And yet....

Psalms 42 and 43 which we studied at our last Living Room Bible study sure hit home for those of us there. We could relate to the psalmists' laments. We could relate for the thirsting after God expressed in the opening verses:

"As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?"

You'll remember the wonderful hymn based on this Psalm. How well that song ministered to me a few weeks ago when Nancie shared it with me!

As we studied these Psalms we saw how the writers expressed their depression, but clung to the hope they had in God. In spite of everything they're able to say,

"Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God."

Oh to be able to cling to God in that way! In spite of everything to be able to say "...I will yet praise Him."

These same words are repeated three times within Psalm 42 and 43.

How can we who suffer from mood disorders hang onto such faith? How can we get ourselves to the place where we can say, "...and yet I will praise Him. In spite of everything, I will praise Him."

I think we need to keep wanting God, to keep hungering for Him. We need to talk to Him. And that can start by simply saying "hello" to Him. I believe God is pleased when we yearn for Him and He will be there for us. He will show Himself. The Bible says that he who seeks will find. So true!!

God is always there. He doesn't leave; it's we who leave Him. But all we need to do is talk to Him...to say "hello" and whatever else we'd like to tell Him about how we feel and how we need His comfort and His peace.

We'll be discussing this topic at Living Room this Friday. If you're in the Burnaby area, might you like to come along? Just check the website for the information. You'd be most welcome.

Unconditional love

In their book, New Light on Depression, David Biebel, C.Min. and Harold Koenig, M.D. wrote, "Love - unconditional love - is the ultimate long-term antidote for depression, for at its core love is connected with faith and hope." I find this a powerful statement.

I believe that when we feel loved by our friends and by God, no matter what we do or say - and when we love others in the same way - all our emotional and spiritual needs end up being met, even if indirectly.

When we love and are loved unconditionally and non-judgmentally:

• we feel good about ourselves
• we feel secure
  
• we care enough about ourselves to want to take good care of ourselves
• we find out that it is more gratifying to give than it is to receive
  
• we want to do our best to make our life count for something - to do God's work
  
• we are able to be more forgiving
• we are encouraged in our faith in God
  
• faith in God leads to having faith in what he provides, including medical treatment
• faith in God leads to hope

No wonder Jesus said what he did: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments." Matthew 22:37-40.

The Bible also says, "This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins." 1 John 4:10

So much of our ability to deal with depression hangs on how we give and receive love.

Finding meaning

My most recent article about finding meaning in my life with bipolar disorder was published today. I hope you'll take a look. There has been one comment, one I've responded to. The person vehemently disagrees with my efforts to take a positive spin on things. And perhaps you might agree with her. I think there's lots of room for discussion here.

But I have found meaning in life, meaning that I'm not sure I would have found without my disorder.

I was talking to a friend this afternoon who feels similarly about the renal failure she suffered a few years ago. She received a kidney transplant. It didn't take. Then she had another one. Today this tiny lady lives with four kidneys inside her (doctors did not remove the non-functioning ones). Physically she is not strong, but she is happy and has never felt as much at peace.

The thing is, in the midst of these transplants she found God. Her life has changed in an amazing way. This might not have happened if she had not suffered such a crisis.

Something similar happened to me. I began searching for God at a time I felt I could no longer cope on my own with the unbearable feelings my disorder brought on. I needed someone I could lean on to help me through those rough times. This is how I found God. And my life has also changed in an amazing way.

In the article that was published today I missed mentioning this important spiritual life that I have found in my life with bipolar. I wish I'd remembered to do that. But this more complete story, No Longer Alone, is also online. It was published in May. I would love if you would read it.

I would be interested to hear your comments on this positive look at living with bipolar disorder. Am I being far too positive (in your opinion)?

Sleeping: an act of trust

It's a coincidence - or is it? - that Susan of Bipolarwellness just finished talking about sleeping problems, searching for solutions that might help Kira out. I had been planning on doing a post about the problems of getting rest. It was the topic for our last Living Room meeting.

Some of the practical solutions to getting to sleep are well covered in Susan's post. But there is a spiritual angle to this - one I haven't seen discussed too much anywhere. I read a wonderful book by Mark Buchanan and loved it so much that I am in the process of reading it again. The Rest of God: Restoring Your Soul by Restoring the Sabbath deals with rediscovering what it means to truly rest. One of the things Buchanan writes about is sleep.

I want to share with you what he has to say on this topic:

Sleep is "...a relinquishment. It is a self-abandonment: of control, of power, of consciousness, of identity. We direct nothing in our sleep. We master nothing. We lose ourselves and are carried like children or prisoners into a netherworld alternately grotesque and idyllic, carnivalesque and elysian. In sleep we become infants again: utterly vulnerable, completely defenseless, totally dependent. Out of control.

"...So sleep, besides being a necessity, is also an act of faith.

"...we give ourselves, regardless of our unfinished business, into God's care. We sleep simply because we believe God will look after us."

God leads - through highs and lows

Sharing a neat little poem I friend sent me last night. Very comforting.

He Leadeth Me

He leadeth me.
In pastures green? No, not always.
Sometimes He who knoweth best
In kindness leadeth me in weary ways
Where heavy shadows be;
Out of the sunshine warm and soft and bright,
Out of the sunshine into the darkest night.
I oft would yield to sorrow and to fright
Only for this: I know he holds my hand,
So, whether led in green, or desert land
I trust, although I cannot understand....


So whether on the hilltops, high and fair
I dwell, or in the sunless valleys, where
The shadows lie--what matter? He is there.
And more than this; where'er the pathway lead
He gives to me no helpless, broken reed,
But His Own hand, sufficient for my need.
So where He leads me I can safely go,
And in the blest hereafter I shall know
Why in His wisdom He hath led me so.


Anonymous

The gifts of bipolar disorder

Having bipolar disorder isn't all bad, especially when you are fortunate enough to have medications that work for you. This illness has been with me since I was nineteen years old and I am now 61. I couldn't imagine being a regular person - a person without a mental disorder. Seems to me that might be quite boring.

I've come to accept the way God, the great potter, made me. I've learned to make my disorder work for me rather than against me. Today I look on my bipolar disorder as a gift, a gift with many benefits.

I'd like to share with you fifteen things I value about this life with bipolar disorder. (it's possible someone else may already have done this but I'm not sure.) I like being bipolar because:

1. I experience a wide range of emotions. While often painful, it provides a richness. I feel so very human.
2. I can be unbelievably creative
3. when I'm not depressed, I usually have lots of energy and accomplish a lot
4. I have learned a language many don't have access to: the language of suffering. This helps me understand and connect with many people. I know how to help others.
   
5. I consider King David a brother who I can relate to. His Psalms touch me deeply.
6. I love people so very much: another product of strong emotion. It's beautiful.
7. my suffering has taught me to value the good times and make the most of them
8. my experience with depression, mania, and psychosis has helped me learn to be strong
9. the pain I have suffered has been like a fire as it refines metals. It has built my character.
10. I have learned to have compassion for others because I know what it is to go through rough times
11. it has taught me humility
12. it has taught me gratitude for all that is good in my life. I don't take anything for granted.
13. it helped me turn to God, knowing I could not survive under my own willpower
14. it encouraged me to have a faith that has transformed my life
15. it makes each day an exciting adventure.

God IS good and I thank him.

A soul at peace

Things have come together. I no longer feel so dizzy and stressed. And I'm sure it's all because we had a Living Room meeting this afternoon. How therapeutic that group is for me, even if I am the leader - probably because I am the leader! I get so much out of doing this work. The feeling of joy and peace I have after meetings never ceases to amaze me.

In my small sharing group today the members talked about a lot of pain. It was intense. We felt for each other; there were tears. But at the end of the meeting we prayed and gave it all to God. I went home feeling at peace. I hope the others sensed that peace as well.

That's the beauty of faith-based support. Not only do we support each other, God is there with us. God is part of the picture. We talk about our faith and we talk about our doubts, but we all accept each other - wherever we are. No one judges. At Living Room we can be real with each other and express our joys and pains. This open sharing is healing.

I am excited about having finished the manual to help other Living Rooms get started. I know it will be a powerful tool, helping other churches see the value of such a group and showing them how to set one up. Forming a Living Room group gives churches an opportunity to respond to Christ's call to love and help people in need, people who are all too often shunned in the community. Having such a group in the church is a good way to help build understanding within its congregation. It will help make mental illness a more acceptable topic of conversation, reducing the stigma that exists.

If you are reading this and feel moved to consider such a group for your church, please let me know. For a very reasonable cost (haven't figured it out yet, but it would be under $10, just covering cost for mailing) I could forward you a copy of this twelve-page manual. It will explain all you need to know. The manual includes a letter from my pastor, testifying to the importance of Living Room in our own church's ministry. If interested, you can email me at info@candidsbymarja.com.

My next job will be to write a manual on how to be a Living Room facilitator. And after that, a booklet of sample devotionals to use at meetings.

A dizzy soul

I'll be going to Bible study in a little while and I know that one question our facilitator told us she will be asking us to answer is, "How is your soul?" I would have to answer that it's rather dizzy right now, though it is improving. I'm beginning to settle down - more able to focus on the jobs at hand.

For such a long time my main goal in life has been to reduce the stigma toward mentally ill people within the church. For so long I have been striving to educate Christians by writing articles, promoting a pastor's mental health workshop and writing a book. But now things are coming together.

www.canadianchristianity.com has asked me to contribute regularly on the topic of mental health and the church. The more I think about it, the more I realize this is a wonderful opportunity. This is exactly where I need to be. God is good.

In May this website published my testimony. Soon they will be publishing an article I wrote a couple of years ago, Mental Illness: The Result of Sin?

Other questions we will have to be prepared to answer at Bible study this morning is, "How have you seen God at work in and through your life since we last met?" and "What God-given dream are you nurturing?" My answers to these will be easy. God has been at work leading me to fulfill my dream and it's becoming a reality - bit by bit.

And that isn't all. Another great thing is happening. Someone in Abbotsford, a town 45 minutes from here, is working to start a Living Room group in her church. This could be the beginning of my dream to see Living Room groups in many churches.

It's amazing where God leads us when we let him!

Depression: a disease or a state of mind?

Mel Avila Alarilla left an interesting comment on my last post - something that prompts me to discuss this further.

Yes, depression is a state of mind, but this state of mind is caused by a disease - or a disorder.

I think there's an unfortunate misunderstanding of what mental illness is. In my opinion keeping "physical" and "mental" illnesses as separate entities is a mistake. I believe that mental illness is just as much a physical problem as heart disease, asthma, or diabetis. In mental illness the organ that's affected is the brain. Physiological malfunction of this organ affects a person's thinking, emotions, and behavior. This occurs through no fault of the person who is ill. I feel the time must come that mental illness be no longer put in a separate category. It IS just another illness.

Can faith conquer depression? Faith will help us cope, as it does with other illnesses. But once a person has a disease like bipolar, depression and mania are inevitable, no matter how much faith he has. We can cling to scripture all we want and it will often help, but the depression and negative thinking and feeling that comes with it cannot be avoided. Neither can our highs with the elated feelings be avoided. This is the nature of the disease.

Mel says how his life changed when he began following Jesus. I can enthusiastically say mine did too. It's quite amazing where God has brought me and I'm very grateful. I'm sure I wouldn't be doing as well as I am now if it weren't for Jesus in my life. The church I belong to has been very supportive. Through my friends there, I've come to understand how great God's love is. The knowledge and assurance of that love does much to keep me well, secure, and with less fear than I would otherwise have. Sharing that love with others has taken me out of the victim role and made me strong.

...Yet I still get hopelessly depressed at times. It just happens. I went through two months of it only a while ago. I struggled, I prayed, and my friends prayed with me. But it had to run its course.

I must say, though, that experiencing these moods is not all bad. The suffering is misery - yes. But going through this suffering is what helps me understand others who suffer. I know a language that those who have it easy cannot understand. This language helps me connect with many people. If I didn't go through depression once in a while I might forget. I would perhaps lose the ability to have compassion.

I'm not sorry that God made me the way he did - bipolar and all. I know he did it for a reason. He has given me work to do that I can do precisely because I have this disease. And I love this work. Facilitating Living Room, the faith-based support group for people with mood disorders, is pure joy. I like to refer to the way I feel after meetings as "holy joy." There's nothing else like it. Hard to believe, I know, but true.

Faith and mental well-being

Studies have been done about the benefits of faith to our health, including our mental health. Most of them have found that religious people have a greater ability to cope than people without a faith. One of the top researchers in this field is Dr. Harold Koenig of Duke University Medical Center. An interview with him by Lisa Schneider brings to light some of his findings. Dr. Koenig has a number of books out on the subject.

The reason I bring this up now is because yesterday a friend asked me, "What does your belief in God mean to you and your ability to cope with bipolar disorder?" When I started listing for her what my faith meant to me, I found I couldn't stop. Once more - as always happens when I take the time to stop and think about it - I was overwhelmed at how far I have come since I first began believing in God nineteen years ago. My life has become rich and full of purpose. I was transformed and I continue to be transformed. It is an exciting journey.

I want to share here some of the things I'm doing that I'm quite sure I wouldn't be doing if I hadn't been studying the Bible, learning about Jesus, spending time in prayer, and belonging to a community of friends who share my beliefs. When I became a follower of Christ:

1. I learned to fear less and trust more.
2. I gained the courage to speak openly about my disorder by writing about it, realizing that it's only by talking about mental illness that we can reduce the stigma. This is what God would want for the world.
   
3. I learned that I don't have to be ashamed of having a mental illness. I am God's child.
4. I sensed God's love for me and learned to share that love with others.
5. I gained the support of wonderful friends who love me with a godly love, no matter what I go through or what I do or say.
6. I discovered a purpose that is greater than me, work that I find exciting and of significant value.
7. I discovered gifts I never knew I had. I became a leader and activist. (not bad for someone who was for so many years a shy person, afraid to speak up)
8. I learned to persevere and never give up hope.
   
9. I learned that when I help others, I become strong. I am no longer a victim.
   
10. I learned that I can, in a very special way, understand those who struggle like me. Listening to other people's problems connects us. A meaningful bond develops. There is richness in that.
11. I learned that God made us to be creative - in his image. When I have the urge to make something happen I try to obey. What an exciting life that creativity has brought me!
12. Though depression is still a hellish experience, I have come to look on it as something to use. By trying out different coping techniques and writing about them, I can make good come out of bad. I've learned that each episode helps me learn more about life. The Bible talks about trials as a "refining fire." We become better - stronger. Being reminded of what depression is once in a while helps me have compassion for others who go through it.
    
13. Though I often feel too small to carry out the work I've taken on, I now realize it's okay to be small. I better realize how big God is, and how I need to allow him to work through me. I only have to be his hands; he will do the rest.
14. I learned to appreciate the way the great potter molded me, one step at a time. And I know he's not through with me yet.
    

I am grateful for all God has given me. I like who he made me to be - bipolar and all. Life is good.

White-knuckled

Chica, in a recent post quoted Phyllis from The Young and the Restless as saying, "I'm holding on so tight that my knuckles are white." This reminded me of the way I used to feel. I wrote about it in my new yet-to-be-published book, A Firm Place to Stand, and thought I would share it here. This also happens to be a theme we will discuss at Living Room this Friday.

I dedicate this post to Chica.

I Don’t Believe in If Anymore
©marja bergen

With the greatest determination, I used to cling to what was left of my mind’s composure. I felt as though I were hanging from the edge of a high rooftop, white-knuckled, panicky with fear. How long can I hold on like this? Can I maintain my strength? What will happen if I let go? Exhaustion overwhelmed me. Far below was the hard ground and no one to catch me if I fell.

But I did fall – quite often. These experiences were devastating and difficult to recover from. The support I received from family, friends and my doctor was helpful, but I was alone in the battle.

Rudyard Kipling’s poem If was like a bible to me during many years of my illness. I described in Riding the Roller Coaster how meaningful this poem became, how I patterned my life after its good counsel, how I carried it with me for many years. It encouraged me to become a productive and responsible person. I still think highly of the poem and try to go along with most of its advice. I follow through on my dreams, don’t worry about what others say and try as much as possible to “…fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds’ worth of distance run.” But I no longer listen to the challenge Kipling leaves us with these words:

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will, which says to them, “Hold on!”

For twenty-three years, I tried to live out those lines when I was in crisis. I tried with my best willpower to survive the mental turmoil that overtook me. I was determined to be strong, hanging on to whatever I could, but not finding much of substance. Those were times of anxiety and fear.

Coping with crisis finally changed for the better when I could no longer deny that God is real. I realized I didn’t have to depend on myself alone. I could relax my grip and trust in someone much stronger than me.

The faith I learned to have in a God who loves me too much to let me go helps me cope better with stress. Extreme difficulties no longer develop as often. Sometimes I still have a fear of falling, and for good reason. But today I have a Bible that tells me, “Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will help you. I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10, NLT) Remembering this gives me comfort when I need it. I am not as afraid anymore.

Challenging periods will always be part of my life. There will be times when I’ll have trouble. I may even fall. But I know that when I do, there will be someone there to catch me and stay with me as I recover. I’ll never be alone again.

Hanging on the wall across from my bed is a photograph of a child’s small hand resting comfortably on her father’s big hand. Underneath are the words from Proverbs 3:5, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” During tough times, I look at that photograph and feel a sense of peace. No longer is there a need for white-knuckled fists, no longer a need to rely on my own inadequate strength.

An amazing meeting

Living Room met today and the afternoon had a party atmosphere. So many of us were there. We had set up four tables joined to each other to make one huge table that will seat 18 people. My co-facilitator thought that perhaps I was overdoing it - and I kind of wondered that as well. Usually we put up three tables which will seat 16. But we ended up with 20 in attendance, an all-time record for us. We had to squeeze a couple of people in on the corners, uncomfortable for them and not something I like to do.

The two ladies who spoke at the service last Sunday told us how they had felt when they shared their story with the congregation. One told us that she had found the experience freeing. Both speakers had received a lot of affirmation after. I know that they were popular after the service ended, with many wanting to speak with them. We celebrated by bringing out a cake with sparklers on it.

Although I'm happy about the success of our support group, I also feel overwhelmed. How long can we continue doing this before it becomes unwieldy? We usually like to have some discussion based on the devotional, but had to forego that today because of lack of time. With ten people in each sharing group, there isn't a lot of time to spare.

I very much want to encourage the formation of more faith-based groups like this and will now have to do some serious work on this. The need is greater than my church and I can respond to adequately. I've decided to write a manual/guide as a tool for churches who wish to do what we have done. But to do a proper job of this I will have to try and get some funding from an organization that shares my vision. I'm working on that.

Please help me pray that I will find a way to spread the Living Room concept to other areas. People who suffer from mood disorders need to have a place where they can get support from others who share their faith in God. It is important to have a place where they discuss both: their mental health issues as well as how God works in their life.

What joy!

Yesterday we had a meeting of our Living Room support group. And once more, as always, I had such a wonderful feeling after - a quietly joyful feeling (I like to call it "holy joy"). And that feeling is still somewhat with me, though of course, gradually fading. But I'm happy and positive and I value that, especially after some of the hard times I've had recently.

Twelve of us were in attendance. I don't know if I've ever described our setting here so will do it here: We try to make things as warm and cozy as we can, though we meet in a big church hall. We place three long tables together to make a square table, cover it with a table cloth and place a candelabra with four candles in the center. Everyone helps themselves to lunch as they arrive then sit at the table and visit until the meeting is ready to begin. There are always dishes of chocolates handy. Yesterday we munched on Kisses: milk chocolate and "healthy" dark chocolate ones.

We start out with prayer, then discuss something that arises from Scripture - some topic that has a bearing on what we experience with our moods - often the Psalms (because I believe David was one of us). Yesterday we discussed love and whether we're able to give and receive love when we're depressed. I was pleased because almost everyone contributed to the discussion - even our pastor, Don, someone who usually tries to keep a low profile.

Then, after a break and helping ourselves to more food, we split into two groups where members have an opportunity to talk about what is happening in their lives and any struggles they might be having. At the end we pray for each individual present.

Living Room is a safe, loving, Christian place for people to receive encouragement and find out they're not alone. I'm very happy with how my dream is turning out and want to encourage other churches to offer this kind of self-help group. It's a great way for churches to do something to support those with mood disorders.

This weekend I will work on an article about Living Room for BC Christian News, a paper that goes to all the churches in this area.

Thank God!

Thank God, I did pull out of that two-week down time! I was so worried it was the beginning of something big, but it was just another little blip. At times like this, I wonder though: how much of my surfacing back to the stable old me was because of the strategies I employed? How much depression can we avoid by taking steps before it gets too deep to extract ourselves?

I just know that on the night I contacted everyone to remind them of the Living Room meeting, my mood elevated significantly. I enjoyed talking a bit to everyone. After that, tears no longer threatened. On Friday we had a record turnout of sixteen people. How good it is to see such enthusiasm in the group! Unfortunately I was sick with a bad cold that day and could only be there for an hour, but my co-facilitator took good care of things, with many hands to help her.

My book proposal is ready to present to publishers and I will put it online as soon as the final two chapters have been edited - within the week. Very exciting!

In reading one of the finished and polished chapters today, I felt a tremendous sense of peace come over me. The story is a good one. It should inspire and help others have faith in God's love and power. The story I tell is how a very sick young person found faith in God and was gradually transformed into a person who is - for the most part - joyful and grateful to be alive. It is truly amazing where God has taken me since those early years when I spent nine months in a mental hospital. For twenty-five years I was thought to be schizophrenic and received only anti-psychotic drugs - no mood stabilizers.

I've been through a lot, but am not sorry for it. God is the great Potter and I am the clay. I believe he had a reason for making me the way he did. And he carries on shaping me into the kind of person he wants me to be. I am willing to do what he calls me to do - to be soft clay in his great and loving hands.

I'm feeling somewhat prayerful tonight - thankful. Guess you can tell?

Getting busy

Although I'm not hypomanic, I have gotten myself into an awful lot of projects and work lately. I wonder why I always do that? Even when my mood is normal I like to take on a lot of stuff. Last week I suggested a fundraiser cookbook for my church. We badly need to replace the roof and it's a lot of money for a small congregation like ours to raise. So I had the wonderful idea to produce a community cookbook: Recipes from Many Nations. This won't be your run-of-the-mill church cookbook. This will involve the whole community.

This is exciting. But, what with tying up the loose ends of my book, finding a publisher, facilitating the support group, looking after mom and mom-in-law, and my household, it is a lot of stuff. This cookbook will be a responsibility. And I'm not one to do things half-heartedly. I'm perfectly able to handle everything now, but am worried what would happen if I were to go into a depression. I'm trying to find a right-hand person to work with me so the project will be safe, even if I do flounder.

This is one of the most frustrating thing about living with bipolar. You never know where your mood is going to be. You never know if you can count on yourself. I'm a responsible person. I've accomplished a lot. I get things done. When I'm stable I see no reason not to trust myself. Yet you never know...

But today I'm well and strong, doing one thing at a time and I'm grateful for that. Each morning I will pray, asking God to continue giving me strength and courage to do all he has led me to do. I will trust in him and take one day at a time.