Let Hope Rise

In the last two years, I've faced many crossroads.  I've moved five times, gotten a divorce, conceived a child, finished my doctorate, and am now roommates with my ex-husband..in the same house I moved out of two years ago.  Are we back together?  Not sure.  Yes? I think? Neither of us really knows, but we're raising my daughter and our son together, we get along great, and we occasionally speak of remarrying. With an infant in the house, no one really knows what sleep is anymore, especially me since she and I share a room, so when we've tried to define our relationship and life together it's just comical and uncertain.  "So am I like your boyfriend or something?" he will ask with a smile.  "I dunno, should we like...go out on a date or something?" I'll ask in return.  We both try to be hip and fresh and new, yet he's the same man who talks to me while I sit on the toilet and I'm the same woman who yells about his odorous gas and smelly socks.  We've been together for over 11 years and know each other inside and out, so it's hard to try and carve out something new when we're both so accustomed to the old.  But we try. Then the baby cries and the answers get lost in a sea of spit up and dirty diapers.  The truth is, we don't have all the answers.  We don't even have half the answers we'd like to have.  He loves me, I love him, and we both love the children we're raising together. That much we know.  It's an unusual dynamic considering my daughter was conceived by someone else while he and I were apart, but it's our dynamic and,strangely enough, it works.  For now.  Amidst the chaos of starting over with a newborn and stumbling our way through a marriage, divorce, and a now new and undefined, yet unfolding, relationship, we're just trying to take the next step and let hope rise.

As You Can Be

If you've ever sought therapy, then you know that your first encounter with a therapist is often birthed from some ongoing mental, emotional, or existential crisis that has finally become unbearable.   Prior to setting that appointment, you were attempting to regulate and manage the pain or circumstance on your own, but you reached a breaking point.  Congratulations, you're now ready for help and you can choose to see the breaking point as either a new beginning or a sad ending.  It's your perspective to define.  We all have a limit on how much we can take, and seeking therapy is not an indication of your weakness, but a bold statement of your humility and fortitude and drive to overcome.  While many disdain the benefit of mental and emotional health treatment, as a therapist, I've seen beautiful and profound strength in the broken client who tearfully seeks help (Psalm 51:17). Those who disregard the advantages of therapy are usually the ones who have never experienced it, and therefore, have no knowledge with which to judge the treatment process and therapy dynamic.  Is that to say therapy is for everyone? Certainly not. Each person must handle life in a way fitting for himself, but if you're a therapy patient, and have sought help from a place of brokenness and despair, know that you're stronger than you think, more capable than you've ever dreamed, and fully known and loved by a God who sees you (Genesis 16:13), not just as you are, but also as you can be.

For Me

Have you ever struggled with sin?  Ever found it difficult to stop behaving in a certain way that you knew wasn't good for you? Perhaps you drink too much and want to stop, but find yourself still pouring that glass at the end of the day. Maybe it's a sexual behavior and you're finding pleasure in promiscuity only to have it give way to feelings of guilt and shame when it's over.  Pornography? You want to stop watching, but the strength of what you see pulls you in one more time.  Addicted to stealing? The rush you get is one from which you want to be free, but you haven't been able to break that chain.  We've all got something and from mid-2015 to January of this year when I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, I  experienced self-inflicted heartache and struggle on an unprecedented level.  Like Jacob, who wrestled with God (Genesis 32:22-32), I regularly fought with God, myself, and others, and like Jonah, who ran from the call of God (Jonah 1:3), I, likewise, fled the Lord's summons.  I stepped deep into pits of my own sin and rebellion, and I watched as my family unit disintegrated under the tumultuous battle between good and evil, righteousness and wickedness.  Recently, however, I have come to realize that despite the chaos and storms raging around and within, even when I am against me, God is still always for me (Romans 8:31).