Changes...

        It’s been almost a year since I last posted on here. But a sweet friend of mine challenged me to get back on the horse, and so here I am writing. 

        Truth is I’ve written a ton of things within the past year. The problem is that those words never escaped my head. It just seems that the thoughts hit me when I’m not directly in front of a computer screen. They come to me when I’m driving down a twisting road or searching the aisles at the grocery store for whatever is next on my list. Needless to say, I don’t just whip out my laptop and pop a squat in the middle of Wal-Mart in order to jot down my current feelings or thoughts. Hence no post in ten months. 

Recently, however, I redecorated my bedroom.

        When I moved in two years ago I chose the colors dark purple and beige. I felt it was more of a “grown up” color scheme in comparison to the bright, neon colors I’d had during my college years. For a while it was soothing. It was warm and comforting. It felt like home. 

        Fast-forward two years and those same colors were no longer warm, but dark. The soothing feeling had become the feeling of loneliness. The colors I had chosen had turned on me, playing a role in the sick skit that is my depression.

So for the past two weeks, I’ve been walking into a bright, joyfully colored room. And I must say… it’s nice. Coral and teal are plastered throughout the walls, chevron patterns and vibrant owls are strategically placed, offering a revitalizing space. 

        What I’ve realized (now that I’ve come to love the light) is that my bedroom for the past two years has perfectly reflected sin. Warm and comfy at first; Makes you feel “grown up”, making your own decisions, decorating the walls of your life however you want. Until one day you wake up and realize that the once comforting tone in your life is now the thing that haunts you most, dark and gloomy with no source of light. 

It’s overwhelming. But it’s not permanent.

        It’s changeable! You weren’t fashioned to be the interior decorator of your life. You were designed to be molded, decorated and celebrated by the One who created the colors of the rainbow, the One who made you simply to be loved. That’s what you were made for. Not darkness. Not sadness. Not loneliness disguised as a dim bedroom.  

        So open the curtains of your heart! Let the light in. Become a lover of His presence and watch the format of your life transform. It’s never too late for change. But even so, why wait any longer? Redecorate. 

With love,

Brittany Jade

5 Steps to Having Victory Over Depression

“I found my spot in the shadows of life. The corners untouched by even the most misplaced souls.

I hid in the dark, holding my breath. I isolated myself and covered up with independence. I threw trust to the curb and relied on only myself. My broken, scared self.

And I died.

Moment by moment, life slipped from my veins. And before I knew it, I was gone.”

This came from a not-so-lost page in my journal.

Sounds dramatic, I know. But that’s how depression is. Even if the actions of depression don’t show such drama, the thoughts and emotions of someone failing to survive it are so full of despair that they face the danger of it ripping them apart at any moment, from the inside out.

That is my life.

Daily, I struggle with depression, although I personally think it doesn't deserve that many letters. Four could do the trick. Ya know, a word that starts with H and ends with ELL. (And yes, the caps are definitely called for.)

You see, depression lurks in the parts of someone that could never be seen with the eye. It cuts you in all the worst places; the ones already beaten and bruised. It screams in a voice so hard to drown out that you catch yourself yelling back at it, tears streaming. It clings to your lungs, making each breath more difficult than the last.

It lies. It tortures. It mocks. And it cripples.

The last few months have been some of the darkest I've ever had.

And those around me may not even notice it. Because I've done my best to hide it. Ya see, I’m used to being the smiling girl. The one with all the jokes. The one to hand out encouragement and truth. And that’s a truly hard person to be when you can barely breathe yourself.

I’m a teacher, spending my days emptying myself so that my students may be full. I’m a youth director, all efforts going to be a safe person in the lives of some who have no one to call their own. I’m a friend, a daughter, a sister; each of which require some sort of selflessness. Each with its own standards, formed by many different people. And in these last few months, I have come to learn just how intense those standards are. Some require me to hide that I’m human and I actually break sometimes. Some seek only acts of kindness, love and influence without the option of honesty. Others entail a happy-go-lucky Christian who is protected by life’s hard moments by the shield of religion and padded pews. And I can’t meet any of those. Because I am human and I not only do I break sometimes, but I’m currently in a place of brokenness.

And that’s why I’m writing this. Not because I want attention, not for pity or “poor thing” responses. I’m writing this for all the others out there like me. The ones who are hurting so bad, they can barely see through their pain. I’m writing for everyone, male or female, so busy trying to live up to expectations that they have taken a break from seeking Truth, like I have.

I've slacked. I stepped away from my time and devotion to the Most High so that I could meet smiling expectations of those who don’t even have a clue of what’s going on with me. And I've wasted. I've wasted time. I've wasted energy. I've wasted away, piece by piece.

I stepped away from the only One who not only knows exactly what I’m going through, but who also holds the very cure my heart seeks. His name is Jesus. And I’m coming back to the Him. Depression is not something that is going to just erase from my life, but there is no other way to survive it. He is my refuge. He is my hope. He is my healer. He loves me. He will hold me when times are unbearable and laugh with me when bits of strength push through to the surface.

He’s also there for you. Willing and waiting for your permission to hold you. Cradle you. Heal that heart of yours.

So here it is; the 5 steps of having victory over depression:

1.      Take it one day at a time. Don’t focus so much on the best times of the past, but instead, on the promises of the future.

2.      Dance. Seriously, whatever song is stuck in your head, whether fast or slow, dance. There’s this life altering, quite strength that comes with swaying to a song that has attached itself to your heart.

3.      Find at least one positive in every moment. Even the darkest moments. 

      So down that all you can do is lay in bed staring at the ceiling? Well, obviously you have a comfortable bed. There’s a positive!  And no, I’m not trying to be funny or annoying. I just know how easy it is to become consumed with the darkness, despite the flecks of light around you.

4.      Be honest. That may mean explaining to your coworkers that you’re having a really rough time right now and they may see a little less of the bubbly part of your personality. It may include telling your pastor or church family that you struggle with depression. It may even mean telling your family that you need them. But whatever it is, be honest about it. Allow those close to you the opportunity to walk this part of your life with you. And don’t be ashamed of it.

5.      Last, but definitely not least, don’t rely on only a list of things compiled by any person of this world to overcome your depression. Seek Jesus. First and always. He is the one who fashioned you. And He is the owner of Victory.

I love you all. Far more than I could ever explain. And even in the midst of my own disaster, I am praying for you. Because I know I’m not the only one here. <3 o:p="">

A Needed Reminder

                This evening, I was blessed to join with some friends that I haven’t seen in a while and attend worship at their ministry. We planned to have dinner and hour before to catch up and chow down. As we navigated our way through the dining hall, we ordered meals, grabbed drinks and headed to pay. I was pulling my money out of my wallet when one of my friends came up beside me and informed me that he was going to pay for my dinner. Of course, I refused, telling him to save his money. And of course he won the battle. 

                Such a generous act of kindness was almost shocking to me. It was as if I couldn’t believe someone would do that without expecting anything in return. The act of thoughtfulness settled into the depths of my heart as we made our way into worship.

                When the pastor was done teaching and the worship team had finished leading, we resorted back downstairs to get our belongings and make our way to my car. It then hit me that I had left my leftovers in a small-group room. We immediately noticed that there was an important meeting going on, and neither of us was too excited to interrupt it just to grab my food. And in that moment, I was hit with shame. Here it was, someone had paid for my dinner—a dinner I could have and should have paid for myself—and I was potentially about to waste his money. Guilt settled in my stomach. 

                It wasn’t until I was headed home, rethinking the evening’s events, that it hit me. Jesus Christ paid a price for me that I should have paid myself. A price much greater than the cost of any dinner I’ve ever had. And yet so often I waste His glory and grace without a second thought. I leave leftovers, hidden in a box, to be thrown away or wasted. 

                In the end, my friend had knocked and went in to get my leftovers. He wasn’t worried about his money being wasted or even the possibility of being embarrassed when he entered the room. He was most concerned that I not go without. He was Christ-like. 

                I sometimes ignore God. I don’t thank Him enough. I try to gain control. I pretend I have it all together. And yet, in every moment, His heart yearns to take care of me. He goes out of His way to untangle things I’ve caused to knot and He gives even when I refuse to take.

                I was blessed this evening to join with friends I haven’t seen in a while and worship. But more importantly, I was reminded of the generous, faithful God I serve. And that is what matters most.

                                                                                                     In His Love,

                                                                                                     Brittany

Psalm 151

If I were to write a Psalm, here’s how it would go:

Lord, when will the morning come?

You’ve promised light and truth to wash over my night

Yet I have yet to see it.

Darkness surrounds me.

How much longer must I drown in the dusk of my thoughts

How much longer will my faded strength be all I have

How much longer?

Rescue me.

I beg You, rescue me from this pit.

I crave joy

I hunger for peace.

I sing your name

Though my voice is barely audible

My mouth releases praises

But my heart only aches.

Where are you, Lord?

Have you placed me in the corner?

Is this payoff for my lack of love?

Is this the shelf on which idleness has placed me?

How long until you take me down, dust me off and renew the heart within me?

How long, Lord?

For I seek restoration.

Renewing, I need.

Save me, Lord.

Save me, my God.

The Best Novel

                A few weeks ago, I began writing a novel. I love writing and have always wanted to push my limits and go big. When summer came around, I saw it as the perfect opportunity. And so I began! Only one day in, I realized I needed to plan first. I couldn’t write a story if I didn’t know where it was going, what the struggles and excitements would be or who would bring the story to life. I began mapping. I made a list of character names with a small description of each. I then made a map of how these characters would relate to each other, when they would meet and what they might look like at the end of this book. I wrote down a few themes that I wanted to be sure stood out within the words on each page and then I stood back and admired the chaos I had caused on paper.

                At first glance, it didn’t look like a smooth story. The twist, turns, ups and downs make it seem almost impossible. But being the one who planned it all, I knew that not only would it work out, it would also be beautiful in the end. I began writing the introductory chapter soon after and I am currently a fourth of the way through it!

                As I have been working on this novel, I have learned a lot more about God and His plans than I ever expected to learn while writing. See, like myself, God had a vision. He valued that vision so much that He decided to draw out a plan. He developed characters, relationships, twists, lessons, romance, healing and so much more. He knew what He wanted His ending to look like and sought out to write a story that would make its way to such an ending. And that’s when He wrote it! He wrote the story of my life. He did the same for you.

               

                Often times, I find myself in the first chapter, longing for the tenth. Or I find myself in the middle of His novel, wanting to rush to get to the end. I sometimes flip to the back, looking for an index to tell me when I’ll meet my husband, how long I have to wait for my dream job or when I’ll welcome the birth of my first child. But no index is to be found. As impatient as I sometimes am, the lack of knowing has never really been easy for me. But what I’ve been reminded of in this new adventure I’m on is that God is an amazing writer. He is poetic, romantic, honest and thoughtful. Each chapter does not give the answers for the next, but it sets a stage for learning and loving, struggling and growing. And if we read with a desire to live in His will, it will be the most riveting and consuming story we’ve ever read; The story of our lives, written by none other than our Creator, Healer and Father.

In His Love, Brittany