When A Friend Needs To Talk

I have a very dear friend from grade school.  We reconnected through facebook a few years ago.  It's been wonderful for both of us.  We walked down memory lane and then we started sharing our childhoods.  We discovered a lot of similarities.

She lives one state over.  While we seldom talk on the phone, we are pro's at using the chat feature on facebook.  She's a high school English teacher.  We are both introverts by nature and love to read.  It seems talking through writing is our best form of communication.  It allows each of us to go as deep as we want to.  Other times, it allows the deep stuff out when we least expect it.

That was the case this week.  We hadn't talked much so a quality conversation was looming in the air.  Once we filled each other in with small talk, my friend made a comment.  I heard the frustration in her words.  Then I wrote, "Okay, care to dump?"

Those four words lead to a very deep revealing, layer by layer, about what she was struggling with.  I continued asking her leading questions so that I could gain a better understanding of what was really wrong.  Sometimes people have layers upon layers of things on top of the actual issue.  Giving your friend your time and your full attention helps them feel safe to continue removing those layers.

At one point she asked me a question.  I answered it and then she got mad.  I knew she wasn't mad at me. She was mad because the answer did not fit the answer she wanted to hear.  Then she asked another question.  I had no answer for that one.  Then I sensed these questions weren't what she really wanted answered.  She was getting closer to the real question so I asked her this:  "What do you really want to ask?"

It took her a little bit to answer it but finally she found it.  The questions she was asking were about God.  The only answers I could give her were what I read in the Bible and my personal experience.  Being a Christian for 26 years and reading the Bible regularly gave me a lot of confidence in the response.  Knowing her and being her friend, I was able to lovingly confront some of the lies she was believing.  In other words, I was able to tell the truth and be like Jesus and love her back to her loving God who had all her concerns under control.

That's where she needed to be.  She didn't need to be connected to me.  She needed to be connected to Him.  It's my responsibility as her friend to bring her back to the one who adores her and created her and has a plan and purpose for her life.  That's what God wants me to do.   And because I love my friend, I do it without hesitation.

On facebook she wrote...Wanna thank a great friend last night for reminding me of God's love and that He basically has things covered....You're always there for me Amy...

On facebook I wrote back...All of us need to be mirrors of God's love for our brothers and sisters in Christ on a regular basis. Satan likes to pull our faith down into the sludge and keep us there so we believe God left us and doesn't care about our circumstances. That's a lie. God pulls us up out of the sludge and gives us a holy bath, reminding us that His love never leaves us. He is watching over everything that concerns us especially when we think He's abandoned us. Patience, trust and more patience. God is always on your side even if things do not go your way. Remember, He has your whole life in front of Him. We have only today.  Yes, Kim, I'm always here for you.

Be Jesus with eyes and ears that listen, a heart that loves, a mouth that speaks gentle truth and arms that hug.

Pulling Fear Apart

I'm beginning to see fear as something you can pull apart.

Faith (my therapist) taught me how to do this today.  She asked about the fear then kept going with a similar question until I was able to get down to a childhood memory that was feeding one of the fears I have.

For example.  When I was young my dad taught me how to fish.  He taught me how to hook the night crawler, set my line and eventually how to put the right weights, bobber and hook on my line. We fished at a couple different spots.  He'd catch a large mouth bass.  I'd catch a small mouth bass.  I'd watch how he'd move his line in the water, especially how he'd cast it.  He always told me not to make a splash when casting.

When Faith asked about the fear I had about going outside, I mentioned the fear of going fishing at my favorite solitude spot.  She zeroed in on that and this is what I told her:

"When I was probably 10-11 years old, my dad used to go fishing in the channel which was a small part of the Fox River in our village.  I remember one time he caught a catfish and said, "Amy, this is what you do when you catch a catfish."  He put the catfish against a tree, knifed it into the tree BY THE HEAD so it stayed there, then he must have had another knife because he pulled the skin off from the top down in one even movement.  All I remember is a naked fish and the knife he put through it."

The hard part was the violence I saw.  I have a very tender spot for animals.  My dad used to throw his shoes at my cats and it made me so angry.  To see him do this to a catfish was disturbing.  Even though he ate the catfish, the fact that the fish had the word "cat" in it was hard for me.

Pulling the fear apart revealed many things:

1. When I go fishing, I can purchase the right tool to remove a hook if it's too far down the fish's throat.
2. Since I already practice CPR (Catch, Picture, Release), I'm not doing any harm.
3. If I do catch a catfish, there's nothing to be afraid of.  I can purchase gloves to protect myself and I can ask God to help me get it off my line safely.
4. Nothing says I have to use a hook.  If I'm not ready, don't use one.
5. When I'm ready, be responsible and purchase a license.  I do this anyway but it's still good to write it down.

It was a very good day and the right day to pack my fishing gear and go to the forest preserve.  There was no need to wait.  I think if I would have waited my head would have replayed the therapy session and negated all the positive messages I absorbed.  It could have been a deterrent and fed the monster called fear.  

Pulling fear apart takes courage to talk about stuff even if you think you sound silly.  I mean, who would have thought the catfish story with my dad was preventing me from going to my favorite solitude spot and fishing?  Not me.

If you don't have a therapist and you live in Lake County, please give Faith Gallup a call.  Her information is on the right hand side.  

Why Jesus?

With a background of neglect, abuse, self-injury, addiction, sexual identity issues and mental illness, what did I ever think Jesus could do for me?  From what I learned in Sunday School when I was in grade school and junior high, he only helped those who didn't have as bad of problems as I had.  He was a spirit that floated around the earth giving blessings to those he liked.

I was never on his radar because nothing in my life ever got better.  I believed I had done something very wrong as a little girl and I was being punished for it.  I could not remember what I had done.  I kept thinking and thinking trying to make my mind remember but I never could.  I decided it must have been awfully bad because no matter how hard I tried, my mind was blank.

I learned about God in Sunday School when I was in Grade School.  The adults said he loved me and nothing I did could ever stop that love.  That sounded nice but I knew something they didn't. I wasn't lovable.  I was used for a punching bag and stuff like that so they were talking about the other kids around the table.  You see, God never visited my home.  My home was a scary place to live.  There was yelling and screaming and hitting and hiding.  There was crying, too.  God visited the nice houses.  Mine was not a nice house.  I knew that and I accepted it.

When I was a teenager I ran away from home.  The adult I ran away to I trusted even though she scared me.  She had a friend come over to talk to me about Jesus.  Jesus was related to God - He was God's Son.  Jesus was someone I could have a personal relationship with if I accepted Him into my heart.  I smirked and said, "He doesn't want to live in my heart."  I knew my heart was bad.

A couple of years later (when I was fourteen) I got into recovery and I started seeing a counselor.  My recovery group had a Higher Power I could believe in and it could be God if I wanted it to be.  After awhile I decided to try it.  When I was seventeen, I borrowed some other peoples ways of relating to God.  Slowly, I started to feel that maybe a relationship was forming.  A few years rolled by and I was in the next phase of my recovery.  I was twenty years old when the God of twelve step groups started to be too small for me, I asked my mom about it.  She suggested I go to her church.  She said, "Amy, you can wear your jeans and no one will talk to you."  She knew exactly what to say.

I went to my first service in September 1987.  In December 1987 I heard the lyrics to the song Silent Night for the very first time.  I wept.  In March of 1988 I was rocked to my knees when I heard the message, "The Fear of Death."  The pastor said when I die it will be like a blink of an eye and I'll be standing before a Holy God.  I'll have no time to make a decision about where I'll spend my eternity.  If I were to die right now, where would I be?  I knew the answer and it wasn't heaven.

I went home, called my sponsor (who was a Christian) and told her about it.  When I asked her what to do she replied, "Amy, you know what to do."  "Yeah, I know."  I went into my bedroom, knelt beside my bed that had a blue comforter, closed my eyes, clasped my hands and asked Jesus to please forgive my sins and live in my heart.  I was crying.  I'll always remember that moment.

Three months later our church was having their baptism services.  They did this one weekend every June during our regular church services.  I did mine at the 11:15 Sunday service.  The baptism service is where you publicly affirm your decision to have Jesus pay for your sin on the cross and to have all your sins forgiven by His death on the cross.

There were a couple of teaching pastors and elders on the stage so you didn't know who was going to baptize you.  I was gratefully baptized by Rev. William James Hybels.  I walked and stood in front of him. I looked him in the eyes as he asked me questions to make sure I understood the commitment I'd made then he baptized me.  As he did so, tears rolled down my cheeks and I closed my eyes. I wanted to take in this moment - the most important moment of my life.  When he was done, he shook my hand and said, "Walk with the Lord, Amy."  I've never forgotten those words and in fact, had them inscribed on my bible.

Many years later I was baptized in our church's lake.  I had a great fear of being immersed under water so I took a class at the YMCA called T.O.W. (Terrified of Water) so that I could be water baptized.  Then I asked one of the elders I knew if he could be the one who dunked me.  In June 1995 (Seven years later), I bounced up out of the water feeling clean and freed, restored and whole from an area of sin I was confused about.

Since both baptism days, I have never been the same.  I learned I never did anything bad that caused the abuse.  I was the victim of someone else's disease of alcoholism.  I learned God was with me through all of the ugliness of my childhood - I was never alone.  I learned I have sinful behaviors that need to stop, that only God can help me remove.  Best of all, I learned I have a forever friend in Jesus - who will always be with me and guide me wherever I go.

Why Jesus?  He paid a debt he did not owe.
Instead, he paid a debt I owed that I could not pay.

Thank you, Jesus.

I'm forever in YOUR debt.

When Depressed, Help Others

I woke again very early and felt discouraged.  I don't know why I'm not able to sleep later like I've been used to.  I move from my bed onto my couch and watch a movie.  During the movie I drift back to sleep until I wake up and slowly start my day.  I'm still depressed but I try to make the best of it.

Today I had one thing to look forward to.  A phone call from one of my closest friends.  I used to see her when I would visit my mom.  God gave she and her husband the nudge to move far south several years ago.  I can't remember when I last saw her.

Talking to her today was like sitting across from her sharing a cup of tea.  It was just what I needed from my dear friend.  I needed to hear about her life:  The blue birds, the baby eggs, she and her husband being the landlords, the eggs hatching and the next group of eggs.  I could picture her gentleness caring for these little ones.

She told me how the teaching and her outline is coming along.  It was so good to hear how God is clearly revealing some points He wants her to focus on.  She is a gifted teacher and so humble to take none of the credit.  Not only am I praying for her but I'm going to join in on reading the book from which she is teaching and send her any thoughts God places in front of me to share.  I feel so much love for my friend, through her tears.

After we hung up, I went to a couple of stores.  When I finished putting my things into my car I noticed an older woman pushing her cart toward me and looking around.  I asked, "Ma'am, do you need help finding your car?"  "Yes, I thought it was over here but now I don't know."  During the search I tried to put her at ease by making her laugh.  After some looking on the other side of the lot, she found it!  She thanked me and said I was a "tracker."  

On the way home I was driving near some very tall grass when I spotted two Canadian Geese with little babies trying to cross the road.  I turned around then turned around again and coaxed this little family back into the tall grass.  I kept inching forward to discourage them from crossing the road and pretty soon they gave up.  They were safe in the grass which was also a marsh.

I had a conversation with a friend about her friend who is depressed.  I made a bold move by stating, "If what you're telling me is true, she needs help now.  She needs to see her psychiatrist and therapist.  I asked if she got rid of things when she's depressed.  She said no, only when she's bored.  I told her that's a tell tale sign of the first step toward suicidal ideation.  And that's not something you want to mess with.  Then I told her be willing to talk to her because I've been where she's been.

Each of these women or situations reminded me of an important truth:

God uses the very least of us to love, encourage, help and speak truth into the lives around us.

No matter how useless I feel.

No matter how knowledgeable I am.

No matter how small the task.

No matter if anyone else notices.

No matter If they want my help.

God knows my heart for people.  He knows my love for them.  He knows I want to comfort their fear.  He knows I want to expose the lies.  He knows I want to protect them from harm.

But........not my will be done.

Fear of Outside

I'm sleeping a lot again.  Most of the day was spent lying down taking little naps.  I did some chores, ate a little bit but then I'd lay down and nod off.

I was going to go to the forest preserve and sit at my favorite spot.  Toss my line in the water, watch the boats go by, feel the cool breeze and soak up the sunshine.  But when I would start to get ready to go, I'd feel this great sense of fear and I'd stop.

There's no reason to be afraid.  I'd be less than 10 minutes from my house.  I've been there several times before.  I think being outside is what I'm afraid of.  It's weird.

I'll talk to Faith (my therapist) about it.

Maybe there's a good reason for the fear that I don't remember.

It's worth trying to find out.