Slices Abroad{a series about my getting over myself} part 3

free will

Today I read in Sarah Young’s Devotional: Jesus Calling this line:

“the gift of free will is an awesome responsibility”

my paraphrase of the lines that proceeded that line:

” focus on pleasing God, so not be blown and scattered by the winds of busy doing and aimless achievement”

My last post in my {getting over myself} series I wrote of knowing I was not going in a good direction…pitching forward down a horrific path more like it…the snowball effect of a little cold ball growing into a sizable mass, spurred on by the kinetic energy of self.

So, there I was.

Depressed, very angry, pretty disappointed, compounded by the guilt of feeling those things that I knew I should not be experiences; both on a moral basis and a logical basis.  Sometimes our feelings are pressing down on us because of the direction we allowed ourselves to trod:

self pity



Sometimes these feeling press down on us simply because it materializes the moment we wake up:

the lethargy

the sadness

the tension

the feeling of out of control

One can have these feelings overwhelmingly present while we ourselves, or our situation have nothing to do with it. The distinction between the two were critical for my healing.

Free will is an awesome responsibility.

I, as a child of God could take control of all those inner dialogue thoughts that spun a frenzy of impassioned feelings. Because I, with the promise of Scripture telling me to “take every thought captive in Christ”, could steer my thoughts, this naturally led to the ability to stop my words.

Words of sarcasm

Words of complaining

The F-bomb

The absolutes in my sentences like:

“every time”


“no matter what”

because these give a fresh blast of oxygen to the flame of hopelessness that is always licking at me when I start to feel depressed and angry and tense.

Ann Voskamp’s Book,One Thousand Gifts again, was the missing piece to the puzzle in my mind as to why, despite all the praying and Bible memorizing I was still getting sucked down in such despair that led to such awful sin.

The combatant to all these loathsome thought processes and verbal throw up of nasty:


Moment by moment.

Gratitude shrinks self.

Self has not in mind the will of God.


But that was only half of what was going on.

My buzzing beehive of a mind  that this lady tried to quiet and beat down everyday at age of thirty-years- old with four children aged nine, seven, four, and two.

What about the waking up, as I tried to describe it in words to others, with “what feels like a dark cloud settling right over me, sucking all positive thoughts, enthusiasm, and energy”?

What about the tension that is pulled so tight inside of me, right below the breastbone, that I have to clench my fist in a permanent clawed ball to get through and stay in control over a simple breakfast with my children?

What about when:

the milk spills,

the kindergarten lets out a high squeal of protest because her little sister put her finger in her milk,

the toddler drops the pink rubber spoon globed with yogurt on the floor for the 5th time in two minutes,

and I react like someone just shot a riffle in the air, I jump so, I want to dive for cover so, I curse out loud in a visceral reaction so…over and over again?

What then?

This foreign, completely un-Me feelings and person has no part of anything I have done.

Just the guilt that follows.


That was the answer.

What is often deemed as the:


lack of faith,

half-ass believer

way to cope,

was in actuality stirring up those things that counter a life in Christ, as I refused to go on medicine for the reasons listed above.

{Literally…they are just above this last sentence if you want to review again, skip the swear word if it bothers you}.

You see my reasons were only in part theological.  The root was all about:


I did not want to be one of those “desperate housewives” on anti-depressants.

I had spent far, far too many years judging those who used medication to ascend to such a deplorable low myself.

Also, I wanted to figure it all out. This whole God in control yet sin abounds, injustice is still present, and it doesn’t make sense.

“Figuring it all  out” when it comes to how God interacts with humankind is just another type of pride masquerading around as Biblical integrity.   I had stated, several times this phrase:

“Yeah, but what about all those women who lived liked one hundred years ago before anti-depressants, or all those third-world people.  If God uses modern medicine, and it is the only way to cope, then they just get screwed over”?

Seriously, I used this one, like all the time.

The problem with this kind of thinking is that my focus has completely shifted from a personal God who deals individually with His child, according to where His child is, as He has allowed. Grandiose statements about pioneer women of yesteryear or women in Cambodia are smoke and mirrors:

A delusion to convince ourselves that we are so righteous, when confronted with the plight of other suffering woman, so bothered in our tender compassionate spirit that we cannot, like some kind of self-imposed Gandhi, partake of any modern alleviation.

As an added bonus you sound really spiritual and, and I should mention, never has anyone ever been able to counter such an argument to me.

What would you say, mature blogging believer, should someone present such a question to you?

But it didn’t help my children, my husband, the spirit of our home, the guilt.

So, I had to to get over myself and shut my complaining mouth when my picture perfect ideas did not happen. Ideas conscious or unconscious.  The Holy Spirit, by the way, is the only One {if you are not in counseling or have an extremely close honest mate and/or friend}, who can bring to light those unconscious motivations or defaults.

Presently Minded Gratitude was the spear to self.

I had to swallow my self-drummed up cock-eye theology about how medicine that can recalibrate pulses, chemicals, and reactions in the brain is wrong, even though no one excect for those Christian Science people, would ever consider high blood medicine, insulin, or sleep aids as worldly wisdom.

My “slow to comprehend, slow to react” to my struggle with depression was, despite all the spiritual religious talk and genuine beliefs, still about me.

I never, ever was abandoned for my thick headed-ness though.

Not by my husband, not by God, or the comfort of Christ, or the gentle nudges of the Spirit.


let's do this


2 thoughts on “Slices Abroad{a series about my getting over myself} part 3

  1. Boy. This really has me thinking. What did folks do before modern medicine? They probably suffered a lot more than we do. Pretty sure there were a lot more suicides too. Hmmm. Thanks for sharing your story Leah!


  2. Micey,
    You know what, I don’t agree. {respectfully of course dear bloglandia friend} Depression is more of a modern phenomenon…and as far as American stats go, there are more suicides now (at least among the young} and you actually don’t see it as much in 3rd world countries despite how hideous it is. That’s the whole point: God meets us where we are, because we are, where we are, because that is His will. If I was a British woman during the time when the pagan Saxtons were taking over Britain in the 400s A.D. then the same God who is was there for this 21st century depressed American housewife would be just as real and available…{sorry we are study this in homeschooling, and its late, and I have had too much white wine…I always pontificate when I drink too much} but you get the gist right? It is not circumstance or age or nationality or personality…one God, one Source…all grace…


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