PPD and Spiritual Warfare

So, along time ago, Tara and I were writing a book on PPD (PostPartum Depression) for Christian women. We both abandoned this project (and I saw books on the subject available at Lifeway this week, so YAY), but I have this notebook of writing for my chapter on using Spiritual Warfare in the battle against depression.  Rather than let it lie, I am going to type it up in sections as blog posts here.  Because it is a chapter that would have fallen in the middle of a book, there may be some references and such that do no translate to blogging very well.  But, here goes...

Part 1

As we mentioned earlier, the battle against PPD is a war on three fronts. Drugs, by themselves, aren't likely to cure you. Rather, they should be a tool to boost your energy and motivation so that you can put on the rest of your armor and fight. The second tool, counseling, is an extremely powerful weapon. If you choose a good counselor, they will not only help you fight the mental/emotional battle but also equip you for the third front - Spiritual Warfare.

Before you close this book or skip this chapter, allow me to explain. I know, in the throes of depression, I got sick of hearing self-righteous Christians explaining that depression is a sign of sin in your life or proof that you aren't praying enough. I promise, that is not the basis of this chapter.

The fact is, the chemical and emotional sides of depression weaken your defenses. While you are distracted by your dark thoughts and personal fears, Satan sees his chance. Remember, the enemy is a "prowling lion, seeking to steal, kill and destroy." (1 Peter 5:8)  During a depressive episode, you're tired and weak. I'm not telling you your depression is an attack by Satan, only that it is an open window for his flaming arrows.

Heather

Friday Felicities - 2/5/10

Join us by visiting Becky's blog.

 

Friday Felicities

Opening my new-to-me phone

reading a Nicole Seitz novel

Getting the new Sarah Addison Allen novel before it is published

Having a phone after a week without

Tuesday's poetry party on Twitter

My kids' dance performances yesterday

People saying nice things about my Mom

Gift cards

Falling in love with a house

Sorting yard sale stuff at church

The prayer room

Beth Moore

Acts

Heather

Poetry Party

I had a new (fun) experience this week.  I joined in a "poetry party" on Twitter. If you tweet, search for the hashtag #tsp and you will find all of it and more information as well.  I am going to copy and paste my entries here, b/c I may turn a few into completed poems.  :)

theres a poem in my closet/somewhere between the jeans I wear most often/and the skirts I plan to wear/when I buy them and imagine/the swish swish swish/against my legs

there are poems in my house/under blankets/behind chairs/on the plates i use for dinner/and the clothes my husband wears.

She plucked flowers from my heart. I did not know that they were there.

Some mornings, I am mist. I hang. You may float and fly and dream. But, I hang, hover, wander. I stay alone.

Thighs carry secrets/support their weight/below the heart and stomach/holding up desire/above their flesh

desire to couple can sometimes make one single - make one solitary - even in that moment/ when two come together

whisper when you tell me no, Lord. Please whisper when you tell me no. 

Last night, i dreamed of secret weights/ held back just barely from crushing/kept just slightly from rushing/ to your arms

words won't heal him. they don't help him. i am powerless beside him. she keeps right on hurting him. words hurt him, so why if words can hurt so hard so bad so true, why can't they save him too?

give me your words. mine are finished. i laid them all out there for her to see and she still left me

I climbed upon the camel's back, danced upon the elephant, touched noses with giraffe.

Polished ruby red and cut/prettier than white diamond/bloodier than who you think i am

afterglow/quiver/thighs ache/love rests/room is dark and peace/descends

perelandra/where God could start again/with a new Eve/a day with no/mistakes 

camel hair is rough/so clothe me instead/in rabbit fur/and sheep's wool/and cashmere sweaters/you paid too much/money for

hippopotamus 


why is it a witch's circle? Why can't I dance in the moonlight? Worship my God? Bow to the feminine, He made inside of me?                

We meet in rough collision/still/8 years past when they/think we should have broken/instead we grasp hard/at one another/and thrill to touch

i knew about the cashmere/because i brushed your arm in the subway/stopped and wished you'd stop/to embrace a lonely nothing

My skin is cashmere/when he touches it

moi? soft and yielding? moi? no, you do not know... me

porridge and broken rocking chairs/litter my childhood/a strange mix of too big/too small/just right/just me

I do not shrink, any longer, when you touch me. I came alive/some time ago. I dance closer to you now.

I rolled my eyes at Starbucks customers/trying to order nonexistent drinks/from my espresso bar/in Mississippi/You cannot freeze cappuccino/so there is no frappuccino/just ice and coffee and milk/like a shake/you gave a fancy name

digestion suffers/when speed eating/speed reading/not taking time/for myself  

how dare my parenting be judged/because i choose slow/i choose not so busy/as this world wants us to be

I felt yellow discomfort/like a wet bed/in the middle of the night/when she said those things/to me

Now I feel slightly green anticipation/fresh events/when he walks through/that door

broken phones/communication unsteady/trashed pieces/of conversation

i think the angels are pink on the inside of their robes

served real espresso to snotty teen girls who were used to gas station cappuccinos. Laughed.

painting the roses red/painting the roses red/turn the brush upon myself/i may just lose my head

what does blue flannel/know of passion/it knows of comfort/and day-to-day/life

I discard the stones/then chase after them/scattered by my thoughtless hands/your heart there/broken

my blue flannel is stripped away/revealing pink silk/be gentle/in the night

saw the house/thought of my family/in the house/felt like it could be/a home

starving invisible children/are shriveled with swollen/bellies

Dog dances/excitement/thinks my husband's meal/is made for him

I am here/in my rented living room/with my orange shirted husband/and the TV playing/in the background

spoil all my meals/by eating while i read/unable to separate/the filling of my belly from/the filling of my mind

i want to stop in the street/and write you poetry/read my words while you swerve your car/and hear me

crime shows on TV/where I learn about people who almost/got away with things/I cannot imagine/horror

cannot believe/so much time can pass/so fast/when I am spewing words/that build up so long/they cannot be/contained

I am a desert creature. I am existing with less water than I need. I am barely/existing.

Please, take my words. Make me beautiful/by reading them.

half past nine/in Mississippi/where Elvis still sings/my children to sleep

4 minutes left/in ecstatic spewing/of word fountain

thank you all/for having me/and not eating me/alive

popcorn words/snap/jump/shock/leap/last/lick/butter/slick

slow slow slow drip/keeps one awake

I bet a few of these, reworked to fix syllables, can be haiku.  Others, I can flesh out and find substance.

Heather                         

        

Confession

I have a confession....

I WANT to do more mission work, but I am seldom good at it. 

*hangs head*

I am fickle in my time management.  I have good intentions.  I make great plans.  I am terrible at the follow-thru.  Don't take this opportunity to tell me how much good I do or what a great person I am.  This post is not bait for compliments.  I know there are things I do.  I could list them.  Instead, today, I am going to list some of my failures for you.

Parkgate.  I went through most of my training at the start of 2009, so I could counsel and volunteer at Parkgate Pregnancy Clinic. Then, summer hit and I had no childcare, so I put off the rest of it until fall.  Well, Spring shimmers on the horizon and I still have not gone back more than once.  ((Nancy, can I come back?))

Helping Hands.  I asked Bonnie, from church, if there was anything I could do at Helping Hands while my kids are in school.  She told me how a group of women go there on Tues and Thurs mornings to sort clothes and organized things.  I went once.  I loved it.  Why haven't I been back?

I want to go on an international mission trip.  I know this will require a passport.  My passport expired 2 years ago.  Have I renewed it?  Nope.

I have been thinking about confession.  Raigan used an excerpt from Blue like Jazz Sunday... the scene with the confessional booth at Ren Fair.  It is a wonderful story that Donald Miller shares about Christians confessing to the world that we don't get it right.  We mess it up.  Please don't judge Jesus by my behavior because I am so far from perfect it isn't even funny.

I'm sorry.  I love Jesus with all of my heart.  But, if I am honest, all of my heart is really about 99% of my heart... On a good day.   I see Jesus in everyone around me... when that is convenient for me. 

I fail.

He loves me anyway.  I get to try again.  What an amazing grace.

Heather

Friday Felcities - 1/29/10

Welcome to Friday Felicities in memory of Natalie York, hosted by Becky.

Friday Felicities

Sparkly Toms

Labyrinths of all shapes and sizes

$1 sale at Resale Therapy

Giving gifts

Sending birthday cards

Breve steamers with vanilla and honey

Heather

Currently: Birthweek Edition

Current Books:  I am almost finished reading Outlander and will then start Thin Places. I am also working through Power of a Praying Parent, God Whispers and The Way of the Mystics. Welcome to my current unfocused state of bookdom.  It has been like this since Andi's car accident.  My mind, which is ADHD anyhow, has opted to jet from one literary interest to another and I cannot seem to hang on.

Current Playlist: Holly just introduced me to the music of Lucy Kaplansky.  And I am loving a particular song by The Embrace (Where do you hide your wings, when you're down here with me...). I really want Rihanna's newest album, Rated R. 

Current Shame-Inducing Guilty Pleasure: Gilmore Girls marathons. 

Current Color: Metallics

Current Fetish: Shoes.  Loving me some fab shoes lately.  I blame Aimee.

Current Food: Have been liking burgers lately.  Had my first 5 Guys burger earlier this month.  YUM!

Current Drink:  I am trying to drink more water.

Current Favorite Favorite: Celebrating my birthday.

Current Wishlist: Umm... cute rainboots and a flash drive that hooks on my keychain.

Current Needs: To pay off my dental bill and then have more dental work done. There has been a lot of thinking God for my dentist lately.  And his beautiful wife, of course, b/c what is a man without his wife to support him.  ;)

Current Triumph: A couple of new publications.  WOOT!

Current Bane-of-my-Existence: A couple of minor illnesses that have slowed me down.

Current Celebrity Crush: Milo.

Current Indulgence: Consignment shopping.

Current Mood: Happy.

Current #1 Blessing: My husband.  I love Corey more and more every year we are together.

Current Slang or Saying: Ai yi yi!

Current Outfit: Pinkish colored Ann Taylor long-sleeve tee, black jeans, grey sweater.

Current Links: Poetry Foundation is awesome. The Roller Babies.

Typing to Type

I have a bladder infection. I cannot tell you how fun THAT is. My throat also is sore again. Luckily, my last round of anti-biotics came with refills. So I am at least taking meds. My birthday is Weds. I'd prefer not to be miserable then. Ai yi yi! I was awake all night.  Corey took the kids to school today and picked them up.  I love that man.

I did a couple of productive things today.  I began brainstorming and sketching lines for a poem I was asked to write for a special event.  The subject matter is near to my heart and recalls a lot of memories.  I also picked up my meds at Walgreens and did a small grocery run.  And I fed my children dinner, of course.  LOL!  Now it is bed time.  For them and me, probably.  I pray I can sleep tonight.  Last night was awful.

Nothing else overly exciting going on.  I need to start the DNow slideshow and work on Sunday's media.  Andi continues to make baby steps of progress, and I miss Sherry like mad.  I didn't realize how much a part of my life she had become until this all happened and she is in Jackson 24/7.  What I am looking forward to most this week is Saturday.  Leila and Cat are driving up.  I miss them.  In the morning, our small group is discussing John Dunne and the Metaphysical poets of England.  Oh, and last week Sheena took me with her to the Poetry Out Loud event at Tupelo High.  It rocked. It made me crave a real poetry reading.  I have never done one, and I so want to.

I finished Season 3 of Gilmore Girls.  I was so sad to see Jess go.  What a beautiful young man.  Though, it is probably his personality and physical resemblance to my own first love at age 16 that made me like him so much.  Can't wait to see what's next for Rory and Loralei.  No spoilers, please.  :)

I am pretty much just typing to type right now.  So I guess I will wrap this up.

Heather