chasing grace

It's a part of me. At times it hides deep within me. Sometimes it rages wild, devouring my strength, my peace, my joy. It's not a friend but a constant and dreaded adversary. It leaves me deep in a pit unable to climb or even call out. It controls me; it consumes me.  That’s depression. Depression has plagued me for nearly half of my life. My human strength is gone; I’m just waiting for God to rescue me— “to lift me out of the slimy pit; out of the muck and mire” (Psalm 40). Until I come out victorious, until I’m able to leave this desolate wilderness of isolation, exhaustion, and deep sadness, my life is on hold. My sole purpose, it feels, is to overcome. Everything around me tells me that is where strength seems to be found; only in triumph will I be myself again. Strength is found in victory, right? Many of us may assume that question is rhetorical, but a biblical worldview invites us to something deeper and richer. Jesus teaches a vastly different idea about strength and su...

It's been almost 10 years now since I dreamed up this blog. I meticulously designed and re-designed. I named it and then renamed it. I wrote and deleted, and wrote and deleted. Although I had hoped that writing my thoughts might give me clarity of mind, it has made something else painfully clear... I am not a writer. At 2 AM, I write some really good material in my head but by 6 AM it has either completely fled my memory, or it simply isn't as profound or witty as it seemed then. Although I hold to the fact that I do some of my best thinking at those unwholesome hours, I do not do my best writing then. To be completely honest, I have learned in the last 10 years that I am an average writer, at best, but have virtually nothing to say.  Motherhood has made me a better person in so many ways. I am less selfish, stronger, and more honest with myself than I ever thought humanly possible. But, motherhood has also jumbled my thoughts, induced a mushy intellect, and caused me to be far...