands of dollars, and she was so calming. She treated me like a human—she saw past my illness and believed that Emory could help me. It was a surreal moment.

As I held onto my friend going down the elevator and cried all over her in the parking lot, we stopped to pray and thank God for this amazing opportunity. I know this may not be the answer—not a magic “cure” or whatever, but as Robert De Niro’s character says on Silver Linings Playbook (sorry it's one of my favorites!), “When life reaches out with a moment like this, it’s a sin if you don’t reach back.” I will try. I have an amazing support system that will help me—sometimes they drag me kicking and screaming, but they believe in me and want me to keep going. So, this is now another part of my journey. This experience will be woven into my story no matter the outcome, and I’m sharing this with you because I want you to see my struggle is current. It is real, and it is ongoing.  

If I’m going to have courage and genuinely tell my story with my whole heart, I have to share an essential element of my life.  I have struggled with depression for a long time—on and off intensely for the past ten years. Even when I was a young girl in elementary school, I recall having many tremendous highs and lows. I have tried numerous medications, combinations of medications, talk therapy, Christian counseling, prayer, meditation, spiritual and inspirational books, etc. I have had moments of relief, moments where the darkness has subsided, and I remember these times fondly and vividly. I thank God for these times. But truthfully for so long what I remember and what I fight every day is this gray cloud of depression looming above me.

Some of you reading this may question my faith—if I truly believe that the God I claim to serve and the Words He’s given us in the Bible are true, then why am I still sad? Where is my faith? Shouldn’t I just trust Him and pray more?  Well it’s not an all or nothing type of thing. Many of you reading this do believe and trust in God , but also have struggled or suffered or are still today fighting some form of depression—whether it is chronic like mine, post-partum, manic, or situational. I want to encourage you not to give up fighting, and I want you to know that suffering with depression does not say anything about you. It does not mean you are a failure, are not good enough, or that your faith is weak. It does not have to control you, but you cannot ignore it. And I pray that while I’m attempting to write about this still sadly taboo subject, those of you that question and may sometimes judge or do not truly understand depression, may find some clarity in my words.

There are many famous people who have suffered from a type of depression. I know that may not encourage or help some of you, but it helps me tangibly put into perspective that this illness does not limit my worth. Van Gogh painted one of his most famous and one of my all-time favorite paintings—A Starry Night, after a breakdown while being treated for severe depression in a mental facility. Sir Winston Churchill was very outspoken about his depression. He even named his depression flare-ups “the black dog” and would frequently take respites from his duties when as he would say, “The black dog is upon me.” King Solomon—one of the richest and wisest kings from the Bible struggled. Also from the Bible, Naomi, Hannah, and even King David—the “man after God’s own heart,” all suffered from depression at some point in their journey. The list could go on and on of amazing, influential people that changed the world, but also had another side to them that we sadly do not hear enough about.

And you know what? These are the people though who inspire me the most! These stories touch me and ring true more than a story about someone who never struggled—who never was broken—who never experienced such unbearable, excruciating darkness and heartache. Why? Because their stories are real life!! We all have been broken in some way at some time. I don’t want you to wallow in that, but don’t run from it either. Embracing our vulnerabilities leads to true connection. Exposing our vulnerability grows compassion in us where before there was no understanding or maybe even judgment. Sharing your story, just letting someone else see a glimpse of what you’ve been through or are going through does more than just help them, it allows you to grow and heal as well. I do not mean you should just tell everyone you meet or know—you have to listen to that still, small voice inside you and use your discretion, but if you feel led to share, you should. Brene’ Brown, one of my favorite authors and speakers says, “Share your story with those who deserve to hear it.”  

There’s one song I have really connected to within these past few months by Tenth Avenue North entitled “Worn.” Just read the lyrics to the first verse and chorus:  

I’m tired I’m worn

My heart is heavy

From the work it takes

To keep on breathing

I’ve made mistakes

I’ve let my hope fail

My soul feels crushed

By the weight of this world

 

And I know that you can give me rest

So I cry out with all that I have left

 

Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That you can mend a heart

That’s frail and torn

I wanna know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

Cause I’m worn

 

You know we can’t let that ashes referenced go unnoticed right there at the end. It’s just too powerful. You may be crushed, you may be worn—you may feel dead inside and not know how you will even get out of bed the next day. I have been there. I am fighting alongside you, but please don’t give up. I more than just believe. I am a real life testament to the fact that “a song can rise from the ashes of a broken life.” Every day, I experience recovery and healing—even those dark days that I ignore my phone, close all the blinds, and just cry in my bed. Even in those moments, I still have hope. My faith wavers at times. I suffer from depression, and I say suffer because to me it’s more than just a struggle. Having depression doesn’t have to define you. It is only a part of you that you have to learn to embrace. And as the author Alex Elle says, “I’m thankful for my struggle because without it I wouldn’t have stumbled across my strength.”

 

So knowing and accepting those truths, I want you to trade the ashes of the shame of depression with me. You are not alone. You do not have to hide what you are going through. It is nothing you should feel ashamed of—I am learning this every day. Even while writing this, I cringe to reveal this part of my story, but then I remember it’s worth it. It’s so worth it. Let’s trade those shame ashes for the beauty of redemption and rise from them knowing that we are worthy of love, peace, and hope. Hold onto that hope. Hope is something no one can take from you. John 14:18 says, “I will not leave you comfortless; I will come to you.” Another translation reads, “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.” I love that verse the most because it shows Christ’s amazing, unconditional love for us. HE is coming to us. HE is coming to YOU. There are no conditions. There are not stipulations on His love and comfort.

 

Today let’s trade the shame of depression for the beauty of accepting our flaws, creating true connections through our own vulnerabilities, loving ourselves, and the gift of hope. Doesn’t that sound so much better?

 

You are strong. You are beautiful. You have hope. You are real—and that is the best and only way to be!

 

With all my love,

Carrie 

 

So I have this blog now...

For about 7 months, I have felt the calling to start a blog. I have prayed about it, fought against it, but I know it is something I have to do. I have prayed for those of you who will read this blog—prayed that my simple words will in some way encourage and help you along this journey of life. Plato says, “Be kind for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” I think that is the best description of what this blog will be about for now—my battle to thrive and the battles of others who inspire me to keep going one more day. Yes, it will probably evolve, and I’m excited for that too. But for right now, I’m going to open my heart and share my story.

A HUGE part of my story is that I am a Survivor—a survivor of sexual assault and trauma.  Recovery, support groups, therapy, and other survivors are a crucial and integral part of my life now. Obviously, I didn’t plan that part of my future. But that’s ok, because without that I would not be who I am today. By the grace of God alone, I know now without a doubt, HE is the author and hero of my story.

Now, let me explain a little bit about the title of this blog. Those who know me know my faith is my lifeline. One scripture I fiercely cling to promises, “[God will] comfort all who mourn and give them a crown of beauty instead of ashes.” (Isaiah 61:3) In Biblical times, it was customary to lie in ashes during great times of mourning and difficulty. So when the people of that time had a problem in their lives, they would literally sit down in a pile of ashes. There was no mask, no putting on a brave face. I love that. Life is real. Terrible, unspeakable tragedies occur all around us on a daily basis. It is inevitable that you will experience pain, but life won’t always be painful. There may be nothing initially beautiful about ashes, but there are heartfelt moments and amazing people you meet on this journey. I have experienced love, acceptance, and understanding as never before, and I truly believe we can all trade our ashes for beauty. Even if you are not spiritual, the metaphor can still be powerful, and that is why there could be no more appropriate title for this blog--this journey.

But, what about the recovery—the trading hurt for healing part? I may not still be in the ashes of my assault, but I don’t feel like I’m anywhere near understanding or seeing the beauty from it either. Can I just be honest? The waiting, the healing—it is the most difficult, most excruciating experience I’ve ever been through, even more so than the assault itself. This is the hard part to write about because the wound is still so fresh. Although it’s been some years since my trauma occurred, there are days it still feels like yesterday. Small things turn into huge things. A simple task turns into an unexpected, complicated mess. My therapist, who is a saint, keeps telling me to, “Be kind to yourself.” But, I’m angry! I’m frustrated! I want to shake off the ashes and never look back. Unfortunately, it just doesn’t happen that way. It is a trade. This recovery is a process, and I have to be patient with myself.

Brene’ Brown, a renowned author, shame researcher and storyteller states, “Owning our story can be hard, but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky, but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” Brene’ also speaks a lot about courage and says that the true meaning of courage is to tell your story with your whole heart. Well, I am working on that. I want to tell my story with my whole heart. Why? Because in the midst of lying in and dusting off ashes, there are beautiful moments. There are amazing people who see the beauty from your ashes even when you can’t and especially when you can’t! I don’t want anyone to forget that or get too mucked down in the ashes that they can’t see those moments happening!

I guess this blog—this expression of the trade I am going through is probably one of the scariest and bravest things I’ve ever done.  I am blessed and so thankful to have the support of several close friends who believed in me and faithfully encouraged me to courageously write about my trade—to share my story with my whole heart. What will make all this pain and hurt worth it? Well, my prayer is that God will use me and my story to change someone’s life—to give you hope, to help you not give up, to allow you to know you are not alone. You are valuable, worthy, and important—no matter what battle you’re fighting.  Also, I want to help and encourage you not to miss the beauty occurring all around us every day—the silver lining of our ashes.

I pray that while I’m trading my ashes for beauty, you will be able to do the same. I believe in you, and I know you can do it! Thank you for listening and opening your heart.  

 

One last quote (for now!):

"But, what if I fall? Oh, but my darling… what if you fly?”

 

With love--let's fly,

Carrie