Category: spiritual lessons

Upgrading to Joy

by Julie Anne Fidler, BB Weekly Contributor

I don’t know about you, but when I’m feeling ill – particularly with depression – I don’t want to do anything. Getting out of bed is a chore, tackling business or housework is excruciating, and when it’s all over we are twice as exhausted as we were when we started. Church seems out of the question. Reading the Bible seems impossible. Joy is a far-away star hurtling through the cosmos that you can’t grasp and reign in. Your world shuts down and you have no desire to grant access to anyone or anything. Sadness is a great isolator.

One of my favorite websites is www.dictionary.com (a writer’s best friend!) It defines joy as “the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying.” The primary words here are “caused by.”  We don’t always feel joy. Heck, nobody does. But if you battle mental illness, that statement is especially true. Satan comes to steal, kill, and destroy and he uses our brain chemistry to do so. He’s so, so good at stealing our joy. But knowing that joy is caused by something should give us a lot of hope!

Maybe the Enemy can snatch our joy, but we can snatch it back. How do we do that? We decide to go against our feelings of despair and exhaustion and pursue it. Job’s suffering makes ours seem almost laughable by comparison and yet even he was able to find the cause of joy and run to it.

“let their flesh be renewed like a child’s;
   let them be restored as in the days of their youth’—
26 then that person can pray to God and find favor with him,
   they will see God’s face and shout for joy;
   he will restore them to full well-being.
27 And they will go to others and say,
   ‘I have sinned, I have perverted what is right,
   but I did not get what I deserved.”

-Job 33:25-27

Job, a man who lost everything and was abandoned by everyone he ever cared for, understood what unlocks joy, and that was God himself.  Jesus, of course, understood the same concept.

“Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete.” –John 16:24

 

During a very dark period in my life, I started visiting my current church with friends who were already members there. My church is a rather Pentecostal church (no snake-handling or anything crazy like that, I promise) and at the time I was visiting, I was a member of a much more subdued church. I was in so much emotional pain that I opted out of worship altogether. I sat in my seat and cried as others raised their hands and shouted praise and I wondered how they could be so happy when we live in a world that is so cold.

But a funny thing happened as I sat there in tears – the little layer of ice around my heart began to melt. I wasn’t on my feet dancing, but I felt warm peace seep into the frigid hopelessness. I had found a tiny bit of joy, CAUSED by getting out of bed, getting dressed, and sitting in that church pew.

Say the word “joy” and two different pictures come to mind. In the first image, I see someone jumping up and down, pumping their fist in the air, shouting praise to God. In the second image, I see someone quiet and reserved, eyes closed, a tiny, peaceful smile on their lips. I believe that both of these images apply to us. Sometimes joy is all-consuming and we can’t help but shout. Other times, joy is a quiet whisper of hope in our ear, a flicker of happiness that says “take heart, God loves you.”

And I am learning that if we have no joy, whether it’s because we’re suffering a rough bout with our disease or because life is just hard in general, it’s because we’re not close enough to the cause of joy. Often, our minds say there is no hope or joy in this world, so we have to make a decision – are we going to listen to our messed-up emotions, or live by fact, which translates into walking by faith? If we want joy, we have find it.

One of the associate pastors at my church once said something that stuck with me. He said, “I want to be under the spout where the stuff of Heaven comes out.” It may be a little bit cheesy but it’s true. Corporate worship, quiet time alone with God, reading the Word, private worship and surrounding ourselves with people who compliment and encourage our faith are all “the stuff of Heaven” that cause joy. We have to get to the spout.

If you feel the walls closing in around you today, deny your pain, get up, and go find joy.  The joy of the Lord is so powerful that a tiny drop is more than enough, I challenge you today to believe for an outpouring of it. Get up and get under that spout.

 *** 

Julie Anne Fidler is a contributing writer for Brokenbelievers.com.  She comes with a humble and understanding heart for those with a mental illness.  Her writing gift is valued greatly.  Look for her post weekly, on this blog.
She keeps a personal ministry blog at www.mymentalhealthday.blogspot.com.  Read more there.

Coffee, With a Shot of Truth

by Julie Anne Fidler, BB Weekly Contributor

I am sitting across from one of my best friends in a trendy little café, sipping coffee as we always do. We have been good friends for years; we can tell each other things. We can screw up and make amends. We know each other’s heart. We both love Jesus and came back to our faith after an extended period of wandering away. She is single and wants to be married. I am married and want to have children. There is a lot we can relate to, except for one issue.

My friend is depressed. I have never known her not to be. I’ve never known her to be suicidal, but she suffers from mild depression most of the time. It permeates her life and while she doesn’t see it as a nagging issue, I do. We have never had a conversation in which she does not bring it up. To her credit, she handles it well. In fact, I’d say she handles it better than I do a lot of the time. She is a social bug who constantly thrusts herself into activities, whereas I am more of an isolationist when I’m depressed.

No, the issue is not how she handles her depression. The issue is that she does not want to acknowledge her depression is an illness. She is stuck in the place I was in for so long – believing that if she could be a better person spiritually, she would not be depressed at all.  We’ve had “the talk” many times. I’ve told her about my own trials and tribulations and I’ve gone so far as to look up and explain the brain chemistry behind depression. She always insists she can handle it on her own.

It’s a free country and we can’t force anyone to take medication if they don’t want to. I would even go so far as to say that while I think my friend is suffering needlessly, the fact that she is able to “maintain” and lead a productive life shows that medication might not be a dire necessity. I’m hoping that one day she realizes that 25 mgs of something won’t make her any less of a person or any less of a Christian. But it’s not my place to force that pill down her throat.

When does mental illness go from being a nuisance to a life-snatcher?
Throughout my life, I have had my share of strongholds and I would even venture to call some of them addictions. At one point I realized that whenever I was depressed, stressed, or angry I would automatically reach for the wine bottle. 2 Peter 2:19 says, “…people are slaves to whatever has mastered them.” That single verse influenced me to change my behavior, and I believe it can be applied to mental illness, as well.

Jesus Christ came to free us of our sins, but also to free us from all the things this world uses to hold us back and keep us down.  That is the beauty of Christ – we don’t have to wait until eternity to reap the benefits of being Christians. Jesus came to give us life and life more abundantly. That abundant life is, however, a choice.

There are different severities of mental illness. Not everyone needs the same thing. I need insulin for my diabetes, but my husband doesn’t take anything at all. Some choose not to seek help for their problem and that is their prerogative, but when does it cross over into foolishness? When someone asks me how I knew it was time to get help and seek a mental health diagnosis, I tell them I knew it was time when my problems ruled my universe and I lost just about everything and everyone I had. I had become a slave to bipolar disorder, and it had mastered me.

I used to believe that mental illness was in no way a spiritual issue, but I’ve come to realize that it is very much a spiritual issue. God never promised that life would be easy for believers. Come to think of it, the Bible tells us the exact opposite.  But if you examine the Word of God, you will see that the Holy Spirit gives us gifts and abilities that enable to us to have inexplicable joy in the midst of painful circumstances. Are you facing your circumstances with a sense of hopelessness and despair? That’s not from the Lord.

Does your entire life feel hopeless? Do you despair when you should be having joy?  Take a look at 2 Peter 2:19.

“They promise them freedom, but they themselves are not free. They are slaves of things that will be destroyed. For people are slaves of anything that controls them.”

Are you a slave to hopelessness and despair?  Then maybe it’s time to reexamine your views on seeking help.

 *** 

 
Julie Anne Fidler is a contributing writer for Brokenbelievers.com.  She comes with a humble and understanding heart for those with a mental illness.  Her writing gift is valued greatly.  Look for her post weekly, on this blog.
She keeps a personal ministry blog at mymentalhealthday.blogspot.com.  Read more there.

Close Encounters of the God Kind

by Julie Anne Fidler, Contributor to BB

As odd as it may sound, being diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder was one of the highlights of my life. I got good and excited about it in the same way one might get good and excited about discovering they were pregnant. But at 24 years old, I had lost jobs, lost friends, my young marriage was on the brink of divorce, and my faith was in tatters. I sought help when there was nothing left to lose. A diagnosis meant that all the craziness in my life had a real name and that craziness could be treated.

With three suicide attempts and a history of poor decision-making under my belt, I believed that my main problem was a basic lack of faith. I spent a huge chunk of my life seeking spiritual guidance and counseling and always felt like if I could just “make a go” of my walk with God, all of my problems would subside. Except that I couldn’t make a go of it. My faith followed the same pattern as the rest of my life – for a few days or weeks I was on fire for the Lord, followed by a period of deep despair and doubt, eventually leading to apathy. I tried to be a good Christian girl but over and over again, the same pattern emerged.

Hoping and believing that treatment for my BP would help me get this part of my life on track, I eagerly told my friends, family, and other church members of the recent development. I was not surprised when my parents didn’t share my elation. They are from a different era. You simply didn’t discuss things like that. I was, however, hurt and angered to get the same reaction from other believers.

Yes, everyone meant well. They asked me if I was spending time in prayer, reading the Word faithfully, and fellowshipping and much as possible. Those are not at all bad or wrong questions to ask. They are the questions we are supposed to be asking our brothers and sisters in Christ on a regular basis, under the most normal circumstances. But with many of these people, their tone and incessant questioning made it clear that they didn’t believe in mental illness, only spiritual deficit. A few even came right out and said so.

While my quality time with Jesus improved and deepened, I began to find myself consistently held back by one thing: anger. I was angry at the church. I was angry that people accepted that I needed insulin for my diabetes, but they didn’t want to accept that I needed medication for BP. I found myself backing away from these people and for a time I even stopped attending church. I even shut out the people who had been understanding and supportive, fearing they were only telling me what I wanted to hear. When people offered to pray that God would release me from the grip of my illness, I became offended. I wanted these people to understand that I had not erected some sort of spiritual wall that kept me locked into depression or mania.

Months went by before I returned to church. I only went because my niece was with me and I wanted to be a pseudo-role model to her. The sermon that morning was about healing, and though I can’t recall all the details of what Pastor Barry said, I can tell you the message I heard loud and clear: I HAD, indeed, erected a spiritual wall between God and I.

In my anger and defensiveness, I’d pushed aside the omnipotence of God. I had forgotten that He is still holy, that He is still in control, that He is still the great physician. I had placed all of my faith in the medications I took every day, and in the human physicians who prescribed them to me. If God had healed a blind man right in front of me, I would have missed it because I was too angry to stop and watch Him work. I also began to realize that if God can reach out and heal it, then it must be a spiritual issue. Isn’t everything? I wanted acceptance and understanding for my condition, but I became a Pharisee in the process, dismissing the faith of others who believed that by merely touching the hem of Jesus’ robe, healing was possible.

There is no doubt that the church needs to be educated on mental illness. There is no doubt that mental illness (I believe “brain illness” is a more accurate term) exists and is a true, medical condition. There is also no doubt that the Enemy is using mental illness to divide and conquer, and shred the hopes of people like me, who just want to be as normal a person as possible. Once the fog of my anger cleared, God showed me that I was to be a part of the solution to this… but it could never happen until I was willing to be sympathetic towards those who don’t understand, instead of bitter.

If you’re reading this, you’re a part of the grand plan, too. It’s a tough road, but you should feel honored. There is nothing more satisfying or powerful than turning one of Satan’s own weapons against him.

Julie Anne Fidler is now a contributing writer for Brokenbelievers.com.  She comes with a humble and understanding heart for those with a mental illness.  Her writing gift is valued greatly.  Look for her post weekly, on this blog.

She keeps a personal ministry blog at mymentalhealthday.blogspot.com.  Read more there.

Thirty Thousand Hits!

I can hardly believe it, we’ve had 30,ooo distinct hits in about 15 months.  I’m ecstatic that we have been there for so many seekers.  Thanks for supporting this work, the Lord is using you. But I encourage you to pray, that this would be a work of the Holy Spirit, otherwise, in my mind we should shut it all down, and move on.  I want to please Him who gave everything up for me.  I believe that is what you want as well!