I had a lovely missive planned for my kin folk this evening. Alas, I am not in the mood to be serious; not in the mood to do anything but sit here, relax and get with Jesus-right next to the “that’s one PINK tree,” and my favorite partners in crime. My man. My dog. Jesus.
A Holy Trinity of sorts.
After a sermon that spoke to me this morning, I have decided to give myself more credit, not punish myself so much-it leads me to wonder where the insecurity is coming from; and then the Holy Spirit stops me, dead in my tracks.
The fall. I had recently been traumatized by a fall I took on our outdoor, concrete steps. I had been trying to multi-task, never, ever a good idea for this girl 😦 Holding my drink in one hand, my purse in the other-I grabbed random dog toys, you know, so I wouldn’t have to COME OUTSIDE AGAIN!!!!! Why? Why do we do it to ourselves, ladies? Then, when it came time to fall, I had no hands-so your basic head to concrete contact. I went in to shock almost immediately-and for the first few days, when the fall came to mind? I moaned, this deep and guttural, “Unnnnnnh.” I didn’t give my CPTSD a thought and here’s the thing: I never do.
My soul is screaming for peace, yet I’ve been an anxious mess-a withered nub of nothing, praying to Abba for answers-my heart beating out of my chest, searching in the darkness for a tiny crack of light.
I found the spirit of Christmas beginning to grow last evening, after Dwain’s family’s get together. Holidays are a trigger for me, so I should have been watching for signs. Why do I not think this fall a trauma befitting of a PTSD relapse? I lay on the couch for two days, knowing what I know about brain bleeds and falls, due to my medical background. The pain was like none other, and the concussion brought on mood swings, crying jags and extreme stupidity.
Two weeks later, I am healing. Much to my horror, I fell again today, whilst in the woods with my men, hunting antler sheds. I did the old drop and roll, and found it most helpful having my hands free. I am becoming a semi-professional stunt girl.
So, I was speaking of the light, and how it enters through the cracks of your broken places. That light is Jesus, and He is begging us to come to Him, He longs for our hearts. He came to take away the sins of the world, so that we could come to a place of trust and love in our relationship with God. He came for the least of these, and to be frank? I often wonder if those of us with diagnoses of anxiety and depression, CPTSD, and other panic disorders fall into this category.
The answer is both yes, and no.
We are not our brain psyche. We are more than people who have trouble functioning with day to day stressors and life experiences. We have a choice-we can allow our disabilities to define us, or we can live our lives not as victims-but as survivors!
There is freedom in Christ!
Educate yourself on your illness. Know your triggers and warning signs and try to avoid them if possible. Be your own best friend-pamper and care for yourself. Eat that cheese soufflé, buy the expensive wine-and most importantly-reach out for help if you need it. It’s important to have a strong support system: I can finally say I am blessed beyond measure in that department.
I feel like a kid at Christmas, and if you think about it, I kind of am.
Be blessed this holiday season. Take your wounds to Jesus-and He will shine the light like no other-no matter the darkness.
Darkness to Light.