"Crazy Dave"
That's a moniker that one of my supervisors at work uses for me. Another supervisor has described my personality at work at mellow, and laid back. The "crazy Dave" name is used in jest, as many of my coworkers carry similar nicknames, depending on who your talking about. But whenever I hear it, I laugh to myself and think, "Oh, if only he knew."
Today, I'm up early again as my mind is thinking about the evaluation I will be having. After work this afternoon I am heading to Richland, WA where I will be meeting with the Synod's psychologist tomorrow for an evaluation to determine my readiness to return to pastoral ministry. I'm uncharacteristically at peace with this whole process. I don't perceive a problem. But I do find certain things interesting.
One of the questions on the preliminary interview form that I was asked to fill out was about pornography. "How often do you visit porn sites on the web? Daily? Occasionally? Not at all?" OK, so lets just say to begin with that viewing porn sites is generally "frowned upon in this establishment" that is our home. Not only that, without having to rely on personal experience of porn sites, over my years in the ministry I have dealt with the harmful effects of porn in my parishioner's lives. "Women like to be taken by force" is an actual statement made to a woman in my congregation by her spouse. That man did not learn that from women, I can assure you, but from porn sites, no doubt.
As I've thought about that question though, I'm reminded of something I was told back in seminary days, during Clinical Pastoral Education, that psychological tests often have questions that are designed to measure, not any particular response, but the basic honesty with which the test is being answered. "If you could get away with it, would you keep money that was not yours?" was one such question. The assumption is that if we are being totally honest, all of us would do that given the opportunity, and the purpose of the question is to see if we're being honest enough to admit that. I'm suspicious that the question about porn may be a similar "truth barometer".
(For the record, as an adolescent victim of an abusive relationship with a band director, I was exposed to an unhealthy dose of pornography. For example, he took me to "Clockwork Orange" while I was in junior high. I found out then that the eroticism of porn is always mixed with its repulsiveness.)
I'm also going to be taking the MMPI. Is that the one that asks repeatedly about whether or not you look at your stools after going to the bathroom? I took one test years ago that did. Repeatedly. I thought that whoever wrote this test sure has a fascination with people's potty habits.
All that aside, as I anticipate going through yet another evaluation I find myself confronted with the question of presentation. When I was being evaluated for disability, those conducting the interviews were primarily interested in any sign of health that would enable them to deny my disability. When being screened for fitness to return to work, there would be a natural tendency to focus on any evidence that would call into question whether I am ready. And so there is this question of presentation, specifically, do you try to present yourself in a positive or negative light, depending on the nature of the evaluation. When I was being evaluated for qualifying for disability benefits it is natural to focus on those things that prohibit one from functioning in a healthy manner. As I'm being evaluated now for fitness to reenter the ministry, it is natural to try and present myself in a positive light, minimizing any difficulties.
Somewhere in the middle, lies the truth. (Isn't that an interesting phrase? "Lies the truth.") There is part of me that longs for a comprehensive neutral evaluation. Not skewed for any particular outcome, but which genuinely deals with the full spectrum of how I'm doing, without prejudice.
I think that if we can get to that, the conclusion would be something like this. Through extensive use of medication and therapy, he's made significant progress in stabilizing his mood swings and is generally in a healthy place, though there will always be the risk that his moods could destabilize again due to certain triggers. Continued monitoring and managing through medication and therapy will alleviate much of that risk, though not all.
Well, we'll see.
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Sunday, July 24, 2016
Torn between two lovers. . .
I'm happy to report that my insomnia has greatly improved now that I have gone back on Rozerem. I actually slept all the way through the night on one occasion last week. Thankfully, my wife heard my phone buzzing as I forgot and left it on vibrate. That is only the second time in the last year that I have slept until the alarm rang. I used to be able to sleep well into the morning. Waking was hard, as was going to sleep. But once asleep, I could remain asleep for 8 to 10 hours. Today, I count it as a great accomplishment to sleep till the alarm rings at 3:45 am. That's sleeping in.
This morning I awoke at 1:15 or so. I laid back down for an hour. But then, back up.
Part of the struggle is that I've grown to love the night. I love the silent solitude. The time to meditate. To reflect. To write.
And yet, when I sleep through the night, I'm much more productive during the day. It feels good.
The ongoing struggle with sleep is a reminder to me that, though I generally feel much better than I have in the past, there is still that ever present issue of my mental illness. Manic times come and go. As does the depression. But the sleep disorder has been a constant.
"May cause drowsiness. . ." Four of my primary medications carry this warning. When my physicians look at the list of drugs that I am on, their reaction tends to be that anyone of them should be sufficient to knock me out. It would a normal person. For example, Rozerem is a melatonin based medication, but, according to my doctor, 12,000 times more potent than the melatonin you can buy as a sleep aid. And it helps. But that is on top of three additional medications, some of which are themselves prescribed as sleep aids. My brain seems to be like the Everready bunny - it just keeps on going. . .
Would that I could consistently sleep through the night. And yet there would be a loss if I did. That's my time. Its when I think, and write. A sermon that might take a good portion of the day to write, flows freely and quickly in the night.
But I realize that there is something else going on. Its a matter of identity. This time has started to shape my identity. As desperately as I want to sleep, there is also part of me that refuses to give up this part of my life. Its a bit of a conundrum.
Acceptance is one of the things I am learning through all of this. Take each day as it comes. There is little to be gained by wishing a particular day was different than it was. Some nights I sleep better than others. Some nights I enjoy the solitude and time to reflect.
One of the things that comes with that acceptance, is that it is a hedge against depression. A major part of depression comes from the desire that things be different than they are, and the disappointment that they are not.
To accept each day as it unfolds is to receive it with gratitude. And a grateful heart is not a depressed heart. And so today, this night, I'll simply give thanks for this time. Perhaps in a while I'll be able to rest some more. Perhaps, not. It is what it is. And that's alright.
This morning I awoke at 1:15 or so. I laid back down for an hour. But then, back up.
Part of the struggle is that I've grown to love the night. I love the silent solitude. The time to meditate. To reflect. To write.
And yet, when I sleep through the night, I'm much more productive during the day. It feels good.
The ongoing struggle with sleep is a reminder to me that, though I generally feel much better than I have in the past, there is still that ever present issue of my mental illness. Manic times come and go. As does the depression. But the sleep disorder has been a constant.
"May cause drowsiness. . ." Four of my primary medications carry this warning. When my physicians look at the list of drugs that I am on, their reaction tends to be that anyone of them should be sufficient to knock me out. It would a normal person. For example, Rozerem is a melatonin based medication, but, according to my doctor, 12,000 times more potent than the melatonin you can buy as a sleep aid. And it helps. But that is on top of three additional medications, some of which are themselves prescribed as sleep aids. My brain seems to be like the Everready bunny - it just keeps on going. . .
Would that I could consistently sleep through the night. And yet there would be a loss if I did. That's my time. Its when I think, and write. A sermon that might take a good portion of the day to write, flows freely and quickly in the night.
But I realize that there is something else going on. Its a matter of identity. This time has started to shape my identity. As desperately as I want to sleep, there is also part of me that refuses to give up this part of my life. Its a bit of a conundrum.
Acceptance is one of the things I am learning through all of this. Take each day as it comes. There is little to be gained by wishing a particular day was different than it was. Some nights I sleep better than others. Some nights I enjoy the solitude and time to reflect.
One of the things that comes with that acceptance, is that it is a hedge against depression. A major part of depression comes from the desire that things be different than they are, and the disappointment that they are not.
To accept each day as it unfolds is to receive it with gratitude. And a grateful heart is not a depressed heart. And so today, this night, I'll simply give thanks for this time. Perhaps in a while I'll be able to rest some more. Perhaps, not. It is what it is. And that's alright.
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Tranquility
It creeps up on you. And then one day you realize that life is well. All is calm.
Of course, those who have been reading my blog know that it has not always been that way.
For me, one of the signs that things are much better is that I'm not sure if I should even be writing any more, or if I do, what should I write about. Oh, my, no crisis, no clear manifestation of this disease, nothing that I could categorize according to the six major symptoms of mania, nor am I exhibiting signs of depression.
Sleep remains a problem. True. But it always has been. I met with my neurologist, the sleep specialist on Friday, and I came to a conclusion. When I lost insurance coverage for mental illness I also lost coverage for the one medication that had showed promise of really helping my insomnia - Rozerem. At a cost of $300 or so per month, I felt at the time that I simply couldn't afford to continue it. Now, with the hope that our financial situation will be improving, I am more convinced that $10 a day is a small price to pay, with or without insurance, to address this one last symptom. And to be brutally honest, sleeping through the night would substantially reduce my smoking, and the cost thereof, offsetting some of the cost of the medication. And so I'm going to try it.
The evaluations that I'm going through relative to my health are proceeding at a snail's pace. First, my doctors, like so many, simply didn't drop everything to submit their reports to the Synod's psychologist. Now that they have been submitted, the Synod's psychologist is out of town for a few weeks. That said, unlike prior evaluations, I'm surprisingly calm regarding this one.
Part of that is in the living. The purpose of this latest evaluation is to determine if I've stabilized enough to resume pastoral ministry. And as the evaluation is unfolding, I am already serving a congregation as a supply pastor, and anticipate that this role will become an interim pastor. If I'm successfully engaged in pastoral ministry, then that becomes a rather significant piece of the evaluation, doesn't it? "Can he do it? Well, he is doing it."
And so why write a blog post? What's to report?
It is possible, with appropriate medication and therapeutic support, for the mentally ill to stabilize and live a normal, functional, and yes, tranquil life.
I think that needs to be said.
It needs to be said in order to provide hope for people like me, during those times when it seems like the cycling and suffering will never stop.
It needs to be said so that some of the stigma related to mental illness may be alleviated.
Meanwhile, I will lead worship and preach in a few hours. Monday morning I will go to my job in Hayden. I will come home after the 10 hour shift, tired, but not depressed. I will take a quick nap. Have dinner. Relax, And go to bed. Then do it all over again.
In the midst of all this, there are those opportunities to enjoy our grandchild, (and children).
All very normal things.
Rather good for a change.
Of course, those who have been reading my blog know that it has not always been that way.
For me, one of the signs that things are much better is that I'm not sure if I should even be writing any more, or if I do, what should I write about. Oh, my, no crisis, no clear manifestation of this disease, nothing that I could categorize according to the six major symptoms of mania, nor am I exhibiting signs of depression.
Sleep remains a problem. True. But it always has been. I met with my neurologist, the sleep specialist on Friday, and I came to a conclusion. When I lost insurance coverage for mental illness I also lost coverage for the one medication that had showed promise of really helping my insomnia - Rozerem. At a cost of $300 or so per month, I felt at the time that I simply couldn't afford to continue it. Now, with the hope that our financial situation will be improving, I am more convinced that $10 a day is a small price to pay, with or without insurance, to address this one last symptom. And to be brutally honest, sleeping through the night would substantially reduce my smoking, and the cost thereof, offsetting some of the cost of the medication. And so I'm going to try it.
The evaluations that I'm going through relative to my health are proceeding at a snail's pace. First, my doctors, like so many, simply didn't drop everything to submit their reports to the Synod's psychologist. Now that they have been submitted, the Synod's psychologist is out of town for a few weeks. That said, unlike prior evaluations, I'm surprisingly calm regarding this one.
Part of that is in the living. The purpose of this latest evaluation is to determine if I've stabilized enough to resume pastoral ministry. And as the evaluation is unfolding, I am already serving a congregation as a supply pastor, and anticipate that this role will become an interim pastor. If I'm successfully engaged in pastoral ministry, then that becomes a rather significant piece of the evaluation, doesn't it? "Can he do it? Well, he is doing it."
And so why write a blog post? What's to report?
It is possible, with appropriate medication and therapeutic support, for the mentally ill to stabilize and live a normal, functional, and yes, tranquil life.
I think that needs to be said.
It needs to be said in order to provide hope for people like me, during those times when it seems like the cycling and suffering will never stop.
It needs to be said so that some of the stigma related to mental illness may be alleviated.
Meanwhile, I will lead worship and preach in a few hours. Monday morning I will go to my job in Hayden. I will come home after the 10 hour shift, tired, but not depressed. I will take a quick nap. Have dinner. Relax, And go to bed. Then do it all over again.
In the midst of all this, there are those opportunities to enjoy our grandchild, (and children).
All very normal things.
Rather good for a change.
Sunday, July 3, 2016
"Pastor Dave"
Its not my first rodeo, but perhaps one of my most significant.
In a few hours I will greet the congregation at Peace Lutheran in Otis Orchards and begin a relationship that could last a few weeks, months, perhaps even longer.
And I will have the privilege of introducing myself once again as "Pastor Dave".
To a certain extent, leading worship again will be like riding a bicycle. No matter how much time has past, the mechanics of it all will be second nature, and I will feel at home, once again.
But this matter of "Pastor Dave". During the last few years I have had to make some adjustments. I have been somewhat uncomfortable being referred to as pastor in the congregation we've been attending in Newport. I may still be on the clergy roster, but I was not called to be their pastor. I've served as treasurer and signed my name to reports as simply "Dave Olson". There was a concerted effort to recreate my identity apart from the office of pastor.
And yet I also have found myself clinging to that identity as well. My email address is pastordavidolson@gmail.com. I turned to blogging because I needed to keep writing about that which matters. It was a pulpit that was available to me. "Pastor Dave" lived on in the wee hours of the morning at this keyboard.
What will be different today is that when people address me as "Pastor Dave", it will carry with it the connotation once again that its not just about my personal identity, but it will speak to a relationship with a congregation. That is significant.
All this being said, I'm a different person today, than I was on January 27th, 2013. (My last Sunday at First Lutheran.)
Today, I think I know better the meaning of "'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.' So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me."
There is a part of me that feels vulnerable because of all I've publicly shared about my journey with being bipolar on this site and elsewhere as well. I find myself wondering if those from Otis Orchards have explored my Facebook page, and learned of all my struggles. And if so, what is their judgment?
That being said, I think it fair to say that for any congregation to fully embrace me as their pastor, they will need to know me as a person as well. To withhold a significant part of who I am from them, is to hold them at a distance.
But there is a witness in all of this as well. God's grace will be sufficient. Our own weaknesses actually serve the purpose of helping us to more fully depend, not on our own abilities, but on the power of God. I am reminded of John the Baptist's words: "I am not the Messiah." Just a voice crying out in the wilderness.
And in my weakness, bearing witness to the one who has all power.
"Pastor Dave" they will call me.
And with the words "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all" the service will begin.
"Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ."
And in the midst of these well worn words, I will find my voice once again, which is actually not my voice at all.
That's my prayer, this morning.
Amen
In a few hours I will greet the congregation at Peace Lutheran in Otis Orchards and begin a relationship that could last a few weeks, months, perhaps even longer.
And I will have the privilege of introducing myself once again as "Pastor Dave".
To a certain extent, leading worship again will be like riding a bicycle. No matter how much time has past, the mechanics of it all will be second nature, and I will feel at home, once again.
But this matter of "Pastor Dave". During the last few years I have had to make some adjustments. I have been somewhat uncomfortable being referred to as pastor in the congregation we've been attending in Newport. I may still be on the clergy roster, but I was not called to be their pastor. I've served as treasurer and signed my name to reports as simply "Dave Olson". There was a concerted effort to recreate my identity apart from the office of pastor.
And yet I also have found myself clinging to that identity as well. My email address is pastordavidolson@gmail.com. I turned to blogging because I needed to keep writing about that which matters. It was a pulpit that was available to me. "Pastor Dave" lived on in the wee hours of the morning at this keyboard.
What will be different today is that when people address me as "Pastor Dave", it will carry with it the connotation once again that its not just about my personal identity, but it will speak to a relationship with a congregation. That is significant.
All this being said, I'm a different person today, than I was on January 27th, 2013. (My last Sunday at First Lutheran.)
Today, I think I know better the meaning of "'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.' So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me."
There is a part of me that feels vulnerable because of all I've publicly shared about my journey with being bipolar on this site and elsewhere as well. I find myself wondering if those from Otis Orchards have explored my Facebook page, and learned of all my struggles. And if so, what is their judgment?
That being said, I think it fair to say that for any congregation to fully embrace me as their pastor, they will need to know me as a person as well. To withhold a significant part of who I am from them, is to hold them at a distance.
But there is a witness in all of this as well. God's grace will be sufficient. Our own weaknesses actually serve the purpose of helping us to more fully depend, not on our own abilities, but on the power of God. I am reminded of John the Baptist's words: "I am not the Messiah." Just a voice crying out in the wilderness.
And in my weakness, bearing witness to the one who has all power.
"Pastor Dave" they will call me.
And with the words "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all" the service will begin.
"Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ."
And in the midst of these well worn words, I will find my voice once again, which is actually not my voice at all.
That's my prayer, this morning.
Amen
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Vision & Grandiosity
A healthy balance. That's what we are after. Not too high, not too low, just be content to be in the middle. Breathe deeply. Watch for the extremes. Ah, life.
Sunday I will be supply preaching at a congregation and will continue with them through the month of July. This gig could also develop into an interim ministry. It marks the possibility of a real turning point in my life, the return to active ministry of Word and Sacrament. It is exciting.
There remain lots of questions. My medical team has spent considerable effort over the last three and a half years justifying my being on disability and with that giving me the opportunity to have a financial safety net and the space and time to focus on healing and health. Portico Benefits has now repeatedly rendered their opinion that I no longer qualify for those benefits, that I'm healthy enough to return to work.
This puts my medical team in an interesting situation. Do they follow Portico's lead and change their position? "Permanently disabled" was a term once used. Its true to one extent. Bipolar disorder is a permanent condition. But the whole point of being under the care and treatment plan of a psychiatrist and psychologist is to stabilize that condition and get to the point where one is able to function fully. I look at it from the standpoint of relative health. I'm in a much better place than I was 3 years ago, even 1 year ago. It seems to be working.
And so I'm excited about the opportunity to resume pastoral ministry in a more substantial way.
And then my mind starts racing with the visions of what that might look like.
Here's where it gets tricky. God has given me the ability to always see potential and possibility. I'm never content to simply maintain things the way they are. Even prior to any significant interaction with the congregation in question, I start envisioning possibilities. I think that can be a good thing, to a certain extent, especially if it is subject to a reality check as I get to know the congregation. But to be excited about the future is a good thing.
The caution flag though, is to not allow my excitement to morph into grandiosity and a manic episode. Breathe deeply. Take medication. Be realistic. Take one day at a time. Do the next right thing. The Kingdom of God may be at hand, but don't try to single handedly bring it about.
Preach the word. Teach. Care for the congregation. Lead as you are called to lead. Follow as the time is right to follow. Be content with what are in fact realistic expectations and small steps forward. Not the time to envision a mega-church. How about focusing on something like a decent web site.
I don't know what the future holds.
What I do know is that Sunday, I will be called Pastor Dave once again.
And that feels good.
Sunday I will be supply preaching at a congregation and will continue with them through the month of July. This gig could also develop into an interim ministry. It marks the possibility of a real turning point in my life, the return to active ministry of Word and Sacrament. It is exciting.
There remain lots of questions. My medical team has spent considerable effort over the last three and a half years justifying my being on disability and with that giving me the opportunity to have a financial safety net and the space and time to focus on healing and health. Portico Benefits has now repeatedly rendered their opinion that I no longer qualify for those benefits, that I'm healthy enough to return to work.
This puts my medical team in an interesting situation. Do they follow Portico's lead and change their position? "Permanently disabled" was a term once used. Its true to one extent. Bipolar disorder is a permanent condition. But the whole point of being under the care and treatment plan of a psychiatrist and psychologist is to stabilize that condition and get to the point where one is able to function fully. I look at it from the standpoint of relative health. I'm in a much better place than I was 3 years ago, even 1 year ago. It seems to be working.
And so I'm excited about the opportunity to resume pastoral ministry in a more substantial way.
And then my mind starts racing with the visions of what that might look like.
Here's where it gets tricky. God has given me the ability to always see potential and possibility. I'm never content to simply maintain things the way they are. Even prior to any significant interaction with the congregation in question, I start envisioning possibilities. I think that can be a good thing, to a certain extent, especially if it is subject to a reality check as I get to know the congregation. But to be excited about the future is a good thing.
The caution flag though, is to not allow my excitement to morph into grandiosity and a manic episode. Breathe deeply. Take medication. Be realistic. Take one day at a time. Do the next right thing. The Kingdom of God may be at hand, but don't try to single handedly bring it about.
Preach the word. Teach. Care for the congregation. Lead as you are called to lead. Follow as the time is right to follow. Be content with what are in fact realistic expectations and small steps forward. Not the time to envision a mega-church. How about focusing on something like a decent web site.
I don't know what the future holds.
What I do know is that Sunday, I will be called Pastor Dave once again.
And that feels good.
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Snapshots of a moving target
Being evaluated. This is one of the least enjoyable aspects of being bipolar.
The latest update on my disability claim is that Portico Benefits continues to maintain that I am not disabled, and nothing is preventing me from working. That said, I'm willing to accept that judgment if in fact nothing is preventing my from working.
To that I'm going through a second round of evaluations, this by the psychologist that does assessments for the Synod's candidacy committee. A positive outcome of this evaluation would clear me to resume ministry in at least some capacity. My hopes are that both evaluations reach the same conclusion. What I don't want is for Portico to say there is nothing preventing me from work, so I don't qualify for benefits, while the church says that being bipolar is a significant enough impediment to being able to perform pastoral responsibilities that they cannot recommend me for call.
One of the things that is difficult is determining the parameters of information that is relevant to an evaluation today. The disability people have always been very limited in what they would accept -- "How is he doing today, or for the last month?" They do not want a history. They are not interested in how I was six months ago. They only want to consider current status.
While trying to qualify for disability benefits this was a challenge. Bipolar people cycle through moods, and it might be months (even years) between the peaks and valleys. "Today's mood" is not the whole picture.
Now that I'm being evaluated for returning to ministry, my doctors have a similar question to answer. Do they render an opinion based on today, or on the whole history of my involvement with them? Today I may be able to handle ministry, even challenging ministry, just fine. But in that cycling is part of being bipolar, there is no guarantee that I won't cycle back into either a depressed mood or a manic episode.
My hopes are that the medications that I am on have provided sufficient stability as to minimize that risk. But the only way to really know is to be thrown back into the thick of it, into stressful situations that are known to be triggers for me, and to see how I react.
But even that is a little misleading because I'm a polished professional at internalizing feelings, and not letting them get to me, that is, not letting you know they are getting to me, all the while they are eating me up inside.
I want to resume ministry. It is what I feel called to do.
The best that I can offer by way of assurance to the Church is this:
The latest update on my disability claim is that Portico Benefits continues to maintain that I am not disabled, and nothing is preventing me from working. That said, I'm willing to accept that judgment if in fact nothing is preventing my from working.
To that I'm going through a second round of evaluations, this by the psychologist that does assessments for the Synod's candidacy committee. A positive outcome of this evaluation would clear me to resume ministry in at least some capacity. My hopes are that both evaluations reach the same conclusion. What I don't want is for Portico to say there is nothing preventing me from work, so I don't qualify for benefits, while the church says that being bipolar is a significant enough impediment to being able to perform pastoral responsibilities that they cannot recommend me for call.
One of the things that is difficult is determining the parameters of information that is relevant to an evaluation today. The disability people have always been very limited in what they would accept -- "How is he doing today, or for the last month?" They do not want a history. They are not interested in how I was six months ago. They only want to consider current status.
While trying to qualify for disability benefits this was a challenge. Bipolar people cycle through moods, and it might be months (even years) between the peaks and valleys. "Today's mood" is not the whole picture.
Now that I'm being evaluated for returning to ministry, my doctors have a similar question to answer. Do they render an opinion based on today, or on the whole history of my involvement with them? Today I may be able to handle ministry, even challenging ministry, just fine. But in that cycling is part of being bipolar, there is no guarantee that I won't cycle back into either a depressed mood or a manic episode.
My hopes are that the medications that I am on have provided sufficient stability as to minimize that risk. But the only way to really know is to be thrown back into the thick of it, into stressful situations that are known to be triggers for me, and to see how I react.
But even that is a little misleading because I'm a polished professional at internalizing feelings, and not letting them get to me, that is, not letting you know they are getting to me, all the while they are eating me up inside.
I want to resume ministry. It is what I feel called to do.
The best that I can offer by way of assurance to the Church is this:
- I will continue therapy and accept the assistance of my medical team to monitor my moods, and their help to stabilize those moods should they swing out of the normal spectrum;
- I will remain on medication to further help stabilize the moods;
- I will be attentive to my own 'red flags' that are indicators that I'm experiencing depression or mania and seek immediate help if I am;
- And finally, though I hope this isn't the outcome, if I can't do it, I will graciously accept that.
Here is where my personal faith and piety also enters in. I honestly believe that I can serve, even with this "thorn in my flesh" because God's power is "made perfect in weakness". To put it differently, I believe that those whom God calls to ministry, God also equips for ministry.
That's what gives me the courage to proceed at this time. Knowing that God's grace will be sufficient.
Thursday, June 9, 2016
Do not torment me.
(I am sharing this post from my other blog because of its relevance. You can find that blog at wanderingsthroughtheword.com)
Name the names if you must, just do not torment me with but another promise of a cure if all you can offer is a diagnosis.
Name the names if you must, just do not torment me with but another promise of a cure if all you can offer is a diagnosis.
The hardest thing is the recognition and acceptance of diseases, chronic in nature, and which allow only a promise that you can learn to live with them, manage them, but never cure them.
I am drawn to these texts about demonic possession in the bible in a different way since being diagnosed with a variety of mental health disorders. I'm one who believes that in Jesus' day, such disorders were personified as 'demons'. Our world view has changed. We are less likely to personify such things. Diseases not demons. But by whatever name you call them, or how you personify them, the simple truth is this: that they can take over our life in ways that our very identity with which we have lived is replaced by another whom we do not know.
Dysthymic disorder; major depression, unresponsive; suicidal ideation; chemical dependency; chronic insomnia; post traumatic stress disorder; general anxiety disorder; bipolar disorder;-- and the list of names could go on: first tier, second tier, third tier, etc. . Each one of those manifesting symptoms, such as manic episodes, defining the days of our lives and shaping our behaviors in ways that do not seem to be true to who we actually are, or at least who we thought we were. Personal identity is the ultimate casualty of such suffering. This is who I am. Live with it.
And then comes the one who calls out the demons, naming them by name.
And into the swine those demons go. Ever wonder what a bipolar pig is like?
There is something missing in this text, implied but missing. We know this man only as the Gerasene demoniac. What is your name? And the man said "Legion", for many were the demons that had possessed him. What I wish were there is Jesus speaking the man's true name, and in doing so, calling forth his true identity.
"David!"
And might we add to that "David, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ, forever."
Of all the things that could be said in response to mental illness, perhaps this is the most important. The "you" is sealed by the Holy Spirit, sealed off from the threat of all those other spirits that would seize our identity. Sealed by the Holy Spirit, marked with the cross of Christ, our identity forever rooted in him.
Interesting that the swine rushed down the hill, plunged into the lake, and were drowned. I never heard a baptismal sermon preached on this text. But there it is. And out of the water comes a man, in his right mind, or shall I say, "righteous".
It is dangerous for one who is mentally ill to declare oneself healed. Many a bipolar person has experience disastrous consequences because they became convinced they were healed and ceased their medication. The truth is that some of these diseases are chronic, they will not just go away. But, they need not define our identity or claim our souls.
I am not my disease. That is not my name. I don't know who "Legion" is, but it is not me.
"David, child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ, forever."
That is healing enough for me.
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