Thursday, March 18, 2010

This post will kind of ramble, so bear with me.

There are times when I feel like my life is falling for the last 2 years. I never had post-partum depression after the other kids that lasted for more than a couple of months, but this time around has been different.

I was on an anti-depressant for about 6 months after Nathaniel was born. My doctor suggested it due to the circumstances of his birth, a move the week before he was born, a tantruming 2-year-old, a husband who'd lost his job, and a couple of ebbing friendships. It was a good idea, but I didn't notice much of a difference, so I quit after giving it 6 months. It was one less thing I had to remember in an already hectic schedule of 4 little ones and a fast-failing homeschool attempt.

I have learned over this past 2 years something I hate to admit. I am a needy person. I don't like being around needy people. They suck the life out of you if you're around them too much, and I think that's what I did to a couple of friends that are no longer in my life.

I have been doing a lot of soul searching. I have a very understanding husband, and as he's seen me fall time and again in the last 2 years, he has been less critical and more encouraging. We used to have this constant daily tug-of-war that went on between us to the point where a marriage counselor asked us if we thought we'd married the wrong person.

We both immediately said "no," but we may have married to soon before some of our own growing up had happened. I truly believe God gave me my dear husband as the perfect person for me and I for him.

As he's seen me not be the strong confident woman who he'd dated in college, but a sniffelling, sleep-deprived, hormonal wreck of a mother who cries when he walks in the door, he's taken me in his arms and been my encourager. I've also learned to voice that I need him, really need him for who he is and what he brings to this family. Luke may not be Jesus, but he is my protector and providor here on this earth as well as my best friend.

My mother has encouraged me to get out in the morning and walk and get fresh air and try to get some time alone; to pray and cry out loud the Psalms for a timeand to hold onto Jesus. I know this, but it's a good gentle kick-in-the-pants to do it because I know she'll ask if I did.

This morning I set my alarm for 6am to do just that. Before it ever went off, i heard a little tot smacking his mattress and giggling in delight at the sound it gave back. I looked at the clock; 5:30am. So much for rising early before the kids this morning. I waited to see if he'd settle back down, but then he started hollering for me. Bleary-eyed I hauled him out of bed and off to the kitchen for his breakfast and hopefully at least a devotional for me.

What I read in my literal 3-5 minutes of quiet while he was busily tearing into his banana and donut was exactly what i needed.

"So once more I say, let us not expect defeat but victory. Let us take fast hold and keep fast hold of our sword, and we shall win in any assault of the enemy. The Lord quicken our expectation."

---Amy Carmichael

A little while later, I was able to get a moment to read my Bible and each verse I read spoke to that same thing. God will fight our fight if we but let Him...even the fight of depression.


Sun-Kissed Scholars said...

Hmmm...did my last comment go through...?

Soaring High said...

I didn't see any.