Rested and Green

 
Today I'm once again combining the Lent Challenge (rested) with Five Minute Friday (green).

I chose the above photos from a long weekend away I had in Flald-y-Brenin three years ago with a good friend. It was both restful and full of greenery.

Rest is as important as exercise and activity. God set the ultimate example by resting at the end of the first week from His work of creating the universe. 

I belong to a Facebook group which encourages individuals with health issues to get moving. We applaud a few steps round the house and thirty mile bike rides. We also cheer each other on when someone has a rest day (like me today). 

Rest is important for the wellness of our whole being. I also find - with lockdown and other challenges - that enjoying nature is important for my mental and emotional health. I mostly keep away from the countryside around us because so many other people are enjoying it but don't always bother to socially distance, making me feel unsafe with the current pandemic. So I often confine my walks to the town but pounding the streets doesn't relax and refresh me as much as the greenery and rivers.

The psalmist, King David, clearly valued the joys of nature as evidence in Psalm 23: 'You lead me beside still waters and make me lie down in green meadows; You restore my soul.' 

Call

 

I used to love praying. 

As a teenager, I'd shut myself in the spare room at my parents' house on a Sunday afternoon and pace up and down praying.

When I was ill with ME/chronic fatigue syndrome ten years ago, I spent two to five minutes a day praising God. After I was healed, one of my favourite things was to pace up and down the long narrow kitchen in the house we then lived in praying, praising and singing at the top of my voice. We weren't attached to anyone on that side of the house so hopefully I didn't disturb the neighbours. It was just a little embarrassing if the postman knocked!

After God healed me of ME/CFS I enjoyed prayer walking round the streets, praying in to situations and for seven-fold peace (peace, wholeness, completeness, welfare, prosperity, tranquillity and harmony) on my neighbours. 

That all changed sadly three years ago when abusive and traumatic childhood memories suddenly and unexpectedly returned. For months I was angry at God for allowing it (I still don't have answers but am no longer so angry).

One of the reasons I enjoyed praying so much in the past was that as I called on God, He blessed me with His presence, sometimes so tangible I'd end up on the floor, often laughing uncontrollably. It was fantastic. I felt so close to God at those times.

It was so different when my mental health went downhill. I questioned everything and was constantly exhausted from being hyperalert all the time. Praying turned into angry rants. God was big enough to deal with it but I missed Him.

I sometimes wished God had a phone number that I could just ring and we could talk. Prayer can sometimes feel so one-sided - especially if we're not well mentally, physically or emotionally, never mind spiritually.

Although I've changed, God hasn't and I believe He is still delighted to be with me when I call on Him - though these days I have to believe it more by faith than from enjoying His presence. But that doesn't mean He's not there.

Now I'm more stable mentally, I've recently started prayer-walking the new estate where we now live. I used to have very angry walks - I didn't see anything or anyone clearly. It's far nicer going for walks when I'm murmuring blessings on the people I pass and praying for God's Kingdom to come - and hopefully there'll be eternal spiritual benefit as well as physical and mental benefits here and now.

Name

The first consultant I worked for as a medical secretary/PA taught me how important is a name. His surname was unusual but similar to another name - so many people got it wrong. He would even refuse to meet with medical reps who couldn't be bothered to get it right (I would warn them though it didn't always work). 

Three years ago I was diagnosed with a mental health condition called Dissociative Identity Disorder. Because of a traumatic and abusive past, I have over fifty little girls in my head. They are all 'me' at different ages. As they each appeared, I gave them nicknames to tell them apart but my therapist suggested giving them real names. I think that may have been a bit of a turning point in my healing process - giving them names. By naming them, they knew they were precious and of value. They were heard and seen, known and loved (which I guess is what we all want).

Initially, my diagnosis really got me down. It wasn't just the fragmentation that was difficult to deal with - it was the realisation that I'd been so badly hurt in the past. I was greatly helped and comforted at the time by a verse in Isaiah  (40:26) which seemed to fit my situation perfectly:

Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens:
Who created all these?  
He who brings out the starry host one by one 
and calls forth each of them by name.
Because of his great power and mighty strength,
not one of them is missing.

Broken and hurting we might be, but He knows me and all my girls by name - and not one of us is missing. My Daddy-God loves and cares for us in a way my abusers did not.

Walk

 

2020 was the year of the walk. And so is 2021 so far. 

I love where I live, on the edge of the countryside. Within five minutes' walk, I am on a nature reserve and farmland. For the last couple of springs I've revelled in the fields, hills, woods and streams. Apart from the occasional dog-walker, I've had it to myself.

But these days I restrict myself to wandering around town. There are too many visitors to the countryside, and the paths are narrow. I sometimes wonder if I'm the only person in this area to be taking the COVID precautions seriously? So few people will move aside or allow adequate space when we pass. It's safer to stick to the pavements and step out into the road if people won't budge.

The other day I was longing for the countryside so thought I'd risk it but soon discovered the path was busy with small groups. I'd have needed specialist breathing apparatus to get safely past them all. So I turned aside and nipped down a very muddy field path. I was ankle deep in liquid mud. Just as I was thinking, 'This is deep,' my welly got stuck. In pulling it free, I fell over backwards with a loud squelch and a splash. Adi had to hose me down in the garden when I got back home.

This afternoon was so bright and sunny, I headed for the canal. It was pretty quiet human-traffic-wise and I was able to enjoy the swans and ducks. Being out in nature did me good emotionally and mentally.

Fix

 

Today's Five Minute Friday prompt is:  fix.

For the last three years I've been struggling with my mental health. For the last year, I've also had some physical health challenges.

I've noticed friends (and I'm very grateful for all of them) are more comfortable around physical than mental health. I understand this. I was the same - until I was diagnosed with a mental health condition myself.

I have had good support - both prayer and practical - and, as I said, I'm grateful.

But why do we often try to fix each other? Especially with my mental health, I longed for someone to just be there. Not to try and fix me or come up with a solution or tell me how things should be. I wanted someone to sit with me and share my pain and grief, to be with me in it. 

There was definitely a place for encouraging me that I will come out of this one day. But I didn't always need to hear that. What I needed more than anything was for someone to acknowledge the trauma and my distress, not to do or say anything, but just to be with me.

And I have to say I have a handful of wonderful friends who do listen and are there for me, and I'm so grateful for them. 

I think when someone is grieving or coping with past or current trauma, or similar situation, we just need to be there for them. Let's stop trying to fix what seems to be wrong and instead simply listen, hug, cook a meal or bake shortbread. Sometimes we just have spiky emotions that need to be safely expressed with someone we can trust.

Life

This week's Five Minute Friday prompt is: LIFE.

Life is a funny thing....

After a relationship ending in my early twenties a friend assured me, 'You never know what's around the corner. You could be married with a baby on the way this time next year.'

I nodded along, not really believing a word she said. All I could see was a life of singleness stretching ahead of me and that's not what I wanted.

But it wasn't long before my lovely husband came along and we have now been happily married for a couple of decades.

A little over two years ago, we were hit with a juggernaut full of heartache and pain which brought with it mental ill health among other things. Twelve months in and I felt like I'd had enough. I was sick of traumatic memories from the past returning and throwing me into fresh mental and emotional turmoil.

I angrily yelled at God, 'I hate life!' I couldn't see any way out of the dark tunnel I found myself in. I wanted God to know how much I hated life because one of Jesus's titles in the New Testament is 'Life'. There were times I hated God.

Thankfully, Jesus is steering me through the dark tunnel and there are times now that I can even see a pinprick of light at the end of it.

Still, there are some days I'm less thrilled about being alive than others. But I do know now that Jesus is the meaning of life. Without Him I can't see the point, but with Him my life does have meaning.