Why did He come?

My mom-in-law is doing okay. She had her transfusion in the ER on the weekend - the ER, simply because - for a variety of reasons - it was the most efficient way to get her looked after. She is weak but in good spirits. On Thursday we'll take her to the specialist to see what he can do.

I'm still into a low grade depression. I can tell because I don't have much energy to do the things I would normally be doing at Christmas time. The thought of preparing Christmas dinner scares me. It seems like it will be a bigger job than I'm up to. My husband mentioned that he notices that I'm still down. He can often tell better than I do myself.

But the wonderful thing is that this is not a bad depression. Things could be much much worse. So I'm thankful. I putter at the jobs that have to be done and I find contentment now-a-days doing sudoku puzzles and playing Ticket to Ride with my husband when we have a free evening. My days are not at all black, just a pale wash of gray.

I've been eager for our Sunday church services this Advent season - eager to gather as much from them as I can. In his sermon on Sunday, Pastor Don mentioned John 3:16, the well-known verse we all learned to memorize in Sunday School: "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." That verse is so common that those of us who are familiar with it hardly pay attention to exactly what those words mean. That's the danger when words become too common.

But Don then pointed out verse 17, one that doesn't get as much play: "For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." Jesus did not come to merely point an accusing finger at the world for how bad it was. He came to help. He came to set the world right again. The story of his life shows that so well.

Oh, if Christians, as the followers of Christ we are supposed to be, would only pay attention to those words. Too often we're guilty of criticizing or judging. We need to help each other. We need to love the way Jesus taught us to. It's this kind of love we celebrate at Christmas time.

In the midst of the chaos

Mother's doctor called on Friday to take her in for another try at a transfusion. Unfortunately I was at Living Room and we missed the call. So yesterday we ended up having her picked up by ambulance and taken to the ER for the transfusion. It was the only way we seemed to be able to get it done. The regular department of the hospital who handles them did not return my repeated calls to them when I tried to set up an appointment. Poor woman ended up spending the night in that hectic environment.

With Mom's unwellness to deal with, Christmas is more chaotic than usual. But I think I'm handling it okay. It's just difficult to get around to - or to get in the frame of mind to - do the baking I'd like to do. But tonight I will try to make my shortbread cookies.

At times like this I am happy for Living Room. Living Room offers a retreat from the world, a place to be with other people, a place where I can be myself and I don't have to pretend everything is fine when it isn't. Even as a facilitator, I feel this. There is a lot of love in our group - many hugs shared around. Everyone truly cares about each other.

On Friday there were 18 of us present. I talked about how, during my 36 years of photography, I learned how the focal point of a picture - no matter how messy, busy, or chaotic it is - is always on that which has life. If there is a person in a busy picture with many elements - even if the person is quite small - that is where the eye settles. You'll focus on the person.

If we were to look on Christmas as a picture, a busy, chaotic picture with many different elements - the card writing, the shopping, the decorating, the parties - there is one focal point where we can rest our eyes. This focal point is Jesus, the whole reason we are celebrating this holiday. If we can stay focused on him, we will be able to find peace. The busyness won't bother us so much. In the midst of the chaos is the One who gives life. He is the light of the world. He is love.

The awe and wonder of it all

Last year's Christmas was a stressful time for me. I truly suffered from all the negative aspects of the season: the huge number of fliers coming to the door irked me; the full parking lots at the mall overwhelmed me; the stores with the Christmas music and the pushing of goods bothered me. The materialism of it all - the having to live up to all the traditions, when I wasn't in the mood - the pressures of going to parties and having to entertain family at home were more than I could bear. I saw it as a chaotic time, one I wished I could escape.

But - blessing of all blessings - this year is different. I feel at peace. I don't feel pressured. I'm enjoying the season. And this started happening even as I was struggling with depression over the past few weeks. That's truly amazing! Thank God!

So I went to church this Sunday - the first Sunday of the Advent season - eager for Pastor Don's sermon. He didn't let me down. He talked about how Advent should be a time of quiet waiting - a time to look forward to Jesus' coming.

Unfortunately Christmas has become a time of chaos for many of us, when it should be a time of awe and wonder. Just think of it: the child Jesus who was born was God, come to earth to walk amongst us. He came to show us who God is and what he's like. He showed us God's great love and illustrated his amazing grace.

Christmas is very much a time of fantasy and nostalgia, a time when we try to recreate feelings we had in the past. But recreating those feelings can be difficult in the lives we're living today. We often end up with pain when we can't do it. But if we could remember to focus on Jesus, the whole reason we are celebrating, perhaps we could escape the pain and lighten the expectations we put on ourselves. Perhaps we could escape all the noisy stuff and the chaos.

The time leading up to Christmas should be a time for stillness, a time for peaceful reflection. Think about what a mystery God's coming into the world was! Think of the awe and wonder of it all!

"Do you want to get well?"

I've almost finished reading a great book by Mark Buchanan called The Rest of God: Restoring Your Soul by Restoring Sabbath. Something he said hit me very hard and made me look at something I've never considered before. He said, "It's the most natural thing to befriend your sickness, even, after long association, to depend upon it." Buchanan carries on by talking about some of the people Jesus healed, "Their entire lives...have taken shape around their injuries or diseases."

In John 5:6 Jesus asks a crippled man, "Do you want to get well?" That seems to be an odd thing to ask a person and, to think that a person doesn't really want to get well, might make us think ill of him. We might think of him as feeling sorry for himself or wanting pity. But, when you think of it, this man had been crippled all of his life - 38 years. No one had ever expected anything from him. He had never had responsibilities. To suddenly be well would mean a drastic new way of living, a way of living that would be hard to adjust to.

And this made me think that perhaps I'm a bit like that. To be perfectly honest, having lived with bipolar disorder for my entire 40 years of adult life, my illness does - in large part - define me, even though I do a wide variety of things. The major part of my current life involves raising awareness about mental health issues and supporting others who live with mood disorders. My BP is responsible for the kind of person I've become. When I become hypomanic, which often happens, I become super creative. I value that in myself. My moods are what makes me who I am. ...though I would love to get rid of those depressions.

If Jesus asked me, "Do you want to get well?" would I say yes?

I'm sure that if he had offered to make me well when I was twenty or thirty, or forty, I would have gladly said yes. I would then have been able to go back to school perhaps and start a career. My illness has kept me from that, the stress being too great. I've tried. I might have been able to make photography a full-time career. But now, at sixty-one, I have learned to turn the bipolar - the bad - into something good. I've learned how to help others cope with their illness. I've learned to build awareness. That has become my life. I could not do these things the way I do, without experiencing the disorder myself.

But you know, although I still have bipolar disorder, I think Jesus has made me well. In helping others, I am helping myself. The work I do gives me great joy. I love the life I live.