Miraculous

Situational depression was the diagnosis.

Years ago, I sat in a psychiatrist's office and that label was slapped on me. It felt like a slap, at least. I didn't know what she was talking about. I was there to help my then husband, not myself--never myself. I hadn't asked for her diagnosis. She, however, was concerned not just about him but about me, too, and asked me to fill out some forms and answer some questions. Back then, I didn't know how to exist for myself but she tried to help me. She wanted me to take some medication until it passed.

I refused.

That's what he did, not me. I would not take drugs to fix my problems. I wonder what things would have been like if I had listened. 

But I didn't.

So the next 15 years went by and here I am. She was right. I was right, too, maybe, about not getting on the medicine. Or maybe not.

It's very sticky, depression. It's very tricky, too. It feels like fog for me, but when the fog is there long enough I can't tell it's there anymore. I adjust. The good things in life still happen, the not so good things in life still happen, and it's all in a haze. Less color, less light, less emotion. The numb takes over and a piece of me curls up inside it to hide

and to rest.

Depression is a "bad" word but it's also maybe necessary. If I was fully feeling all of those things, I might have shattered again. Or maybe I would have felt it faster and healed more and better.

I'm not sure.

All I know is what was and what is, and now the fog is thinning so now I realize how thick the fog really was. More color and more light are coming back so now I see how much was missing.

I'm so grateful God is in relentless pursuit of me. That's what has brought me out of the fog. He never gave up on me, and the moment I truly reached out to Him, He was there, waiting and ready. I was turning to other people and things for comfort. Sometimes in healthy ways, sometimes not. When the fog sets in the light gets hard to see and the tangible, physical, that's so much easier. For a moment. Then it's much more painful instead because reaching for the temporal instead of the divine is a betrayal to my soul because my soul is divine and that's what it truly yearns for.

He didn't give up on me. He kept reaching out. He gave me opportunities to serve. He gave me opportunities to choose Him. I was asked to speak in church and some of the fog fell away. I was asked to serve a friend and some more of the fog fell away. I spent some time with family and some of the fog fell away. I attended groups with women who are beautiful examples and powerful teachers and I learned and grew and more of the fog fell away. I spent some time in nature and the fog lifted in a miraculous way.

He kept pursuing me. He never gave up. He kept helping me work to clear the fog that I didn't even really know was there.

We are told to seek and expect miracles, and I try. I was trying. I was looking, I was reaching. Then I realized, the miracle is not there, it's here. The miracle is not soon, 

it's now.

I was asking for a miracle when I couldn't get out of bed and was asking for help to simply want to do anything. I was told, "Rise, he calleth thee," so I got out of bed and looked for the miracle and I missed it for a moment because that was the miracle. The miracle happens inside of me first. The miracle isn't the touching of the robe, it's the faith that healing will come with the touching. The miracle isn't the sight being restored, it's the faith that the master will restore it. 

The moment of rising is the miracle. It's the immediate shift from me to more than myself--to Him. Responding to the call is as miraculous as completing the call.

The miracle is not only to be sought and expected later, the miracle is now. The shift in my mindset is the miracle and the action is the outcome. Things are complete when they are acted upon, yes, and I love recognizing how miraculous the whole journey up to that point is as well.

I am learning to see the miracles in the moments along the journey. I am learning to see the miracles inside of the pain instead of only after it goes away.

Even though I thought a beautiful life and future with a certain person was ahead for me, it's a miracle I didn't marry a man who was not ready to be a healthy partner for me.

Even though my income isn't what I would like it to be right now, it's a miracle I no longer have to work in a toxic environment with unhealthy demands and expectations.

Even though I have to do a lot of work to clean up messes I didn't make, it's a miracle a person who caused my children and me unmeasurable pain is now free of all that made him that way. And our own journeys of healing have been and will continue to be miraculous.

The miracle is on its way, and the miracle is now.

The miracles are all around me, before and behind me, and

the miracle 

is me.