After much hard work, I am learning to embrace my diagnosis as a gift; but that wasn’t always the case.
“I can do all things through Christ Who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:13
I don’t think this verse is our promise from God that we can do anything we put our minds to. I think it is actually a verse of comfort from a guy who wrote it while chained in prison, encouraging the rest of us who are stuck in dire circumstances to keep trusting. I think this verse actually drives home the very crux of the Gospel of Grace: we can face all sorts of things and persevere through them, as long as we keep trusting in a faithful, changeless God.
TRIGGER WARNING: Childhood sexual abuseI have never in my life wanted to die so badly.As I heard him pull in the driveway I froze in fear, shame, and guilt. “Get up, act busy, wipe your face girl!” I tried to tell myself. But, I just laid there frozen. I listened in horror as he gently […]
I am a suicide survivor. This is my story.Suicide SurvivorIt was late September, 2012. My eyes squinted shut as the nurse wheeled me out the front doors of the psych ward and helped me into the car. This was the first time I’d seen the sun in more than a week.”Good luck, Mr. Austin. Take […]
How to Help Pastors Who Feel SuicidalDon’t think it’s possible that a pastor could be suicidal?I was a pastor when I nearly died by suicide on September 21, 2012.The truth is, I’m not alone. Each day around the world, approximately 2,000 people believe they have reached the end of their rope, and die by suicide. […]
How do you find God in the dark? It’s a question I’ve been asked countless times, since I published From Pastor to a Psych Ward. I was recently interviewed by Will Maule, Editor of HelloChristian. If you haven’t checked out their site before, you’re missing out! In our interview, Will asked me a similar question, and my answer may not be what you expect.
I will never forget how cold the tile floor was on that hot September afternoon, as I slid down the wall of ICU room number six.
The statement that made my knees buckle, as I stood at the end of that hospital bed, was, “No, I did not mix up my medicine. I wanted to die. I do not want to be here any more.”
My clearest thought was how I was not enough. But if not me, how was our beautiful baby boy not enough to make my husband want to stay? I wondered how I could possibly face family and friends at our son’s first birthday party the next day, alone. I wondered if I would spend the rest of my life the very same way.