Tag: faith

An elephant in the house

Kathy S. ParishLeave a comment

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There’s an elephant in this house. It (I will not dignify it with gender!) is huge, gray, and impervious to all my efforts to show it the door. It took up residence ten years ago, but we, through the grace of God and expert medical help, were able to relegate it to the attic, where it slept and, unfortunately, appears to have gathered strength, for its next foray into our world. And, crash back in, irrespective of the hearts and minds and emotions it was devastating, it did, and took up residence, which I do hope and pray is temporary.

That elephant, you see, is depression, and a stronger, more persistent interloper is hard to find. It took up residence with a dearly beloved child. But never think that depression is a respecter of persons. Once it enters the house, its presence is felt by all. Each individual experiences it uniquely, but no one is unscathed. There is no swifter road to a personal battle with depression than seeing one’s child sucked into the dark void of its depths. There is no more certain road to a personal experience with depression than grieving over a child’s helplessness and hopelessness and, again unfortunately, observing that child’s sometimes tragic efforts to escape from its pit of darkness.

The other salient point to recognize about depression is its cloak of invisibility. Everyone knows the elephant is in the house, sitting or standing in the corner, rather lonely in its isolation. Because, though everyone is thinking about it, feeling it, hating it, no one is talking about it!! There seems to be an inherent human tendency to believe that, if it’s ignored long enough, it will just go away. WRONG!! The only way to weaken, and ultimately defeat, the elephant, is to acknowledge its presence. That which we fear can defeat us. Envision the big gray elephant as simply a bully who needs only to be confronted to be defeated.

The psalmist gives life to depression’s form and substance in Psalm 77:1-2:

“I cried out to God for help;
I cried out to God to hear me.
When I was in distress, I sought the
Lord;
at night I stretched out untiring
hands
and my soul refused to be
comforted.”

Yet the writer of Lamentations (?the prophet Jeremiah) speaks a message of hope in chapter 22, verses 22 through 24:

“Because of the Lord’s great love we
are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, ‘The Lord is my
portion;
therefore I will wait for him.'”

It is my experience that the only way to deal with the elephant is through faith. It is only through the grace of God that we can push that big gray elephant back into the attic (or basement or cellar or wherever we can relegate it to). But when faith falters, and the elephant is treading roughshod on the hopes and dreams of a loved one (or our own hopes and dreams), what are we to do? My top ten strategies:

1. Pray.
2. Enlist other prayer warriors.
3. Demonstrate unconditional love to the elephant’s prey (so, if you are the prey, that means loving oneself unconditionally!).
4. Maintain as much normalcy as possible.
5. Talk about the elephant. Recognize its presence, the reality of its influence, and don’t be afraid to call it by its real name.
6. Pray some more.
7. Share your hurts, worries, and fears with trusted family and friends.
8. Read the Bible–it is rich in messages of comfort.
9. Do whatever you do to escape from the elephant’s attack–read, write, cook, sew, train for a marathon, go dancing–you fill in the blank. (Guess which one I chose!)
10. Pray without ceasing.

Please don’t leave with the impression that I am writing as an expert. This is not an instructional piece, but more of a catharsis for me. I am tired of the elephant cohabiting with my family. I am ready for it to leave. And I am going to do all of the above (and anything else I can think of) to relegate it to the far corner of our world with the stated intent that it should, “Go away, you big bully, and don’t you ever, ever come back!” I hope and pray it works this time.

I am the pencil?

Kathy S. Parish1 Comment

“I am like a little pencil in God’s hand. He does the writing. The pencil has nothing to do with it.” Mother Teresa

Many times in my life I have been keenly aware of God’s direction–the rather remarkable circumstances through which I entered nursing school (and my profession/life of the past 36 years), the miraculous discovery of the one physician who could salvage my daughter’s life, the indelible influence that my Christian collaborating physician and his beautiful wife have had on my life, and a text message a short while ago from my granddaughter, a beautiful, intelligent young woman of whom I am very proud. She wrote that she has been working on a blog for some time now, but has been timid about sharing the link with anyone. Guess what, dear–your Nana has heretofore been very selective in sharing her link, too! As a matter of fact, my first post pretty much details my ugly fears and uncertainties. I was rather depressed for about a week prior to clicking “Publish”, but, surprise! I have been inordinately happy since doing it. My mind is full of ideas, phrases, analogies–all just struggling to make it to the printed page. And, I am happy. Don’t take that the wrong way. It’s not that I feel important or particularly gifted. I know my blog is not literary genius or food for the intellectual. But it is my soapbox, my stage, and, if any readers show up, my audience.

You see, it is easy to feel that one has little of importance to say. But, perhaps, in God’s eyes, the least of these thoughts timidly recorded is a very big deal. I have often pondered Mother Teresa’s words quoted above. I don’t think the pencil analogy has to do with just words, although words are very important. As a nurse, I think of the words and phrases that evoke such vivid images to us and capture so succinctly the patient situation we are describing. We say, “just fan him with a big white hat,” to mean that there is nothing specific we can do to help that particular complaint, but that the white hat, representative of the good cowboy saving the day, might somehow send good karma his way. Or what about the phrase “she’s crashing and burning”, which inspires in our gut the same adrenalin rush that seeing a plane’s fiery demise might? Although it has fallen out of favor, in my young nurse days the words “he’s low sick” described a patient in the valley of illness with multiple issues and declining vital signs and a grim prognosis. Today “she’s a hot mess” might be heard in the clinical setting to describe the same patient. For me that phrase brings to mind a steaming hot pile of whatever turns you off–a big mess that has to be cleaned up, and the cleaning made all the more difficult because it is, indeed, hot! The patient that breathes the thought, “I want to go home,” and you know he’s talking about a better home than his home here on earth, can inspire a particularly keen watchful wait in the nurse. And then, there is the all-important “just tie a knot and hang on”, because even when the rope is slipping through your hands and you are about to fall to your fate, the proverbial knot will give you a handhold to cling to.

Words do indeed speak volumes and are tremendously important, especially to a writer, but actions are important, too. Sometimes the action of clicking “Publish” is more important than we know. For too long I have been afraid of failure. Mother Teresa also said, “God didn’t call us to be successful, just faithful.” If I am, indeed, His pencil, every word typed and published is His to use as He chooses. Perhaps those words might offer inspiration, encouragement, or comfort. It is my job to trust and just do it. What about you? Are you His pencil? How are you fulfilling that challenge? I hope with confidence and with the best effort that is in you.

And that you, dear, dear granddaughter, will go forth boldly to share your knowledge, creativity, sensitivity–so many gifts in one beautiful package! Go ahead, sweetie, blog and broadcast it to the world!