what even is the sanctity of marriage anyhow?

There's a term that I hear thrown around a lot: sanctity. The sanctity of marriage. The sanctity of life. Sanctity basically means sacred and holy. If something possesses sanctity it is of the utmost importance. Now, the sanctity of life totally makes sense to me. Each and every life is sacred and important, and that value should be at the core of our society. The "sanctity of marriage" term started to be thrown around a lot especially when people started freaking out about gay marriage. It was outside the traditional definition and therefore threatened the sanctity of the institution. Now, regardless of your own beliefs on the matter, let's really look at the "sanctity" of the marriage deal, because I personally think it doesn't really exist. Actually, I think its something that can exist ideally, but for the most part hasn't shown up that much.

What we think of as marriage is really what marriage has been in the last 100 or 150 years. I used to think it would be cool to have lived in a different time, but I am seriously glad that I live in the 21st century. As a woman, living in any other time would kind of really suck. When I think about the life I have, getting to have my own individuality, pursuing education, getting to make decisions about my relationships and where I live and what I do for a career...ya that didn't use to exist for us of the female persuasion. And marriage, for the vast, vast majority of history, was not the union of two equals who decide to live their lives together. Legally and socially, women were not equals. They were not able to make decisions about themselves or their families. Throughout their whole lives they would have been defined by two things: either someone's daughter, or someone's wife. Men took charge over their families and women and children were legally chattels. If you don't know, chattel is the legal term for personal possessions, or property other than real estate. A wife was a personal possession of her husband. That was marriage. That was a "proper"  marriage. 

Where's the sanctity? I see no sacredness in being a chattel.  And if that was sanctity, we must have destroyed it when women became legal persons in Canada in 1929 and offset the whole balance of the operation. We have completely redefined marriage as a culture. If you think that there is continuity of what marriage has been throughout all these years of people on earth, you are disillusioned. It isn't a glorious institution that has stood the test of time. Just because we call it the same word doesn't mean we are truly referring to the same thing.

How can an operation that was completely controlled by one sex, that gave dominion over the other in a legally binding relationship, give us the idea that it has this ancient sanctity? 

Personally, I think that in the last 100ish years we've had it the most right. I think we finally have the idea of what a marriage should be, and that the marriages people enter into now are the most meaningful. Because they don't have to, but they choose to. There might be a sanctity of two people choosing to love each other because they really want to. But the historical reality of marriage, the institution that was practiced for thousands of years, I believe is a display of  corrupted sanctity.

So let's not pretend we truly understand what holiness is, because obviously we're still figuring it out.

Is everyone a little bit godly?

My interpretations of terms such as "holy", "godly" and "righteous" have changed dramatically over the years as I grow as a person. The term "godly" has come to be known as "devout" and "churchgoing" which is unfortunate because I really don't think that is the biblical meaning of it. I am no theologian or biblical scholar, but I am a girl who's spent the better part of 20 years journeying through a God-focused existence. And from the way I see it, "godly" means to have the characteristics of God. The representation of that in the New Covenant world is Jesus. He had a killer personality. He was a political rebel and a hippy. He spent the vast majority of his time with people that the general society completely disregarded and broke A LOT of the religious rules of the time. He changed the focus from what the rules said to what the meaning behind the rules really was. 

Check out the sweet flow on the guy

Take murder for example. Clearly outlined in the Old Testament as a no-no. But when Jesus comes, he says no, it's not about the rules anymore, folks. Hatred is evil. Hatred is a no-no. And you can't hate someone and hurt them in any manner of ways up until the point of murder and have that be ok. Thou shall not murder doesn't mean thou shall not murder. It means thou shall not hate. Same with adultery. Its not like adultery is some special, set-apart issue that has it's own significance from anything else. Really, its thou shall not lust. Lust is bad. Lust is the issue. Jesus, and Paul too, like to get to the root of the issue. 

I've talked before about how I think God cares about our hearts more than our actions, and this is just more of that. If you don't commit adultery (which, as an unmarried woman, I couldn't even if I wanted to) it's not like that principle doesn't apply to you. Because the actual act of adultery isn't the point! It's what's going on behind it. The Lust. Lust is icky. Lust is dishonouring to another human being. Lust is seeing a person as an object for pleasure as opposed to a human being worthy of love and respect. 

You see the difference between rule-following and godly living? In Galations chapter 3 and 4, Paul talks about rules 'n stuff. He says how the law was important and necessary in the days of the Old Testament, like how it's important to have rules with a child. These rules help to keep them from harm and to teach them basic principles. However, as children grow up into adults, the rules of their parents translate into moral knowledge that they carry with them. And Paul says that's where we're at with God now. We have the understanding, because of Jesus, to not live bound to the rules, but to connect with the meanings behind them and implement those meanings into our lives. 

So what is "godly" then? Right after Paul is done talking about how rules have changed, he outlines godly living: "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law." 

Can godly characteristics be displayed by non-Christians? Yeah of course. There's really no debate about that. Anyone can display any number of those traits. Then, by that logic, can non-Christians be godly people? Oooooooooh I'm stepping into bad territory now. Conservative Christians everywhere are picking up their pitchforks. It's ok guys, you can believe whatever you want. It's possible I know nothing. But yeah, I think people with a godly character are found in many places, because God is found in many places. Everywhere, in fact. It's possible that God is equally as active in bars and in airports as he is in churches, no? 

If a person does not have an understanding of traditional Christianity but abounds in such traits, are they a godly person? Can a person be both a Christian and be ungodly? 

 

Religion is so $#@%&*! stupid

I've been called a lot of things because of my belief in God and the life I live as a result of it. Some people call me sweet, or kind, or compassionate. Some people call me dedicated or interesting. Some people think that it's "cool" or they say "well that's good for you". Some people treat that area of my life with complete indifference and that is just fine and good with me. But my all-time fav is when people call me so $#@%&*! stupid. 

According to these people, religion and people that adhere to any belief system are so $#@%&*! stupid because obviously religion is a man made trap that has caused nothing but conflict in the world. They think it's so $#@%&*! stupid that someone would spend their life following the idea that some supernatural, unexplained power exists. The definitely find it so $#@%&*! stupid that anyone still goes to church these days. Like, c'mon guys, grow up and stop being so $#@%&*! stupid. 

Of course, if someone holds these aforementioned views, they have every right to. And I love talking to people of different faiths and philosophical backgrounds, because those conversations always yield new understandings. However, people that have philosophical ideas counter to mine often regard my ideas as being incorrect in some way but rarely, if ever, refer to them as being so $#@%&*! stupid. Because calling anything so $#@%&*! stupid often leads to less than intellectually stimulating conversations. In fact, calling things so $#@%&*! stupid often leads to the creation and perpetuation of negative attitudes towards certain people. 

The Spanish conquistadors thought than Incas in South America were so  $#@%&*! stupid. The Nazi regime thought that the Jewish population were so  $#@%&*! stupid. The Crusaders thought that Muslims in The Holy Lands were so $#@%&*! stupid. The slave traders in the United States considered people of colour to be so $#@%&*! stupid. The conservative Christian community considered people in the gay community to be so $#@%&*! stupid. 

Now that is really $#@%&*! stupid. 

You know whats really $#@%&*!  nice though? When people treat other people with mutual respect despite their differences. When people can have the understanding that maybe they don't see other peoples perspectives. When people can put aside their arrogance and consider the possibility that maybe the way they live their lives isn't actually so much better than those around them. Cause ya never know, you might be wrong. I might be wrong. We could all be wrong. 

When you call something so $#@%&*! stupid, you are perpetuating the negative attitudes that have caused problems worldwide since the beginning of time. 

The only thing in this world that is so $#@%&*! stupid is when anyone says that anything is so $#@%&*! stupid. So how about everyone just respectfully agrees to disagree and instead we're nice to each other. 

Bye.

Today Will Always Be A Good Day

I've been warned to not reveal too much personal information on the internet. It's a perfectly valid concern, because privacy on the internet is not a real thing. And although there are some things I believe people should keep to themselves, I think that there is great value and beauty in vulnerability. 

Exactly one year ago today, 18 year old me was in a hospital room and I had given up fighting. Every day was an unbearable struggle. A crushing weight existed at all times. Its intensity would fluctuate, but it would never go away. Constantly trying to push myself through everyday life had become too much and I was so exhausted. My thoughts were no longer influenced by my emotions, but instead I had logically processed why it would be a better choice to just stop. I had weighed the pros and cons and there were far, far too many cons with life. I felt no joy, ever. It didn't matter if I was with my friends or family engaging in activities that I should have enjoyed. There was no joy. There was no peace. There was no light. There was only chaos. Constant chaos. I woke up to chaos, I pushed through chaos all day, and I went to bed with a head full of chaos. It wasn't worth it. And so I was done. I couldn't do it anymore. 

When the nice, warm crisis worker lady came into my room, she looked at me with such love and told me how it didn't matter much what life was like now. "You want to end your life?", she said. "You can end this life then. Start a new one. You've lived this life for 18 years and it doesn't suit you. You can do whatever you want. You can live many more lives. You give up on this life? Sure. That's fine. What will we do in your next life?" 

And she didn't mean that then and there I could just switch over. Well, sort of, but not entirely. I was reborn through that conversation and I felt, for the first time, that my life could die without me dying. July was hard, August was hard. And so was September and October and November... Have you ever walked in a snow storm with the wind in your face? You have an incredible amount of resistance with the added bonus of snow pelting you and making it so you can't see. It's not a nice thing to have to walk through a snow storm. And fighting your way through depression is sort of like that. Only you're not sure that there will be a warm house and hot chocolate in your future. You actually kind of believe that there won't be. All you can really be sure of is the continuation of the storm. And over time you develop strategies with various pieces of clothing to avoid the cold sting on your face. And maybe you can maneuver your body within your jacket to keep your hands as warm as possible. You develop an appreciation for the wind and the challenge it gives you each day. You grow to see the storm not as an enormous struggle but instead as a fact of life. And then, by some miracle, the snow can sometimes even look pretty. You don't have to brace yourself against the wind because you're strong enough to just walk through it. It's hard, man. It's not nice and I wish it on no one. It's a long process of facing horror after horror. And then you look back and realize you've walked worlds away from where you were before. At that point, something appears that hasn't been visible in oh so long: hope.

And that's were I am today: worlds away. The insurmountable problems that burdened my life a year ago are not even present in my life today. The dark prison I was trapped in is long gone, back behind me, somewhere in my path. 

Today, while I was thinking of exactly what I was celebrating, I decided that I'm not happy that I'm still alive. I mean, I am, but that's not the victory. The fact that I'm still alive is ok. But, if I wasn't still alive, that wouldn't have been my worst fate. The ultimate tragedy would be if I was still living in that hell of an existence. That is what I celebrate. That old life is dead, but me, myself, and I have built a new life. 

I honestly never thought that I would feel real joy again. Or be excited for the future. But I have found a purer joy than ever before, and I am better for it. I celebrate the fact that the worst thing that has ever happened to me turned into the greatest blessing I've ever received. 

My Qualified Report on Men

When I was a little boy I had a really hard time refraining from being a jerk. I mean, it was a natural reaction, you know? Boys are programmed to constantly do stupid things that go against all reason. It wasn't even my fault that I kept hurting other people, it was my parents fault for creating a boy instead of a girl. It's a masculine instinct to act before thinking and to not consider consequences. All men who think before they act were trained over years and years to operate in that manner. Unfortunately, it takes a lot of work to fight against manly nature. I know this because I have experienced it first hand.

I always envied girls and their ability to be naturally better people. Like all the other boys, I secretly wished that I could have been born a girl. What a life that could have been.

As a man, I know what boys must go through in order to become the people we were meant to be. I know it's hard, guys, but it's the right thing to do. I can feel your pain because I've been there. And believe me, it doesn't matter what you're thinking or feeling now. You have to fight it, everyday. We can become better people. We can be just as good as girls if we try.

On behalf of all guys, I apologize for being despicable human beings. I know we've let the world down and that jerks like us are the reason for world hunger and poverty. I urge you, men, to put yourselves down constantly and consider yourself less than others as you strive to be as good as a woman.

This is all, of course, completely invalid, seeing as I am a girl, who grew up with only sisters, and didn't speak to boys that I wasn't related to until I was like 10. I have no first hand experience with growing up as a male and the different joys and challenges that may bring. Although I've heard about boys, seen boys, known boys, been friends with boys, and been nurtured by my father and my grandfather, I have no authority to speak on what it may be like to be a boy. I'm sure that boys who read this will feel misrepresented and possibly offended by the words I have used to generalize their gender. What a shame.

The sole purpose of this picture was to get you to click on the link. Thanks, Zac.

There are so many topics and issues that people feel qualified to speak on and that is exceptionally unfortunate. We all have the freedom of speech and the right to say what we want. However, just because you can speak doesn't mean you always should speak.

I think that everyone should share their thoughts and insights because everyone sees the world through their own lens. By comparing and discussing views, we all become more educated. Everyone should feel encouraged to share their stories and life lessons and perspectives. For example, I can feel confident sharing my thoughts and experiences with depression because that is something I have dealt with in my own life. My friends could share what it was like to have a friend experience depression, but not necessarily what it is like to actually have depression. I can share what it was like growing up in the 90's, because I did. My parent's could share what it was like raising kids in the 90's, but would not have authority to speak on what it was like being a child in the 90's. My sister could share what it is like to live with a severely allergy to wheat, because that is something she personally deals with. I could share what it is like to have a sister who struggles with severe food allergies, but I cannot talk with full authority on what having a severe food allergy is like. Ya feel me?

If you listen to me talk about the personal experiences I have to share, and I listen to you talk about the personal experiences you have to share, then we both gain the knowledge of a personal experience. If I project something onto your experience that is not true, I'm an idiot and you're offended and possibly even hurt. So, in an effort to (a) not be idiots and (b) not hurt others, let's not try and be experts on things that we don't actually know about, folks.

You are a font of information. Just not on everything.

7 Things My Struggle With Depression Taught Me

1. Don't let other people determine your worth. You alone have the right, and also the responsibility, of placing worth on yourself and your life. The fact that this person or that person doesn't talk to you as much as you want them to or that you're always overshadowed by your older sibling has no bearing on how much value you have. I mean, you could let that be the measure by which you judge your self-worth, but it's a stupid way to measure it. 
   
2. Don't let your happiness depend on something you may lose. Whether that's a job, a house, your prized shoe collection, or your relationship. It's unfair to yourself because whatever you're depending on could be taken from you and leave your life in ruins. It's also unfair to whatever you are placing the huge responsibility of your life's happiness on. Your shoes don't know how to handle that. They can't possibly be responsible for that big of a thing. Same goes for people. You can't have a friend or significant other be the foundation of your joy. You are setting them up for failure which will not only crush you but will also give them tremendous guilt that isn't warranted. Just don't do it. 
   
3. The person who needs to be happy with your life is you. Not your parents or your teachers or your friends. You. If you're making choices and doing things based on what other people want, it's easy to end up questioning if your life is really all that valuable. It may seem valuable in someone else's eyes, but they're not the ones who need to wake up every morning and live it. Make choices you are happy with, do things that are valuable in your eyes, and the ones who truly love you will accept that you gotta do what you gotta do. It's not easy to live a life that you don't even like. Build a life that you actually enjoy living.
   
   And by the same token:
4. You can do whatever the heck you want to with your life. If you're unhappy with something, just change it. Life is not a game you need to win and there is no slot that you have to fit in to. You are young, always. There is always more time to change it up and do whatever you want. It's your life and you have that liberty. You have no set rules to follow about what you can or cannot do with your life. You can do what you want and be who you want. To not do it is a waste of your time.
   
5. Have a variety of things happening in your life. Instead of focusing all your time and energy on one or two areas in your life, cultivate a well-rounded roster of activities and friend groups. Spending time developing and nurturing a wide variety of friendships and interests brings so much health and balance to your life.  

   

   OMGSH FRIENDS?!

6. Say no to things that are bad for you. Unhealthy relationships are poison to your soul. Take a step back from that one friendship that always brings you down and allow yourself to be free from it's grasp. Just say no, kids. It's not worth it. 



Ugh Britney, JUST SAY NO. 

7. Sometimes other people, even smart people, don't have the answer. Growing up, kids can always trust an adult to tell them what they should be doing. Parents and teachers always tell us what to do next. But there will come a time when you'll look around for directions and your parents may not have the answer for you. Sometimes, no one can tell you what your next step is. Sometimes, you need to depend on yourself and you have to decide what to do. So don't let people trick you into thinking that they have your answers, and don't look for your answer in other people. 

   

   Jks we really don't ever know.

The Most Exciting, Challenging, and Significant Relationship You'll Ever Have

Carrie Bradshaw said it best: "Don't forget to fall in love with yourself first."

Many moons ago, I was talking to a wiser woman about what I think is truly important in life. My main assertion was that living through love is what it all comes down to. She looked at me quite seriously and spoke words that would forever change my life.

"Love is most important?"
"Yes."
"Wouldn't that also mean loving yourself?"

I had actually, truly never thought of it that way.

I wrestled with the idea of humility for a long time as a teenager, not knowing how highly I should consider myself without putting myself above others. But that's not humility at all. Humility is not degrading yourself. You are supposed to respect yourself, to love yourself unconditionally, and to treasure who you are. As said by C.S. Lewis, "Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less." You are of tremendous value as an individual, and you should fully appreciate that. Humility is making room in your life to appreciate the wonderful, beautiful creations that other people are too.

Becoming your own best friend is of extremely high importance. You have to spend your whole life with you. So you may as well reconcile your problems and start working on developing a healthy relationship.

This means putting yourself first. But wait! That's selfish right? Nuh-uh. Actually, no. It's not.
Your health, well-being, and sanity should always be your number one priority.
If you don't take care of yourself, guess what happens? You start falling apart emotionally, mentally, and physically. And guess who has to step in and help you clean yourself up? The people close to you.
So do everyone a favour, and pay attention to you.

If you fall apart, you lose all functionality. If you have to focus on yourself to get your head on straight, do it. Picking up a couple pieces every now and then is way easier for everyone compared to having to pick up all the pieces at once. When you care for yourself, you can care for others so. much. better.

Do you love the people around you? Your children, your siblings, your friends? One of the best things you can do for them is to teach them how to love themselves from watching your example. You can tell them how beautiful and wonderful they are all day, but it won't make a difference if you treat yourself badly. People learn from what they observe. Actions.

What it comes down to is that you can't properly give love or experience love without knowing how to love yourself. You can't respect without knowing how to respect yourself. You can't commit to successful relationships without first having a healthy relationship with yourself. You can't care for others if you don't care for yourself.

But you shouldn't treat yourself well just for the benefit of others, you should do it for you.

Like I said before, you're stuck with you for your whole life. You can decide to be your greatest ally or your greatest enemy. And I don't know about you, but I would rather have a ally inside my head than an enemy.

Nobody is going to "complete you". Ew. Gross. Excuse me while I go vomit. Partners in life are great. Boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives, best friends... they're all fantastic. But nobody, nobody, is going to fill any sort of void in you. That romantic nonsense doesn't exist. It's your job to be a complete person. If you feel incomplete, get to work. Because you've got to become a complete person if you ever want to have any sort of healthy relationship. And if your happiness and self worth depends on someone else, you will be disappointed. Constantly.

And you know what's lovely. You can be a whole, complete, beautiful, dynamic, happy, competent individual. It is 100% achievable. Falling in love with yourself is not narcissistic. Falling in love with yourself for the beautifully messy person you are is the greatest romance of all. And if you can love yourself like that, you can really do anything.

Forgiveness: Not Just For God.

I find it hard to accept happiness sometimes. I question it. I think it's badness masquerading as happiness. I prepare myself for the inevitable pain hiding around the corner. I can't trust life anymore because it has deceived me and wounded me so many times. But happiness exists. It really truly does. True joy exists, real love exists, and pure happiness is a real thing. And I know this as a fact because righteousness wins the world in the end. And it's not that life is always rainbows and butterflies, because it's not. There is good and bad. But there is good, truly. It's at least half of life. Life is not safe and things are challenging, but love and happiness and goodness are real. Very real. 

And yes, life disappoints you. I'm sure it has disappointed you in one way or another. I know it's disappointed me. Things let you down. Evil is a real thing, and people do make mistakes. Between those two things happening, life can dish out a lot of pain. But that does not have to dictate the rest of your life. Through your troubles, life is put into perspective and you become wiser. Wisdom is often a gift that comes at a price. But look, sweetie. You don't have to colour everything black. Some things are truly nice. You have the ability to revel in the good and dismiss the bad. Badness is bad but you do have the power to dismiss it. That is what forgiveness is for. Forgiveness is acknowledging there is badness and then deciding to magically wipe it away. We have that power, that is what forgiveness is. We have the power to erase the bad in our lives. How wonderful a gift forgiveness is. 

And yeah, life would be nicer if we didn't have to forgive. But that's not an option. We have the choice to hold onto the things that bring us down, reminding us of our pain and the injustice that caused them. That is certainly the easier option. We can hold onto it, hoping one day for things to be made right. For the apologies to come. For life to somehow balance out. Or, we can decide to balance the scales ourselves. To absolve the wrong. 

I am mad at life a lot. I'm angry that I've had to face the things I've had to face. I resent my depression and all the things it stole from me without my permission. That's the thing about illness, it never asks your opinion before taking over. It just comes along and does what it wants. And I hate it for that. I hate it so much for all the personal damage it did in my life. But you know what? There's not a single thing I can do about that. It really really sucks. Really. And I wish I could make it pay for what it did to me. But I can't. And when I rehash all the dirty details and I get angry, irritated, and miserable, it doesn't hurt anyone else except for me. Actually, that's a lie. It hurts my family, my boyfriend, and my friends. But it doesn't change my situation. Only forgiveness can do that. The decision to pardon the past.

So forgive yourself. Forgive your feelings and your thoughts. Forgive the things that you've done and the ways that you've felt. Forgive the people that have intentionally hurt you and the people who were simply indifferent towards you. Forgive yourself for letting their indifference hurt you so much. Forgive the life situations that you couldn't change. Forgive illness and pain. It can no longer take hold of you if you forgive it. Forgive your loved ones for the times when they do the wrong thing, and forgive yourself for the times you do the wrong thing. 

And then, when you have erased the evil in your life, live today unhindered by that which was dragging you down. When you erase others' badness towards you, they are a clean slate. There is no reason for their past to influence their future with you. They are new people in your eyes, full of opportunity, purity, and hope.  

You have the power to make life pure and unmarked. Forgive and wipe it all away. You are the one holding you back. If you are missing the joy and contentment in your life, take a real good look at what you're holding onto. 

It's totally normal and really ok to doubt God

I've met a lot of people who respect Christian morals and think Jesus' teaching is great, but find the whole miracle worker resurrection thing to be a little far fetched. Which makes sense because walking on water and rising from the dead and claiming to be God are not exactly normal everyday activities. Everyone I know who claims to be a Christian has had periods of doubt in their life. And sometimes people feel bad about doubting God or doubting the Bible, but doubting and questioning is really healthy. And completely normal.

Take John, Jesus' cousin. It says in the Bible that when Mary (Jesus' mother) and Elizabeth (John's mother) where both pregnant, that John "leaped in her womb" when they were together because he was just seewwww excited to be near Jesus. When John got older he lived in the desert and was pretty much the biggest hippie ever. He "wore clothing made of camel's hair with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey." Honey, yum. Locusts, not yum. And he went around telling people that someone was coming, someone great. He said that the king that Israel had been waiting for was on his way, and that the people should prepare themselves for him. He told them all about Jesus. John baptized all sorts of people, including Jesus himself. He dedicated his entire life to Jesus' mission, even up until his own beheading. So like, he was pretty dedicated. He saw Jesus in the flesh. He baptized him. He was there for the miracles and the preaching. He knew him pretty well.

But get this. Somewhere along the way, John wasn't too sure of it all. He sent messengers to Jesus and he asked him "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?" (Luke 7:19)

LOL can you imagine Jesus' reaction? His cousin who has spent his whole life telling everyone that Jesus is the son of God and that he will save the world just asked if he's really God, or if they should be expecting someone else to come.

But that's not even the best part.

Mary, mother of Jesus. The girl who had the angel come and say "hey gurl you're going to give birth to the son of God and he's going to save everyone". The woman who watched Jesus grow up, witnessed miracles, knew Jesus better than anybody. Jesus' own mommy. She doubted him.

When Jesus' teaching was gathering crowds and crowds of people and he was stirring up trouble with the religious leaders of the day, Mary and his brothers "went to take charge of him, for they said,"he is out of his mind.""

Mary thought he was crazy! She wanted to stop him before it got too far out of hand. This is Mary. Virgin mother of Jesus Christ.

So, if you doubt God, I don't blame you. Jesus' closest companions doubted his authenticity. God invites us to doubt him. If you never doubt and ask questions, how will you ever gain a deeper understanding? Jesus said "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks, the door will be opened." (Matthew 7:7-8)

So have your doubts and question away, because its not like God is hiding all the answers. He's certainly mysterious, but he wants to be known.

My Argentina Saga (The Super Short Version)

A couple years ago I went to Quilmes, Argentina with my church youth group and ran some children's programs in a local community children's center-ish thing. It was such an incredible experience to play with the children and to get to know the community and the culture. It was an all-around great 10 days of personal and spiritual growth. That's the usual way trips like that turn out. Great bonding experiences and learning and fun.

Everyone got a chance to go visit families in their homes as part of the trip. Seeing children in the context of the community center is one thing, but seeing children living in poverty is really hard. The family I got to visit lived in a legitimate shack with garbage everywhere and dogs that clearly had diseases. A woman came out to greet us and she asked us some questions about our lives but I pretty much couldn't speak. What on earth do you say to someone who lives in garbage when you live in suburbia and have a fridge full of food and two cars in the driveway. We said our goodbyes and as we turned and walked away about half of the group burst into tears. For me, it was the guilt. I felt overwhelming guilt. What right do I have to use so many resources when her and her family get so little? How dare I spend 15 dollars on a movie ticket when 15 dollars could buy them food. Why do I get to live the way I do without thinking of the lives I could be helping? And how on earth did I not realize all of this before. I felt my heart shatter into about a million pieces. I cried for a couple hours, no joke. There was nothing feel-good or fun about it.

Later that week I had the opportunity to visit her and her family again and bring them some groceries. I told her (through a translator) how much she had touched my heart and how I will be praying for her and her family. I could see her eyes tearing up and she thanked me. Before we left I prayed for her out loud and had it translated so she could understand. I prayed for peace and rest and for her to feel God in her life. I prayed for her needs to be met and for her to find joy and to feel safe. I probably rambled on more than necessary but she seemed to enjoy it. She gave me a big hug and sort of nestled into me. (She was much much shorter than I, so her head rested on my chest) I hugged her back and I could hear her sobbing into my shirt. She just cried and cried and I cried and cried and it was a lot of crying but it was also beautiful. Because love transcends all differences. And she said God bless you and I felt blessed. I felt blessed to have met her and to have shown some love to her, even if it was super small. 

Tears everywhere.

At the airport when we were leaving, the pastor that we had been working with came to me and pointed to me and said "heart especial". And I had no words. I felt 0% special and 100% percent unsettled. How do I live now that I know people, personally, who are in real, live, hard poverty. 

I didn't really. I cried all the time. I spent every lunch hour with my favourite teacher debating how life can possibly be so unfair. I went to worship services and cried. I went home and cried. I went to school and cried. And then I started looking up flights to Argentina because like obviously I had to go back. I graduated and went to work at camp and I thought about Argentina all the time. I had conversations about it and cried. And the more I thought about the more I really felt like I needed to go back. I had no idea why or how (plane tickets ain't cheap) but I felt this strong pull. My heart was so restless. 

Summer finished and I started university. In the first month I had to write a paper about something I cared about. I wrote it about Argentina and I bawled my eyes out while typing. That's hard. Typing and crying. Your eyes get super blurry. So I started saving money and I told my parents I wanted to go to Argentina.

"By yourself?" They thought I was mildly insane I'm sure but like yolo whatever. They were supportive despite their concerns. 

I made plans with my friends in Argentina and settled dates and when I had enough money I bought my ticket.

If you've read any of my other blogs you would know that it's around this time when I lost my grip on life and shut down to the world and spent months in the dark of my mind. Which made everyone a little more concerned about my 3 week journey by myself to the other side of the world. And by the time the trip rolled around I didn't even feel like going. I didn't feel like doing a single thing anymore. I didn't feel anything. I wanted to fall asleep and sleep forever. I was broken in countless different ways and I could barely put one foot in front of the other. But I had already bought the ticket and planned it all so I went ahead and I got on the plane and then... I was there. 

I was in Argentina. Me, myself, and I...and my antidepressants. But I got there and I saw my wonderful Argentinian friend and I heard the Spanish and I saw the buildings and it felt right. And that was a big deal cause nothing felt right in those days. When I went back to Quilmes and saw the children's center and the pastor and everything I felt like I was home. I was exactly where I needed to be. Exactly. Despite the absolutely crazy couple of months I had gone through, I felt an incredible sense of peace. And for the first time in a long time, I felt God really and truly with me. I knew I was there because he had placed it so heavily on my heart. 

During my 3 weeks there I got to experience a lot of things. I met a lot of people, I saw a lot of sights, I got to be a 15 hour plane ride away from my problems and it was so good. I felt brave for doing something like this on my own. I wasn't really alone though. My Argentinian family adopted me in a wonderful way. I learned a lot. About myself, about Argentinian culture, about ministry, and just about life in general. The depression weighed in now and again. I was constantly exhausted. At night my personal darkness grew and grew. But I would still try again the next day.

When I got to go back and visit the woman I had met the year previous, I was so excited and also nervous. I wondered how she was doing and what it would be like to see her again. We walked up to her gate, she came out, and it was wonderful. She smiled a big smile and I smiled a big smile and we greeted each other and she told me how she'd been doing well since I'd seen her last. She talked about how meeting my youth group had been so instrumental in her feeling good about life again. I told her I wanted to do something to help her and she shrugged her shoulders and said "I have no need for anything." 

Right. Take that in right there. She needs nothing, she says. Talk about being content with what you have. The godly heart of this woman makes me see so many things lacking in myself. She lives in abject poverty but sure, she needs nothing. 

She admits she will accept something for her children. Shoes would be good. So, shoes it is. 

We hug and I go to let go but she's still clinging. I hear her sniffle and some tears roll down her cheek and land on my shirt. So I hold her tight and I stroke her hair a little bit and rub her back. It's an unbelievable connection. The universal language of love. The most beautiful thing I have ever been blessed with experiencing. 

When I came back a week later with the shoes, she got her kids to come out and try them on and thank me. They are 5 million times more awkward than she is when dealing with me. To them I must just be the strange English speaking girl who keeps visiting their mom. I hugged her and I prayed with her before we left for good. Without a translator this time, she can't really understand what I'm saying. But she said amen after every sentence anyway. We had another heartfelt crying session before the pastor and I walked away.

The pastor (who speaks broken English) and I walked down the dirt road and the sun was making it's way down in the sky and I felt completely accomplished. Not because I did anything special. But the unsettled-ness that had resided in my heart for the past year was not there. I felt settled. I felt like God had wanted me to do something and I went and I did it. It wasn't a big thing. But what's more lovely than reminding someone that you love them? That despite living on a different continent and speaking a different language, I want so badly to be friends. I felt good. Such a rare feeling for me those days. It was a pretty nice evening and there were some kids still playing by their houses and there were dogs running everywhere and the world seemed ok. And as we were walking, the pastor said "you," and she looked at me seriously, "will have beautiful life." 

And that stuck deep deep deep in my wounded broken heart. A ray of beautiful hope amidst all my icky darkness. It's a moment that I will never forget. That whole moment of wonderfulness, of love, of accomplishment... it's why I came back. It was all for that. It's the kind of person I want to be and the kind of life I want to live. I want a beautiful life.

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

1 Peter 4:8 

The Gift of Elderly People

A couple years ago I started working at a retirement home. On my first or second day I was looking through the resident files to get to know the people I would be working with. I was absolutely astounded with what I saw. Two thirds of the people had been part of the army during WW2, from foot soldiers to air force pilots to explosives engineers. There was even a elderly woman living there who had been a bomb technician. I didn't even think women could do that back then.

Not to mention people who had built business empires from nothing. Writers, painters, travellers, politicans.

I was amazed that all these incredible individuals were hiding out in a nursing home in Richmond Hill. Sometimes I think we forget that elderly people, although frail and confined now, lived really vibrant lives. And the people that accomplished great things in their younger years are still there. They're just slowed down by the effects of aging. Many of them keep to themselves and enjoy bingo and reading, but they are fonts of information on all kinds of topics if you ask them. Decades and decades of knowledge stored away, remaining mostly untapped.

I remember one man who spent the majority of his time dozing off in the common room. One day I began talking to him about his family and his hobbies and he mentioned how he enjoyed painting. I asked him if I could see some paintings and he was delighted that I was interested. We went into his room and as I walked through the door I saw paintings everywhere of landscapes from across Canada. Painting was not a hobby; it had been his profession for his whole life after the war. There were newspaper clippings scattered here and there from when he had been interviewed, or from when he had opened art exhibits or had special events. He called me over to the window where he showed me his current project. He sat in front of it and picked up his brush and began to paint. Despite the fact that his hands shook uncontrollably when he tried to feed himself or hold the newspaper, his lines and strokes could not have been more precise when he held his paintbrush and brought it to the canvas. It was such a beautiful sight.

There was another woman I spent quite a bit of time with because she was a sharp lady and she reveled in conversation. At age 96, she was mobile, self-sufficient, and full of wit and sarcasm. She enjoyed telling me about the love of her life (who she swore looked just like Humphrey Bogart), and about the travel she did by herself as a young woman. She woke up promptly everyday at 6:30 am and braided her long white hair down her back and whipped around the retirement home on her walker like a "spring chicken".

I learned more about life and the world from the aging people that I worked with then I did from my actual classes that year in high school. As they got to know me, they enjoyed talking to me about my educational and vocational plans. While my grade 12 teachers were encouraging me to be practical and make plans for my future, my old people friends were telling me to take chances and be reckless because "you never get the time back, sweetheart" and "life never goes how you plan".

Elderly people are full of life experience. They're the most learned of souls on the planet. I don't know why they aren't considered the best teachers and the people we would want to spend the most amount of time with. As a society I think we seriously need to treasure our elderly beauties more.

My New Year's Resolution Is To Eat More Ice Cream

Like all people at the beginning of a new year, I've started to exercise more in the hope of making 2014 a fitness-filled year. We'll see how that goes for all of us.

I got to thinking about how I already know I will disappoint myself. You see, I'm sort of at a steady state already. So even with my increased exercise, my body really isn't going to change that much unless I go on a dramatic diet kick for a little while. So, I was pondering what a veggie and fiber filled January I might be having when I remembered how much I hate dieting and how ridiculous of a notion it is.

If you want dramatic results right away, eat less and exercise more. You'll lose weight and be hungry.
If you want to have a healthier lifestyle, eat right and exercise more. You'll see great results in 3-6 months.

But the message isn't to look and feel great in 6 months. You're not supposed to feel great because your body is being taken care of, you're supposed to feel great because you look great and other people notice your beautiful body. And it should happen in like a week or so.

If you take a second to Google image search "thinspiration" you'll see what young women are up against. People don't need to tell us to our faces that we're fat and we should eat only kale and dust and live on a treadmill. Media images do that everyday. They glare at us and say "you're not good enough". And it's not just girls. I've seen attractive guys pick themselves apart in mirrors as well. When you're fit and attractive, people are nicer to you. You get better customer service at stores. People are more likely to smile at you. People talk to me more when I'm wearing makeup and a cute outfit. It's just the truth.

Apparently in 2014 "Strong is the new skinny". I see that caption pasted on pictures of girls weight lifting. And that's cool, I'm glad they can bench press, but it's the same girl I saw last year, and the year before, and the year before that, all perfectly lean and kale/dust eating. So, strong may be sexy but skinny hasn't been replaced. And I'm not 115 pounds like I was when I was 14, but I am strong. I know I look like I enjoy my ice cream and sweat pants but I can get a heavy brick from the bottom of a pool and portage a canoe if you ask me to. I would love to see the twig girl in the fake bench press picture try to portage a canoe. *snap*

I want people to like me and treat me nicely but I don't want to starve myself. I really like ice cream and kale tastes really gross. Ya feel me?

And actually, I don't want to be a picture on tumblr because outsides are nice but they're also just things. And I hope when people look at me they don't just see me for what I look like. Because that's objectification and it ruins people's lives. It ruins people's outsides when they try to be a fantasy. And it ruins people's insides when they appreciate only a fantasy.

People are beautiful creations in a million different ways and therefore we should have a million different ways of viewing and appreciating each other.

Act I, Part 3: Using the Force

I would like to take a moment to point out that in my last post, I didn't speak of defeating and demolishing what controlled me, but rather I spoke of learning to control it. And here's why.

Emotions are not bad. No no. As much as my emotional side controlled my life in a bad way, it also opened my life in a cool way. You see, as a result of being emotionally sensitive, I saw things that other people didn't see. I've always had a knack for getting into other people's heads. I can smell people's problems from a mile away and I get right in there and help them fix it all up. I don't find other people's messes intimidating. I find them compelling. Like a challenge. I'm a pretty quiet, shy person, but I am an A+ listener. I have a soft heart for people, and that is definitely the quality that I like the most about myself. So my emotional drive was my greatest weakness but also my greatest personal strength. Whaaaat crazy right? I just spent two posts talking about how awful it is. JKS.

Here's the thing. Everything in this world has a good aspect and a bad aspect and that's just the world. Nothing we can do about that. But we can choose which aspect we will try to work with.

In Star Wars, those who learn and understand the Force can use it for good or for evil. The thing is, those who use it for evil are indeed mastered by the Force instead of being masters of the Force. The Force becomes a compelling power within them. The Dark Side owns them. Don't be a silly Sith. They are mastered, not masters. Oh but dem Jedi doe. They learn the Force and they master the Force. They are not controlled, but rather they control.

Jesus, dat great guy, he said "my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in your weakness."
2 Corinthians 12:9

My emotions are cray-cray and out of control but because of that, Jesus can come in and be like "I GAT DIS" and he really helps me figure it out.

I am making so many movie references but like, whatever. For all ya Harry Potter fans. When Harry is a child he makes things happen that he doesn't mean to. He's got magic going on inside him but he has no idea how to control it and he's kind of all over the place. He has to spend years and years learning how to channel and use it properly so he doesn't go around letting snakes loose everywhere and blowing up all his aunts.

Jesus is like the ultimate Obi-Wan or the ultimate Dumbledore. But so much better. He helped me out, whatta guy. He helped me so that I don't have to be controlled and knocked down, but rather I can use the power that dwells in my emotions in a positive way. To build myself up, and to build others up.

I learned the Force. I mastered the Force. I'm basically a Jedi.

Act I, Part 2: Mastering My Master

Last post I talked about my bed-dwelling habits that stemmed from my overactive emotional side. Oh, emotions. I have always been an emotional thinker. I am so sensitive to everything people say or do. I take almost everything personally.

When I was a child, I described myself as a bit of a "spaz". My emotions would react to situations I encountered before my logic and reason even had a chance to process what was happening. I remember once in grade 6, a boy in my class was making fun of me or something and my automatic reaction was to try to flip his desk on him. Good times, good times. It didn't work cause he was bigger than me, but it's the thought that counts.

That was me, sensitive to everything, emotions always running high. It's always been my greatest weakness and my largest stumbling block.

I don't really know about your life, but I figure we all have things that control us to a certain degree. All through my life I have been controlled by my emotions and it has almost always gotten me into trouble. Hence the bed-dwelling social strategy. Once you've identified your master, that which overcomes your life, I believe you have a choice. You can allow yourself to be overcome, or you can master that which overcomes you.

My emotions ran rampant and controlled my life for oh so long. And it wasn't seriously detrimental enough for me to bother to take action against it. Oh, but then it was seriously detrimental. For a while I let it happen. It was like I was watching my life happen from a perspective not my own and I just let the scene play out in front of me.

But then, after a while, I got to a point where I was like ummmm you know what, no. I am sick of not being in control of my own life. So, I gave it a try. And I gave it a hard try, not a shallow try. This was my freakin life. NUH-UH I'm done with this crap. It was great and all wallowing in my sadness but I was kinda over it. And believe me when I say that taking control of that which controls you is not easy and I know it. It took literally every bit of strength and energy I had to make the conscience effort to fight against my controller.

The reason I was able to take control was because of the heartbreak of a harsh reality hitting me square in the face. It broke my comfort. It made me uncomfortable accepting the lies and over-exaggerations my crazy emotions tried to feed me. It made me critical of what I was thinking and feeling. I didn't trust much. I had been let down.

I honestly can't even tell you exactly how it happened. But somewhere between heartbreak and recovery, a different side of me emerged. I started thinking more and feeling less. I'm not a heartless monster but my emotions do not rule my life. My emotions had gotten so crazy and out of control they had led me to a do-or-die moment. I had a choice give up or to fight back. And I fought.

I really wish I could talk to 16 year old Laura. I wish I could tell her that she is so much more than she thinks she is. I wish I could let her know that one day she will really, truly love herself and that none of what is eating away at her will matter anymore. I wish I could tell her that one day she'll win. That she'll conquer.

Spending a day or two relaxing in bed is a wonderful thing. When the bed life is everyday life, when it becomes your lifestyle, you have a problem. It should be your choice to relax in bed, not something done out of compulsion and fear of the outside world. Bed won't save you. But you can save you. (with some help)

Act I: I didn't choose the bed life, the bed life chose me.

So. In my very first post I said I was going to tell you a story. A story about me. A sort of ugly story. I think sharing our stories is super important. And now that I've given a bit of an introduction to the major themes in my life, I'm ready to go.

I don't pretend to be a theological scholar and my intention is not to make a social commentary. I don't think my opinions count for anything to anyone except for myself. lol I can barely live my own life so I'm certainly not going to attempt to take yours on too. I just want to tell ya'll a story. 

I'm a relational person. If anyone knows me, they know that I like to spend a lot of time in bed pretending the world doesn't exist, but I lay in bed pretending the world doesn't exist because I am a relational person. It all makes sense, I swear. I am an emotionally passionate person, but not an emotionally strong one. Having personal relationships with people is what adds value and joy to my life. But when those relationships also dish out hurt, I retreat like a turtle into my shell. Or like a clown fish into an anemone. The anemone is a better analogy. I'd rather be a clown fish than a turtle. Depending on the type of turtle I suppose. Anyways... After a while, the seclusion gets comfortable, and staying in the anemone becomes more desirable than going out into the ocean because you're safe from harm. Your life isn't getting better, but it's not getting worse either, and that's worth something. And that, my friends, was (and sometimes still is) my mindset. So I stayed in my anemone, keeping the bad out, but often keeping the good out too. 

While the initial appearance of protection seems appealing, it began to eat away at me. Because I am a relational person and I need connection with people.

I have been using this coping strategy for as long as I can remember. Avoid the hurt, just avoid it. My bed won't hurt me, my bed provides me with comfort and warmth. Why would I leave it to have to deal with people? Makes puuuuurfect sense. I would love to be a cat. They just lay around and sleep and eat and do their own thing and don't really care about the humans. Unfortunately, I am not a cat, and whether or not I choose to admit it, I care about the humans. 

I was never (not even now) actually comfortable with who I was as a child or a teenager. I tried my best to be friends with people but I would flip flop between trying to be a part of the group and hiding in my bed. Petrified of any kind of rejection, I just didn't put myself out there. To some degree that has been a part of my personality my whole life, but it is also partly a learned reaction. Because I'm oh so emotionally sensitive, everything that happened to me that could be perceived as rejection, would appear clearly as rejection in my eyes. Therefore, I saw rejection everywhere and pulled the blankets up over my head for protection from it all. Half of it wasn't even real. It was me not being able to navigate relationships and handle my environment. 

When I was in grade 11, my biology teacher noticed I wasn't looking too well and talked to the guidance department. Before long I was having weekly appointments with a school psychologist. I had real problems going on then. Family health concerns and whatnot. But when it came down to it, I was handling that stuff pretty well. What was eating away at me more than anything was a dysfunctional friendship that I had poured my heart into. I felt abandoned and alone and I believed, for real, that I wasn't that good of a person. Truly though, as a result of my shell/anemone/bed coping mechanism and my fear of rejection, I didn't allow my personality to show half the time. I was shy and weird. And I felt like an unnecessary addition to my closest friends. I just accepted it as part of my identity and tried to move on. (FYI: this is not how I wanted to feel. I was not feeling sorry for myself. If I was feeling sorry for myself I would have gone around saying "Oh look at me I'm so sad, nobody likes me, blah blah blah" to get validation from all my friends. This wasn't a surface issue. I legitimately believed, deep down inside myself, that I wasn't as worthwhile as some other people.) Until this school psychologist challenged it. I saw her every Tuesday at 11:30am all through grade 11. I came out of that with a much healthier perspective on relationships and how to negotiate my way through relationship-based problems. Twas grand. One step in a better direction. Still not the right direction, but i was getting there. 

There we'll leave 16 year old Laura for now. Slightly emotionally unstable but still mostly a good egg. 

Taking off the good girl mask

When I was a little girl I learned about what was right and wrong. In my mind it was perfectly black and white and I intended to be on the right side of it all. In church I learned that Christian girls don't swear, drink, smoke, and they don't have sex until they're married. Those were the golden rules of being a good Christian girl. If you don't follow those rules, you are morally impure and have highly questionable faith. However, if you do follow those rules, you're the golden child. The model of the modern Christian teen. 

So, I took that all to heart and tried my best to follow all the rules and guidelines to succeed as a good girl. On the outside, teenage Laura was a perfect good girl. I didn't go to parties, I didn't fraternize with the "bad" kids. I was very involved in my church. I went on mission trips and I lead bible studies. I built walls of "righteousness" around me to reflect my "goodness", while inside those walls there was a broken, messy girl. Church taught me to follow rules and play a certain part, not to be honest about my struggles. Heaven forbid a "good Christian girl" have real problems.

However, the whole time I was emulating the good girl image, I wasn't a good girl at all. The difference was, instead of being transparent about my bad girl parts, I just hid them and kept them a secret. I didn't want my Christian peers to see me as the "bad girl". It's much easier to play the part and lock away the "badness" within. 

Here's the enormous problem with that idea. That is the opposite of Christian living. Being a Christian is 0% about following rules. The whole point of Christianity is that we receive love and grace without having to do anything. God pours out his love on us not because of what we do, but simply because he loves us. He loves me, good girl parts and bad girl parts combined. And by putting on a mask of fake "goodness", I diminished the power of that love. Truthfully, I am an imperfect person loved by a perfect God. 

I always have been. By wearing a good girl mask, I was even more of a sinner than without it. Being dishonest about where you're at and what kind of person you are is problematic for two reasons. Firstly, you're not being a genuine person. And secondly, you're being a terrible witness to people around you by pretending Christianity is about following certain rules. People focus so much on outside behaviours and not enough on what's going on inside. The Bible says that men judge by what they see but God judges your heart. So what's going on inside, the things that are unseen, are of primary importance. 

In Matthew 23:25-26 Jesus uses a metaphor of dirty dishes to illustrate this problem. "You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean." 

Being clean and pretty and "good" on the outside means absolutely nothing. God cares way more about what's going on inside your heart. You focus on that stuff first and then the outside will clean itself.

It's stupid to wear a mask. It's not what Christianity is about and it's not helpful to anyone. You're not a good girl or a good boy so cut the crap. We all have some bad girl-ness and bad boy-ness inside. That's just a part of being human. And you know what? God's ok with that. You think he doesn't know that perfection isn't a human option? Yeah right. You think he did the whole crucifixion thing just for fun? Hardly.

Stop playing the part Christian culture has told you to play, and start playing the part of YOU. Because God doesn't love your mask, he loves YOU. Good parts and bad. 

I've taken off my mask and burned it. I'm a bad girl Christian and that's ok. 

Being a Christian hasn't made me "good", it's made me forgiven and it's made me free. Free to love myself, even though I'm a bad girl, because God loves me.  

The Reality of Depression

There have been lots of challenging things I’ve faced in my life: friend problems, school problems, family problems, and problems I’ve had with myself. I have always been aware that life is not full of rainbows and butterflies. I consider myself to be a fairly strong person; I have been able to negotiate my way through many hard situations over the years. So when I found myself in the hospital on July 7^th, 2013 under psychiatric evaluation even I was shocked.

But to understand this part of my story we’re going to have to backtrack a bit. Earlier that year I had moved to university with a couple issues already weighing on my heart. After the series of relationships I had witnessed breaking at my former church, I felt a little bit abandoned. Living in a new place where I knew almost no one was difficult. And it wasn’t helping that I felt like I didn’t have much to go back to at home. I was in this weird state where the most comfortable place for me, the place I felt the most at home, was on the greyhound bus between my parents’ house and my new school. As the months passed, my feelings of loneliness and worthlessness increased steadily. I spent the majority of my time in my dorm room sleeping, watching movies, and eating cake. I started skipping my classes and I stopped talking to my family.

Eventually I was diagnosed with depression and I started treatment. By the end of the school term in April I had given up on the life I had imagined for myself. If you had asked me in grade 12 what my life would look like after first year, this was not what I would have told you. I was not interested in this life. Believe it or not, a life that is filled with doctor visits, medication, and counselling is not actually that fun. I remember getting my antidepressant prescription filled for the first time. I stared at the bottle of pills and laughed manically for about 5 minutes. I never imagined in my entire life that this is what would happen to me.

And people… yeah people don’t understand.

“Why are you depressed?” Yeah, because I definitely knew the answer to that. Being depressed isn’t being upset or sad. Being depressed is being done.  

I can’t decide whether depression felt more like I was burning alive or drowning. A little bit of both. I could feel the heat. And the lick of the flames as they got close. And as that’s happening I was gasping for air, unable to get any. And I was just sinking deeper and deeper, until the light was gone and all I saw was darkness.

I wasn’t sleeping for 15 hours because I was lazy, it’s because I was constantly exhausted. And no one in this world was more disappointed in me than myself. I couldn’t believe I had become so useless. There was so much I wanted to do and I had lost the capacity to do it.

When you get to that stage, nothing matters. Actually though. I’m not trying to be dramatic. When each step feels like you weigh a million pounds you really don’t want to do anything. Being able to get out of the house at all was a victory. How ridiculously sad is that. It’s sad. And that was my everyday life.

And then sometimes the thoughts come, the really bad ones, the ones you can’t control. It’s like thousands of pictures flashing before your eyes and you want to stop the emotionally painful slideshow but you can’t. It keeps going. And going. All the worst possible thoughts and feelings bombard you and you’re helpless to the abuse. All you can do is curl up on the floor and scream.

And that’s how I ended up in the hospital. You know you’re in trouble when the nurse says “If you try to leave, we’ll have to call the police”. Yay, thanks. I feel so great about life. Yippee.

But alas, here I am. Not in the hospital and actually able to do something with my life again.

Healing is a weird thing. Because, in my opinion, it is more painful than the initial wound. I have been dark places. Very dark places. And sometimes I still live in the shadow of that darkness, but it doesn’t engulf me the same way it used to. I can talk about this now because it’s not my whole life anymore.

Psalm 23 has always been one of favourite passages of the Bible. I used to find it comforting. 

“The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul.” 

It all sounds so lovely, so peaceful. And that is true. God does bless us with peace, he does take care of our needs. But, as you read the rest of that passage it says “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” So yea, we will lie down and have rest in green pastures but we will also walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I never used to realize how intense that was. But look at those words. The valley of the shadow of death. That sounds like the least fun place possible. 

And it doesn’t stop there. It also says “You make a place for me at the table of my enemies” So God blesses you and lavishes love on you but he doesn’t keep us from problems or from danger. He doesn’t just put us beside evil. He puts us right in the middle of it all. He prepares a place for us right in the middle of our enemies.

Life is not easy. And receiving blessings from God doesn’t mean a house and a car and 2  kids and summer vacations and a good pension. It says that nowhere in the bible. The richest blessings we can receive are outlined in Galatians when Paul talks about the fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Those are the best things in the whole world. That’s what life is about. If you have gained any of those things in your life, you have been richly blessed. Blessed beyond anything else you could have asked for.

But sometimes gaining those blessings isn't pleasant. Sometimes you have to be broken down to be built up correctly. 

So even though the last year has felt like a living hell, I wouldn't want to change it. There were some not-so-right things about past Laura that have been fixed. And there are some not-so-right things about present Laura that I'm sure will be fixed. It probably won't be pretty, but I'm sure it won't be for nothing.