Our need for love

In the end - to see us through our mood glitches - isn't all we need, to be assured that we are loved? And when that reassurance of love isn't forthcoming, we start to doubt God's love, don't we? We start to feel isolated and abandoned. And isn't that the worst feeling of all?

I believe the worst thing for Jesus wasn't the physical pain of the cross. It was that He was abandoned by His friends. Those to whom He had revealed all He was.

At least Jesus understands. And that's a source of comfort.

Cold complaints

I need to have someone to complain to. I have a bad cold. Seldom get one of those but today - on the third day - I'm not good at all. Fever and a cough that scares the cat off my lap and - actually - would scare anyone. It sounds like I'm dying. I don't feel like doing a thing, yet I'm bored too.

What bothers me most is the loneliness that comes with being sick. Wish I could talk to someone - complain to someone. I just don't know what to do with myself.

Yesterday my husband and I managed to do most of the dishes that had been piling up for a couple of weeks. I couldn't do them earlier because of some burnt fingers and my husband was sick. But yesterday, after doing most, I left a few to soak and there they are today, still soaking. I'm also way behind on my laundry and no energy to gather up the bedding and everything else and throw them into the washer. My husband has offered to help me a bit. He doesn't know what he's doing, but just to have him at my side will help.

Lonely - especially with my two best friends out of town. One of them - the very best for me to talk to - has been gone for almost five weeks and will be gone for six or seven more. That's real hardship. A person I share almost everything with and with whom I talk almost daily when she's in town - now far away.

I've done quite well though - kept busy - so I haven't suffered too much. Yet today it would be so neat to talk to her a bit.

Full of complaints, aren't I? Good to have this blog though. Good to have someone to talk to.

A lonely place

Depression is a lonely place to be. The loneliness and disconnectedness we feel must be the worst part of it. We long for someone to reach us through that wall we have around us. We long for love to touch us and bring us out. We long to sense God's presence. We know God loves us, but we can't feel it. We are cold and alone. In limbo.

What can we do to re-connect? How can we find help?

At times like this I long for a call from a friend. I long to hear that someone is thinking of me and praying for me. I long to know that someone cares. That would, I think, in a small way break through the isolation I feel. That would, in a small way, cut through the wall and help me feel some warmth.

I need a friend who will listen to me and just be with me for a while, without making me feel bad about being the way I am. I need a friend who will not tire of sticking with me as I work my way out of the hole I'm in. I need a friend who will love me, no matter how ugly I feel. I need someone I can count on. I need someone who will remind me that God is there.

Play as comfort for the soul

I thank everyone who commented on my last post. You are encouraging me to keep on with my new painting hobby.

Over the last few days I've been thinking of how comforting creative activity can be. I remember times in my life when it was very much soul food for me.

When I was seven years old I was sent away from my home in Amsterdam to stay at a place we called a "colony." This was an institution in the countryside for city children who were unhealthy. Here we stayed for six weeks while the nurses tried to fatten us up by feeding us lots of starchy foods - lots of bread. Parents were only allowed to visit half way through this six week period. I stayed in one of these places two years in a row.

It was a traumatic time for me, a shy little girl who found it hard to be away from home. I remember the nurse's harsh command to us at bedtime to lie facing the same direction, a ploy to keep us from talking. I remember the shrill yelling at me to get into the shower in the steamy institutional bathroom where we had all lined up naked. "Get in there! Now!" I was terribly frightened, since I had only taken baths in our zinc washtub at home. I was afraid of the hot water splashing all over my face.

One day I got locked into the bathroom by accident while everyone else went out for a walk. I panicked. Here I was, all alone, with no one to hear me. I cried and screamed. Finally, someone did come and let me out. This nurse was kind and compassionate. She got me settled at a table by a window with some coloring pencils and paper. Here, with the warm sunshine pouring down on me, I enjoyed a peaceful hour by myself, looked after by someone who cared about my feelings. That was one of the few enjoyable times I had in that place.

Throughout my adult life, ever since I first got sick at the age of nineteen, I have turned to creative activity to help me through depressions and to keep depression at bay. The solace of quiet playing with paints, photoshop, or embroidery thread restores me. Making something beautiful with my heart and hands is powerful medicine. It feeds my soul.

Gotta talk to someone

My husband calls me insecure, and maybe I am. I get into states where I've simply got to talk to my friends. It's so hard not to, even though I've bothered them enough. Calling every day gets a bit much, don't you think?

But I've been having brief periods of down-ness. And when I'm down I don't want to withdraw, I just need to talk. My river has to flow.

So here I am again, needing my friends. I'm glad for this blog: a place to connect with people without bothering anyone who I shouldn't bother.

I'll be glad when today is over and I can sleep and wake to a new day. Tomorrow will be a busy one: Living Room day. I'm looking forward to it. Our discussion will be about the value of suffering. My pastor calls pain the gift no one wants, but one that is a gift nevertheless. Pain does so much to strengthen character. People who have suffered know a lot more about life than those who have it easy. I've never had it easy, yet I'm pretty sure that is the case.

Suffering is one of my favorite topics to read about. So much has been written about it and there's so much evidence that those who suffer and overcome have much to offer. Much has been written in the Bible about suffering. The Bible talks about knowing Christ and "the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings." I'm learning to share my pain with Christ. I'm learning to see my pain as his pain and his pain as my pain. I'm together with Jesus in my pain. I meet him in a very special way.

Interesting how so many Christians still think that good Christians should not suffer. They think that a Christian who suffers must have sinned or something. So many form their own ideas without reading the Bible with an open heart and mind. They overlook so much of scripture. They see only what they want to see.

Tomorrow may be an exciting day. It may be the day my article will be in the paper. I'm so curious to read what the columnist has said about me. Just hope it's positive, because I'm a pretty positive person and believe in hope. But the interview went so fast, I would have liked more time to express what I'm really all about. But he had fixed questions he wanted me to answer - didn't let me have my way with him the way I would have liked, though I tried....We'll see.

I could sit and talk on and on to you, because I am lonely with my thoughts. But I don't want this post to be so long that you won't want to read it, so I will close.

Thank you all for being out there my friends.