Friday, September 20, 2019

Mental Health Awareness and the Church: My Journey


Mental Health Awareness and the Church

My heart is overwhelmed with grief these last couple weeks as I have observed the posts, the tweets, the blogs, and comments from the Church world as we’ve learned yet another young pastor has passed away from suicide. I’m sure I don’t have the knowledge or the training to do the topic justice; but I do have my own experiences as someone who was and is immersed in the Church culture and deals with my own mental health struggles/illness.

First things first…I am not blaming the Church for this tragedy. It is a complex, messy, concerning event that has and will forever significantly alter the lives of those around it. His family, friends, and the church he served. No one is to blame. This isn’t a finger pointing mission. Secondly, those who know me well know I work as HR staff in a Mental Health clinic. I have become passionate about mental health through this work; but let’s make it very clear, my area of expertise is Human Resources, not mental health. I am not a therapist. I have not been trained in mental health. I have been trained in Human Resources.

Now to dive in.

Pastors and professional church workers…I beg you; please begin the conversations that surround mental health in your churches and in your circles of influence. The freedom and release you may bring by making these conversations the “norm” will be matchless. Find the phone numbers of local therapists, mental health clinics, and refer your congregation there if it is out of your area of expertise. Bring certified therapists on staff if you have the resources to do so. Attend mental health awareness trainings and seminars in your local community. Research what the Bible has to say about mental health.

My Story

As a young adult, in volunteer leadership roles, and as a paid staff member at church, I was struggling with anxiety. It was hard and I felt so alone in the struggle. My anxiety didn’t present as anxiety in the church. It presented as “sin”. It presented as uncontrolled debt; because shopping sprees made me feel better for a moment. It presented as being controlling; because I was grasping for control of my racing thoughts. It presented as dishonesty; because those who I turned to in the darkest times didn’t know how to respond to me. They responded the best they could, but it was inadequate. The recommended counseling, which helped for some time; but for anyone dealing with ANY chronic illness knows mental health rebounds. I was stuck in a vicious cycle.

The story I was hearing from those around me was: I wasn’t good enough. No one was saying it outright mind you, but no one was talking about their own struggles. The outward things they saw where the topic of conversation and correction; the behaviors where being addressed but certainly not the underlying cause. It caused me to cover up and not present as I truly was. My prayers weren’t enough. I was stuck in “sin”. And I wasn’t going to get better. God could heal cancer, infertility, drug addictions, etc. but God couldn’t heal my brain, and I didn’t understand why. The shame that set in was debilitating. I did not know anyone else at my church who was struggling the way I was. The conversations weren’t being had.

Prayers Didn’t Work

I know I just turned a lot of you away with that statement… “Prayers didn’t work”; but please hear me out. Prayers ALONE didn’t work. Do I believe God can heal any  illness including mental health in an instant…Yes, absolutely yes. But for me and my story, prayers alone didn’t work. I prayed, I journaled, I sought counseling and kept ending up in the same place. I needed something more. It wasn’t until my son was born that I was able to entertain the thought that I needed something else to help me fight what was going on. I made the appointment to get treated for post-partum and discovered that I had most likely been fighting anxiety this whole time. Longer then I remembered. Longer then I cared to admit. That appointment, and that medication was the answer to prayer.

 

How to Get the Conversations Started

Mental health is personal. Most people are not going to walk into a small group, altar service, and say “I’m struggling with…” especially if they have in the past and response was not well received. One of the more freeing moments I have experienced in my mental health journey was when a well-respected Pastor/Mentor in my life shared FROM THE PULPIT; “I see a counselor”. It unlocked and began to release the shame I was holding onto in my life. I had a close friend text me and say “Please pray for me. I am really struggling with depression right now. I have an appointment to go see my doctor later this week”. And again, the release was felt.

In church culture and leadership there is this mentality that pastors and their families are held up on a pedestal. That if they are struggling with something, they must not be “holding the faith”. We have to stop. This prevents the people in leadership positions from openly sharing their struggles, and receiving the grace they need to move forward. It prevents grace from pouring out on those they led and shepherd.

There’s this culture of “Don’t bleed on the sheep” amongst church leaders that is damaging. I would challenge you to look at what messages you are relaying that may send the message to your people sitting in the pulpits that are struggling with their own mental health. If a staff member went to the senior pastor of your church and said; “I’m struggling with…” how would it be received. Would there be fear for losing their job? Would there be fear of placing their family in financial ruin? Or upsetting the culture of what their family knows? Many people in church do not come forward when they are in the depths because they fear this. We need to create a culture amongst our church staffs that it is okay to struggle, its okay to voice those struggles. We are all works in progress. We need to equip our church leaders and staff with resources for themselves, for their families, and for those they seek to lead.

Monday, April 22, 2019

Journey into Motherhood


There is the loss of identity that happens when we become a mother. We say it won’t, we claim that we know who we are, we are too confident to have that happen to us. Then that child comes into our lives and everything changes. “The best parents are the ones who haven’t had kids yet.” I’m that person, I have always wanted to be a wife and a mom, I was strong in my faith, I knew kids (I worked in childcare with all ages, all ability levels and I knew what I was doing). And here I am most days at a complete loss as to what to do.

I have had many people close to me comment that it seems “I’m not spiritual” like I used to be or “I’m not as vocal about faith things” like I used to be. There’s probably an element truth to that, because I don’t know how to incorporate those things into this new role. Gone are the days I could spend an hour reading my Bible, and praying, and journaling, you know self-care things, the things that are so important. In the last two years since Jack was born, I have started 3 books, and I have completed none of them. Prior to having Jack I consumed books, so many books. I journaled every single day. I blogged often. Again since his birth I have completed 3 pages in a journal, and blogged never. Now I make notes here and there as my days go by. A quick scroll through FB and seeing some else’s inspired devotional post makes me pause and say…that’s good. And I consider my devotional time complete. But my goodness do I cling to faith stronger than ever. Watching my little guy sing “Jesus loves me” or belting out Lauren Daigle’s “You say” and something deep melts within me. He is unencumbered by what this world or well-meaning people tell him he should be. And the heart of Father God for us shines. And that is something I cling too. Perhaps this journey of finding myself, and using my faith to guide me, isn’t so much a journey of becoming something more, but rather a laying down of those expectations and enjoying exactly who I am, as I was created to be. Throwing off the expectations of others and truly just living.

It isn’t the busyness so much as it is priorities. I’m learning to die to myself each day. Because there is someone who needs me, along with my other responsibilities. So here I am tossed into this new role, which I have not navigated before. It’s messy, and I am not always “rocking it”. It appears that many moms have it all together, their Facebook shows them and their kiddos in matching outfits, perfect top knots, they had time to get Starbucks on the way to church and somehow their matching outfits coordinate perfectly with the Starbucks cup they got that day. They posted the perfect scripture verse that speaks perfectly to their lives, and they find time to work out, still have perfect lines of communication with their husband, and their homes are immaculate. My life looks more like this: Last week alone I woke up late for work 3 out of the 4 days I went into the office, I spent the majority of the weekend crying, because I was tired, hangry, and I felt like an outsider in my life. My house is currently a mess. Every single plate we own is dirty. I haven’t blow dried my hair since December, and I was really glad it snowed a few weeks ago because it meant I could put my run off for another day. The power steering went out on our car, and I didn’t buy my kid a birthday present until 4 days after his birthday. I didn’t even wrap it when I gave it to him. We are navigating pre-teen years while co-parenting a nearly 12 year old. Both of those things alone are a full time job. Combine them, and survival becomes the goal, not thriving, not rocking it, those things don’t apply to this situation.

I don’t recognize myself, because I am not that person any longer. I am not the woman who can spend hours surfing Pinterest, and trying new crafts, and reading gobs of books right now. And that is okay. At least I want it to be okay. My alone times consists of going to work, and being able to close the office door while I eat my lunch, and that’s not always enough for this introvert. And that is okay. After Mr. Toddler Man goes to bed, it’s often all I can do to not go straight to sleep myself. I’m trying to remind myself that this is a season, these are the days I am going to miss; but truth be told, right now, I don’t feel that way. And that is okay.