I just finished I Never Promised You A Rose Garden by Joanne Greenberg. It was a true story about a young girl who tries to find her way in life while battling schizophrenia. In the darker days of her mental war - she believed what was inside her mind (a place much like another world all-together, filled with it's own rulers and authorities, friends and demons) was reality and the world outside her "Yr" was a prison in which she was trapped in, and was forced to interact with and pretend to be a part of.
This book uncovered for me the depths and real perceptions people may have to deal with when suffering a mental illness. Drugs only numb their perceptions, and doctors merely try to convince them of their own opinions. It provided me a new-found respect for someone dealing with a mental illness, but the knowledge of how real their perceptions appear to them also greatly frightened me.
Our minds are so powerful, that it can create a whole new reality in which we have no choice but to fall prey to. One passage that truly stuck out to me was when the young girl was beginning to fully understand the world's realities and her made-up "Yr," and when she was attempting with all her might to live "normally" within the world and not fall back on her insanity, she watched the people around her and envied their abilities to make friends, to deal with life's high and low emotions, to find love. She wondered if they truly understood how lucky they were to have those "simple" abilities, something that was so unnatural and difficult to her. She watched as they sang praises and prayed to God - and wondered if they ever thanked Him for providing them with sane minds.
It made me think about my own life and the simple ease I find in making a new friend or catching my husband's eye. How often do I stop and thank the Lord that I have been blessed with a sound mind that is able to function normally in any given situation without causing me to loose sight and hearing and go into convulsions? I think until you read or hear about the life of someone who has truly lived several different lifes in their stay on earth, it's impossible to fully understand how well you have it - how much there is to be thankful for.
May 23, 2011
January 18, 2011
A Premature Eulogy
He was loved. Maybe at times he didn't think so, or know it, but he was loved and deeply cared for all his life. In his younger years he was charismatic and humorous - always the life of the party. It was not hard for him to make friends, what with his love for athleticism and games. He was shy, and deeply self-conscious due to various physical ailments in which he battled since childhood; but most of the time you'd never know it. He carried a confidence and pride on into his latter years that easily became a shield to protect him in the more challenging times.
He was a romantic - in all aspects of life. He loved art and drawing, he loved music of many genres, and shared his passion for music with any who came near. Music became his fortress, a safe place for his mind and soul to escape to when the demands of life became too hard to bear. He loved women, he loved the female nuances. He loved a woman; he was madly in love with her.
She taught him many things in the short time they knew one another, she introduced him to Jesus Christ in a more intimate way than he'd ever known. Through her life, he learned to live, through her death, he learned to survive. She gave him three daughters. Three girls to love and hang on him, harass and annoy him, pick him up and carry him. In each of them, he saw their mother - in all of them, he saw himself. He knew the Lord, and he loved Him. He knew his life was in the Creator's hands at all times, and he found hope in that.
He lived a life that at times seemed burdened and hard-going. There were many days when the onslaught of life's little tragedies seemed to come on again and again like the crashing of waves, but in those trying times he'd still find ways to laugh, he'd still find songs to dance to, he still found moments to be enjoyed. In his darker moments, he kept to himself and did not let many people get too close. In those times he did not know how much he was loved, how many people cared for him.
Today it is known that he was loved. If not by the people around him, always by his Heavenly Father, always by the Author of his days.
I wrote this with my daddy heavily on my heart. He is currently going through some of the darkest days he's yet seen, and in these moments truth and love are difficult to penetrate his mind with. In these darker moments he falls prey to the lies of an even darker voice and those lies perpetually tell him he's of no worth. I wrote this with my heart fully convicted of my love for him and of the desire for him to know the truth. His life is worth the love of blood and sacrifice from a King - and nothing can separate him from that love (Romans 8:38-39)
He was a romantic - in all aspects of life. He loved art and drawing, he loved music of many genres, and shared his passion for music with any who came near. Music became his fortress, a safe place for his mind and soul to escape to when the demands of life became too hard to bear. He loved women, he loved the female nuances. He loved a woman; he was madly in love with her.
She taught him many things in the short time they knew one another, she introduced him to Jesus Christ in a more intimate way than he'd ever known. Through her life, he learned to live, through her death, he learned to survive. She gave him three daughters. Three girls to love and hang on him, harass and annoy him, pick him up and carry him. In each of them, he saw their mother - in all of them, he saw himself. He knew the Lord, and he loved Him. He knew his life was in the Creator's hands at all times, and he found hope in that.
He lived a life that at times seemed burdened and hard-going. There were many days when the onslaught of life's little tragedies seemed to come on again and again like the crashing of waves, but in those trying times he'd still find ways to laugh, he'd still find songs to dance to, he still found moments to be enjoyed. In his darker moments, he kept to himself and did not let many people get too close. In those times he did not know how much he was loved, how many people cared for him.
Today it is known that he was loved. If not by the people around him, always by his Heavenly Father, always by the Author of his days.
I wrote this with my daddy heavily on my heart. He is currently going through some of the darkest days he's yet seen, and in these moments truth and love are difficult to penetrate his mind with. In these darker moments he falls prey to the lies of an even darker voice and those lies perpetually tell him he's of no worth. I wrote this with my heart fully convicted of my love for him and of the desire for him to know the truth. His life is worth the love of blood and sacrifice from a King - and nothing can separate him from that love (Romans 8:38-39)
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