When was a teenager at youth missions training camp, one of the speakers said the following:
Someday, soon, all your desire, purpose and direction will all come together.
—Jim Graaf 1987
That was 21 years ago and I remember it—every word.
and here we are.
Those words seem especially, beautifully true today.
My doctor—a lovely brilliant psychiatrist who has taken care of me for ten years—told me this week that I'm the poster child for recovery from abuse and depression. Her comment surprised me as I was just in for a routine med check I didn't expect to talk about the last ten years, just the last 6 months. But she said it and after a brief flash of shyness I smiled, because I knew it was true.
Then she asks me if I'm writing a book to tell my story because I should.
I tell her yes I am and that I have also been writing a blog for over a year. She smiles and says 'creating a high quality blog takes a lot of work and creative energy' and 'you've worked really hard for this. you should be really proud of yourself'.
I paused and took a deep breath and looked in her kind intelligent eyes and said "Healing is its own reward. But I do receive your affirmation."
We part with smiles on both our faces.
I beam silently all the way to the car. Pausing briefly to stand in the office building lobby and remember all the times I have walked past this lobby to her office. Twenty times at least, ten years with every 6 month med checks and a few extra if I was having a bad episode. I think of the meds I no longer take because I no longer need them. I think about the maintenance meds I do take and how gratefully even keel I am now. How good my normal is. And I start for a split second to tear up with sentiment then I say 'no, this is all about celebration' and I stand there silent and hug myself inside and tell the woman inside of me how proud I am of her. I hear Himself whispering love in my thoughts"Baby girl I am so very very very very very very proud of you." I think of all the times I wanted to give up and didn't. And I smile with joy that can find no words.
I want to jump and cheer like my team just won the Superbowl, but there is a solemn feeling that keeps me from doing so. I think of all the horror and grief I waded through to get to this point and solemn joy seems the appropriate response.
I start to call some of my dearest friends to share the moment, but I close the phone and wait. I have such a profound sense of this being a moment just me and God. I walk to the car and then decide it's time to call Delighted Husband. He's been with me for many years of my journey. Our conversation is brief and affectionate. His pager goes off midsentence and we part with quick iloveyou's.
I have the feeling that something momentous has happened and I feel the urge to do like they did in the Old Testament and build an altar. Pile up some stones and scratch out a plaque that says, "Here God did something for me." Something tangible. So I ask Himself what do I do seeing as how piling up boulders really isn't an option for me. He says, "let's go shopping." So Himself takes me shopping at Target looking for something special to remember this day. "You'll know it when you see it" he says. I go straight to the lingerie department—my natural habitat—but nothing feels particularly "it". I feel led walk over to the athletic section of the store and I pick out 4 adorable colorful jogbras and a matching running skort. A size I couldn't fit 6 months ago.
And I remember for a split second how remarkable it is that celebration and rewarding myself does not automatically equal food. And I grin at this private joke and say to Himself in a teasing tone of voice, "Show off!!" because he really has shown off his power in me.