Holy Mess, Whole Me

When I shared our story recently, I wrote from a place of deep grief and confusion. The hurt of watching my husband be asked to resign was raw and overwhelming. In that pain, I poured out what was heavy on my heart. And while this did take place after he admitted his ongoing struggles with depression and mental health challenges, there was more to that initial conversation that was overshadowed, and perhaps, not communicated as clearly as it could have been.

Looking back, I realize that in moments like these, it’s easy for feelings to be misrepresented or misunderstood. As several people in my life keep telling me “Feelings aren’t facts” (P.S. That is quickly becoming my LEAST favorite saying in the universe!) I don’t want to give the impression that every person in our association or every leader in the various churches have acted without compassion. More over, I don’t want to give the impression that ANY person in our association or ANY leader in the churhces have acted without compassion. That would simply not be true. Many people have shown us love, support, and encouragement, and we are deeply thankful for them.

Something else has also happened since I first shared: we had the opportunity to sit down with a local pastor, someone who was also part of the team that made the difficult decision about my husband’s role. Someone who has shown us love, support, and care over the course of our 6 years here in our local community. That conversation was not easy ( I ugly cried right there in his office for over an hour), but it was necessary. Through open communication, clarification, and honesty, some of the fog has begun to lift. The pain is still real, but that dialogue was a first step toward healing. For that, I am truly grateful. More than anyone will ever possibly understand.

I will be the first person to admit that when I am hurt or angry I find it a heck of a lot easier to just isolate, hide, and separate myself from anyone and everyone. The feeling that it is mor important to protect myself and my family from more pain and tribulation. However if if this experience has reminded me of anything it is that reconciliation does not come from silence, avoidance, or assumptions. It comes through communication. Sometimes that means hard conversations, but those conversations can be the very thing God uses to bring understanding where there was confusion and peace where there was bitterness.

I still believe strongly that mental health is health and I still believe that there was some minor aspect of those voiced challenges that played a factor in the overall decision that was made. However, I don’t belive that it was the whole of the decision and I don’t believe that it even carried the bulk of the weight in the decision. With that in mind though, seeking help does not disqualify anyone from being loved, supported, or used by God. In fact, I believe it is often in our weakness that His grace shines the brightest. My prayer is that over time believers will continue to grow in how we respond to these needs—with compassion rather than distance, with encouragement rather than shame.

We are not “through” this season yet, but we are already seeing how God can bring good even out of deep hurt. Healing has begun. Trust is being rebuilt, slowly but surely. And hope is rising—hope that what we’ve walked through will not be wasted, but will instead help others know they are not alone.