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Part 2: My Journey through Post Partum Depression

It is the prison without walls, bars, or guards, where the prisoners self-regulate their own captivity.

Though it wasn't a barrier for me prior to getting help, as I sat in that lonely narrow room in the psyche ward, as reality hit home, it started to rear its ugly head.
What would people think of me? What would my relatives think? There goes any chance of you ever serving in the prophetic ministry - ha! ha! Have you heard of a prophet who ended up in the psyche ward?  (Of course, the ever generous Spirit pointed out acting crazy was actually a strategy, which David unashamedly used. )

All my life I have struggled with shame. It is a pervasive and persistent force that camouflages itself in many forms, particularly in anger because anger is how shame hides its pain.

So my first reaction when the dust settled, when Brian left and the doors were locked was anger, extreme anger.
I don't f**king  belong here! This is a mistake. This is so wrong. I am so angry. All I can f…

Endurance Day

“If he wasn't a gym teacher, he was going to be a doctor,” my fifth grade teacher said as I sat with the two men in the PE office. He was trying to make me feel better. But as tears streamed down my face and my palms and knees burned fiery hot, I did not feel better.

It was “endurance day”. We were instructed that the class would be over when we completed running five full laps around the outside of the school and its play yard. I hated endurance day. My lanky limbs grew fast but were quite late syncing into graceful harmony with the rest of my body. It was a day of shame for me, for I knew I would be among the last runners to complete the task. Indeed it was my only goal to not be the last one to cross the finish line.

But my shame was to be of a different sort this endurance day.

I was panting already, as I began my second lap. I had watched most of the boys and over half of the girls sail past me, running with enthusiastic energy. Some were beginning to lap me already as I push…

My Journey through Post Par-tum Depression: Part I

I have done my best to avoid speaking about this recent journey I have been on. But I gave my gift with words to the Holy Spirit awhile ago and therefore I know I have a responsibility to express the things He moves me to. So here goes sweet Holy Spirit, take over.

On February 1st 2017 I was nervous about the intake interview I had volunteered to be part of to qualify for group therapy at the HSC. Months before my baby boy was born, I knew that I must be ready for the possibility of post par-tum depression (PPD). According to the numbers, women who have had depression in the past and have experienced complications during pregnancy and childbirth were more susceptible to get PPD.

Well by the end of labour and delivery, I had checked off all three categories.

I was in a lot of physical pain.
I was angry.
I was struggling to connect with my newborn.
I was sad all the time.
I was anxious all the time, constantly afraid that something was wrong with my child.
I was constantly thinking tha…

Restorer of Innocence: The Faith of Jesus

Jesus IS purity.

Apart from Him, purity is mere morality.

And I don't need to be a Christ-follower to be moral: Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Jews, and even atheists, all have a sense of morality, have sets of codes, have some form of the laws . . .

But Jesus IS purity.

He is Holiness.

He is Holy.

And by the sacrifice of His blood, He makes me pure. He makes you pure.

His purity is so much more than abstinence from pre-marital sex, from narcotics, from hedonism.

His purity is so much more than adherence to modesty, a code of ethics, altruism.

Jesus' purity restores. 

He restores me enables me to stand before the Holy of Holiness - God Almighty.

His purity sets me free from disillusionment, and despair; jaded hearts, He crowns with JOY.

His purity empowers me to believe again.

His pure faith restores me to the innocence of being a child of God; of being one with my Father and the sweet Spirit.

His purity sets me free to dream again. . .

Love Always Believes: The Faith of Jesus

Jesus doesn't believe like me, or anyone I've ever met. That's one of the many reasons that makes Him forever special in my heart.

In my walk with Him, whenever He sees a valley in my soul, a place wanting growth, a place needing change, He NEVER goes on and on about how I have missed it. He never talks about all the things I could have been or should have been.

He never operates in disappointment with me. 

He told me once that He is Truth and as such, He knows everything about me, which makes it impossible for Him to be disappointed in me. Figure that one out!

But that truth set me free. It made me take a closer look at the Lord, at the God-head and really understand what Isaiah realised.

8“ and myFor my thoughts are not your thoughts,    neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your and my
thoughts than your thoughts.(Isaiah 55, NIV) 

Jesus always believes in me, even when sin is scream…

Boasting in my Weakness

In a time when being real is offensive and going off the positive thinking track is unpopular, I am venturing out to lay open my heart in my writing. Vulnerability in these times is costly. Boasting in my limitations, weaknesses, breakdowns, frustrations, perilous.

But I don't boast in my weaknesses and struggles to wallow in them. I don't talk about the valleys I've walked through to mire myself in negativity.

There is something out there these days that really irritates my soul. It is this pressure to always be positive, and continually project strength, even in the church. It's like some people believe that the purpose of the Christian journey is the pursuit of happiness. I think they've gotten the Christian journey confused with the American Dream, even then, the latter has proven to be a failed enterprise.

I don't want to wallow in the dark valleys of my life; neither do I want to project an image that I am always standing tall on the mountain tops, undis…

To my Peeps: A Letter from my heart

My dearest friends,
If, when you read this, you still consider me your friend, I want to say THANK YOU. After last year, I can't take any of the friendships I have for granted. Last year was a very difficult year for Brian and myself, although through it all, Jesus brought huge blessings to our family.

This post is basically an explanation of some of the things that happened, so that if there are misunderstandings, we can iron them out and preserve our friendship. Of course, I can't go into great detail about the things we went through but if you have any questions, please write me and let's talk.

After we became pregnant last March, things became very difficult for Brian and I because I struggled with nausea and 90% of the time I was in bed. This of course confined me to our home and because I was sick and always in bed, it was really difficult for me to see people. I could barely eat anything but literally survived on green apples and Gatorade.

I was constantly worried a…