Monday, October 25, 2010

Good friends help us bounce back

October is Mental Health Month in Australia.

Mental health is an issue close to my heart. Not only have I suffered from Major Depression (formerly known as Clinical Depression) and anxiety for over 10 years, but I have watched as family and friends have journeyed through Anorexia, Bulimia, Bipolar Disorder, Dissociative Disorder, Depression and Anxiety disorders.

The reason awareness of mental illness needs to be raised is that while it is now one of the most debilitating illnesses facing society, it is also one of the most misunderstood and incorrectly treated - medically and socially. Sadly, I have often found that the Church is particularly unsympathetic and continues to espouse many false ideas about the issues surrounding mental health.

The two major realities are that:
  • One out of every five Australians [about 20%] will experience some form of mental illness each year. Three out of every ten [about 3 %] will be seriously affected.
  • Only one third of people (34.9%) with a mental health disorder used health services for their mental health problem. Mental Health Council of Australia
One of the major reasons that two-thirds of sufferers don't seek help is the stigma and lack of understanding associated with mental illness. But the fact is that mental disorders are indeed an illness AND just like illnesses such as diabetes or heart disease, they are totally treatable.

The Mental Health Association NSW has chosen for their slogan this October, "Good friends help us bounce back." I love this phrase for a couple of reasons.

Firstly, sharing a mental illness or struggle with someone can often be the first step in breaking the stronghold that it has on your life. Whether you seek help from a professional doctor or psychologist, or simply confide in your friend, change and hope will seem more achievable with someone alongside you.

Secondly, this phrase sums up perfectly the key to my personal recovery. Without the love and encouragement of a faithful group of friends, I would not be where I am today. I have been greatly blessed by people willing to wade into my darkness, sit with me, challenge me, cry with me, pray with me and remind me of hope when I have none.

Mental health issues are a prison that so many don't know how to escape. If you know someone today who is struggling, reach out to them; tell them they are not alone and that there is help and hope available. If you are struggling and feel that there is no hope, dare to reach out and seek help.

Here are just some of the great web resources on mental health:
Sane
beyondblue
Mental Health Association NSW

Saturday, October 23, 2010

God bruise our heels

The new Jars of Clay album is amazing. Just when I think they can't get musically or lyrically better... they do. And because the new album is all about community, I already loved it before I'd even heard it.

The lyric that has been rolling around my head the most this week is this:
So God, bruise the heels we've dug in the ground
That we might move closer to love
It is always such a challenge to allow God to move us from where we are comfortable; whether that be in our actions, theology, doctrines or relationships. But the example that I see Christ setting is one of love above all else.
I can hold on to my beliefs and my interpretations of scripture and I can question people who don't see things the same way. But if I 'dig my heels in' and hold on to these things above loving that person in grace and mercy, then I've lost sight of Jesus' call on my life.
I know that far too often I need God to bruise the heels I've dug in the ground. May we love each other enough not to dig in our heels; and when we do, lovingly nudge each other to free them and find grace.

Friday, October 22, 2010

The tyranny of things

After I posted last night I re-read one of my favourite Wendell Berry poems, and realised how applicable it was to the issue of greed and the church.

We Who Prayed and Wept
We who prayed and wept
from liberty and Kings
and the yoke of liberty
accept the tyranny of things
we do not need.
In plenitude too free,
we have become adept
beneath the yoke of greed.

Those who will not learn
in plenty to keep their place
must learn it by their need
when they have had their way
and the field spurn their seed.
We have failed Thy grace.
Lord, I flinch and pray,
send Thy necessity.
From A Part (1980)

Thursday, October 21, 2010

The Church

[Disclaimer: This post was inspired by this article about the current discussions in the Sydney diocese of the Anglican Church. The older I have become, the more confident I have become in my 'liberalness' and what some would describe as a social justice gospel (I just call it the gospel). This has meant that I've struggled for many years with the tension of disagreeing with many of the teachings and practices of these congregations, yet knowing many wonderful people who consider themselves part of this group of believers. I struggle constantly with believing what I believe and relating to other followers of God with grace and love when we don't agree. So while the following words are inspired by the Sydney Diocese I want to acknowledge that we have all failed the church in some way or another. I mean this as no specific judgment or offense. I am simply a fellow traveler seeking to make sense of faith in the reality of our world. We must all take responsibility for how we, as a global Church, love each other and the world.]

We bank and barter and argue, just like any other company. We accumulate and justify, just like any other group. But I have a sneaking suspicion (no, I should be bold)... actually a firm belief, that the Christian church is not supposed to be like any other company or group.
I know it's unhealthy to make simple judgments about very complex issues. The hierarchies, structures and businesses we have created within, and surrounding, the church are complex and intricate. What started out, I only hope, with the best of intentions has too often become a web of corruption, greed and moral judgment that have tainted the message of hope, grace and love we have to offer.
We have become apathetic to the compromises we have made along the way. I believe we have lost sight of what it really means to be 'in the world, but not of it'; to be both peacemakers and revolutionaries; to be uncomfortable, but help others feel comfortable.
I struggle to make sense of a church leadership that can find themselves in deep financial trouble while still holding onto great wealth, whether that be property or capital. To me it seems something of this situation reminds me of Jesus in the temple; in anger and frustration, turning the table on the money-changers and sellers.
In our gatherings, such as the synod meeting, should we not be asking ourselves how God has called us to love in real and practical ways? Should we not be questioning where our wealth and overflowing prosperity comes from and where it needs to go? How can we as a church stand out from other organisations in the way we are structure and administrate? Should we not be willing to 'live simpler, so that others may simply live'?

Monday, October 11, 2010

The stories we miss

The world news has been filled with stories about the tragic oil leak off the coast of America for over six months now, but large oil spills are old news in the Niger Delta. When I stumbled across this article back in June I was once again reminded of the lesson I've learnt almost every day of my degree....

There are stories all around the world that we never hear about. Stories, tragedies and realities that never make it to the news. When they miraculously do, they appear as a 100-word corner of the World Section, hidden at the back of our newspaper. And unless they have picture quality , they'll certainly never make it to our television screens.

Why are some events newsworthy and others not?

In this case, the same type of event has been happening in a developing nation for years on end with no recognition. And yet the spill off America's coast has had the media machine working overtime since the moment it happened. There is no doubt the spill in the Gulf is serious. It is a colossal environmental disaster. It is a window into the corruption and greed of the rich oil companies. And yet we haven't been at all concerned about the fact that thousands of Nigerians haven't had clean waterways and food sources for years.

The massive amount of wealth underneath the ground in Nigeria is not visible to a large majority of the nation and extreme inequality persists. There is corruption and greed rife in Nigeria at all levels of government and society. Western countries and companies continue to extract resources from this nation with little thought about the injustice and poverty it creates.

Change is desperately needed, in the way Nigerians treat each other and in the way the rest of the world treats Nigeria (and any other developing countries like it). If we ignore these stories, I believe we risk legitimising the corruption and greed of transnational corporations and the wealthy few of the world - which includes you and me. If we ignore the stories, what does it say about our capacity to really tackle injustice and poverty? I think King said it best....
"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." Martin Luther King Jr.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Paying attention

"What we pay attention to is how we spend our lives."
Ann Voskamp
I've spent much of my life paying attention to negative thoughts and feelings - of self-loathing, of hopelessness, of mistrust, of fear, of hurt and anger. 'Life' has been consumed, and wasted, in paying attention to these things, and not really living at all. To some degree it was out of my control - it still requires daily medication to stay on an even keel - and yet, so often I made the choice to pay attention to these things above all else.

This morning as I sat enjoying my home-brewed long black and almond biscuits, reading this beautiful article by Sandra McCracken, I was reminded that I have a choice to be grateful for specific moments and things. I can choose to see the beauty, the grace, the blessing in any given moment. I can choose to pay attention to the comfort of a good cup of coffee and making fresh biscuits rather than giving attention to thoughts of fear and uncertainty.
I can choose to see beauty and hope in life rather than seeing no hope and endless darkness. I can choose to believe in a God of grace and love.
And in these choices, I believe I've paid attention to life and spent my time actually living it.
As Sara Groves says in her song 'Add to the Beauty':
Redemption comes in stange places, small spaces
Calling out the best of who we are
And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story....
This is grace, an invitation to be beautiful
I want to pay attention to the things in life that tell a story of hope and redemption and grace. I want to spend time seeing beauty and creativity and abundant life.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Friday's inspiration

I've been inspired by quite a few things today: An invigorating and interesting job interview; a UNHCR photo exhibit; the new Brooke Fraser album 'Flags'; an (as always) interesting discussion about all things development, the church, human rights and missiology with my friend Bron; a Wendell Berry poem about loving our enemies; making a beautiful cabanossi cabonara and enjoying it with a glass of my favourite Margaret River shiraz. It was an enjoyable day, a day I'm deeply grateful for. But I was struggling to think of anything useful, constructive or coherent to write and then I saw this....
"What we pay attention to is how we spend our lives."
Ann Voskamp (Taken from Roots and Wings.)

I'm not sure yet what I make of this quote or why it struck me so much tonight... Let me think about it, and maybe tomorrow's blog will be a little more coherent!
Meanwhile, pay attention to life

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Epiphany

Unclench your fists
Hold out your hands.
Take mine
.
Let us hold each other.
Thus is his Glory
Manifest.
- Madeleine L'Engle from The Ordering of Love

This is a much more succinct and beautiful description of the truth that I have experienced over the last few years: It is living in community - true, honest, messy, loving community - that we experience the fullness of God.

Amen

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Just another Wednesday

My head and heart are full from a long day. It's so hard to know where to start, what to write at this late hour of the night.

I have the absolute blessing of caring for two beautiful little human beings as a 'job'. I watched Will grow up all the way from birth to the beautiful, sensitive, imaginative, crazy 3-and-a-half year old boy he is now. Today we played lots of games that included 'baddies' and 'goodies'. We made massive bubbles out on the deck in the sunshine. We talked about making up stories.
Sascha was born just over a year ago, and is the most intense, loud, gorgeous, dare-devil 1 year old girl I have ever met. Today she managed to climb onto Will's motorised mini quad bike and off she went (with me running after her, I should add)! Will wouldn't ride it himself until he was at least 2! When she woke up from her nap she snuggled back into my shoulder and stayed there cuddling with me for another ten minutes. We sang along together to our favourite Justine Clarke dvd.
I love those two kids as if they were my own. Every day that I get to spend with them and love them and play with them is a blessing, not a job. Yes, sometimes I get cranky when they are too demanding. Yes, sometimes I'm glad I get to go home and sleep without having to wake up to them. But overall, my life would not be the same without the little brown-haired boy with a beautiful smile and the blonde-haired girl with the big blue eyes.

This evening I spent a couple of hours with three of my favourite people in the whole world talking about life and hope and faith and choices and brokenness and redemption and blessing and curses and prayer and so much more.
I was reminded of the verse from Deuteronomy:
... I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live. Deut. 30:19
When we choose to live (instead of merely exist or waste life) we open ourselves up to more and more of the abundant blessings that God intended for us, and longs to lavish on us. When we choose to live in blessing, and allow God's blessing into our lives, we can experience so much hope and restoration. It can been painful, hard work to choose life.... but it is worth it.

I'm tired from a long day. But my head and heart are full and I am blessed.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

inspiration & mystery

My beautiful and creative friend Katie wrote on her blog yesterday:
It seems that this is how things always go: I want to write and be creative every day but then… life happens; It seems as though there is always something [else] to do, someone to see, errands to be run. Yet, in defiance of these patterns of late, I am resolved to write a blog post every day for this week at least.
Happily Katie
I feel the same way a lot of the time. I am currently in the most creative space I've been for many years, I'm finding inspiration in so many things everyday.... and yet I don't follow through with a lot of the thoughts that pop into my head. And I've been challenged lately that if I want to be a serious writer (and one day maybe even get paid for it!) then I have to do what my piano teacher always told me: practice, practice, practice!

So I'm going to set myself the same challenge and write something on my blog everyday for the next week. Here it goes.....


I have been reading Brian McLaren's brilliant book 'A Generous Orthodoxy' lately. Every chapter contains something beautiful and profound for me, so I am pacing myself to one or two chapters a day. Sometime last week I came across the following quote, and have been reflecting on it ever since:
"To address the issue of a truth greatly reduced requires us to be poets that speak against a prose world." Walter Brueggemann quoted in Brian McLaren's 'A Generous Orthodoxy'
McLaren believes, as do I, that in many parts of the Christian community today the 'Truth' is not alive in the vibrant and dynamic way that it should be. Our call is to speak against this. How then can I be a poet in a prose world?

The most profound way I understand is to be open to the mysterious, paradoxical, messiness of our faith and belief; to acknowledge we misunderstand and don't begin to understand so much. This is the faith I want to seek to live today...

McLaren quotes a Catholic chaplain as saying this:
[when one] attempts to convey something of God's holy otherness he tries one earthly simile after another. In the end he discards them all as inadequate and says apparently wild and senseless things meant to startle the heart into feeling what lies beyond the reaches of the brain. Something of the kind takes place here: 'Eye has not seen nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has for prepared for those who love him.' (1 Cor. 2:9) These realities beyond understanding can be brought closer only by the overthrow of everything naturally comprehensible. Flung into a world of new logic, we are forced to make a genuine effort to understand. A Generous Orthodoxy, 153-54.
May we all experience God's holy otherness in new, mysterious and profound ways, that we might be drawn closer to Him.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

HOPE

Life feels like hard work most days at the moment and it has left me feeling pretty flat. I’ve discovered there is a fine line between letting go of the things in our lives we can’t control, understand and change - the things that must ultimately be God’s domain - and take responsibility for the things we can and should change.

This week my friend led our small group through a meditation on hope. Considering the experiences, both past and present, of members our group, it was an ambitious and sorely needed reflection. Despite our faith, life seems dark and hard at the moment for some and sometimes we need reminding to choose hope over being consumed by the darkness. I especially needed the gentle reminder. It has left me trying to articulate why and how I hope.

On a wall somewhere in my high school was this quote:

"Man can live about forty days without food, about three days without water, about eight minutes without air, but only for one second without hope."
- Author Unknown

As a teenager with depression, I thought I understood this to some degree. But in the ten years since high school, I have begun to live and believe this idea with greater fervency and need than I ever could have imagined then.

If it were not for hope, I would not be alive today. Literally. Hope has saved me on multiple occasions from the dark road of self harm and suicide. Hope has saved me from losing all perspective when I, or dear ones around extreme difficulties. I would not call myself a natural optimist. In fact, I've had to work very hard to not automatically see the worst in any given situation. Depression, as a mindset, teaches you to misread and distort the truths that appear around you. In this context hope is very hard to maintain, and yet absolutely essential to fight for!

A couple of summers ago, my life fell apart. I was already struggling with the worst episode of depression I'd ever had, when a number of factors beyond my control sent me spiralling into severe anxiety, resulting in panic attacks which I had never experienced before. Those months were the blackest months of my life. During that time Ian and Gina (and their daughter Anna) welcomed me into their home and their family. They loved me and cared for me unconditionally. They sat with me though panic attacks and hours of tears. They talked through my deepest hurts and fears with me. They prayed with me. They taught me how to love reality tv shows, and that laughing was irreplaceable medicine. They spoke words of life and hope over me, when I had no capacity to think straight and believe in anything much.

I vividly remember the morning the first ray of hope and light broke through my wall of pain. Sitting at the kitchen bench sipping a cup of tea, I was unable to move with the weight of all that was on my heart and in my head. Ian was speaking to me, when I was overcome with the sense that I was loved. I WAS LOVED. In that moment I was struck with the undeniable reality that I was loved, by God, and by this family that had seen me in my darkest hours. I can't explain why it was that moment I trusted that truth, except to say that the weeks of persistent, practical love and hope finally started to break through my thick head! It was in that moment I knew that there was HOPE. And that hope was life-giving. In that moment, I believe, I experienced the love and grace of God in the most real and profound way. That beloved family were the hands and feet of Christ in my life that summer.

The road back from that dark time was long and windy. And there have been other really difficult times since then. But I have lived through each day in the knowledge that there is hope and that it is the only thing giving me breath.

Now, Ian, Gina and their family are facing one of the darkest time of their lives. Ian is recovering from a blood clot, a stroke and a number of very serious brain surgeries (among other things). There have been a number of times in the last three months when I, and others around me, have been tempted to lose hope. This situation is so unfair. This situation doesn't make any sense. Why do things improve only to get much worse? Will things ever return to ‘normal’?

Towards the end of our evening together this past Wednesday, my friend asked us to think about what we hope for, and what our hope is in. It is easy to think of what I hope for: Ian to recover quickly and fully; for my body to heal from months of post-viral syndrome; my mind to heal from years of depression; and the list goes on.

But being able to describe what my hope is in is a little harder. But I was reminded of this beautiful passage from Colossians:

We look at this Son and see the God who cannot be seen. We look at this Son and see God's original purpose in everything created. For everything, absolutely everything, above and below, visible and invisible, rank after rank after rank of angels—everything got started in him and finds its purpose in him. He was there before any of it came into existence and holds it all together right up to this moment. And when it comes to the church, he organizes and holds it together, like a head does a body.

He was supreme in the beginning and—leading the resurrection parade—he is supreme in the end. From beginning to end he's there, towering far above everything, everyone. So spacious is he, so roomy, that everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding. Not only that, but all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe—people and things, animals and atoms—get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross.

Colossians 1:15-20 (The Message)

Hope, for me, is in the knowledge of a God who loves and cares; a God who redeems and restores all things, creating vibrant harmonies where there once was pain and hurt; A God who blesses us with more than we can imagine or dare to ask for.

I believe I am blessed to have already caught glimpses here and now of the restoration that is promised in Christ. I have seen fractured relationships restored lovingly. I’ve experienced the beginnings of restoration to my completely tattered self-esteem. I’ve seen beauty come out of life’s tragic circumstances.

And these glimpses spur me on to hope more....

That is what I hope for.


"Hope is not about proving anything. It’s about choosing to believe this one thing: that love is bigger than any grim, bleak shit anyone can throw at us."

— Anne Lamott (Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith)