Who Can't be Helped

This morning I called Mom with a question about a kid we know with severe mental illness. Lots of people had relatively negative experiences with him, but I always felt privileged that he was nice to me and liked me. Maybe it's because he could tell I care? Whatever the case, recently he's done some really drastic things. And he's in a mental health facility.

I asked Mom if she thinks that incurable mental illness exists; she said yes. My instinctive response was to question, "Why?" Why would God let that be a thing; let some of His precious ones live forever trapped in fear or despair, let them live alienated from other people, let them be so sick they can't even understand Him, can't understand love?

Of course, no one has an answer, not even my mother.

She did say something very interesting though, and to me it was compelling: "We try to make 'them' be like 'us' when they can't. Instead we should realize that they can't be like us, and instead of making things harder we should be making their world a safer place."

AMEN.

I just have this huge privilege and burden called compassion. At least, that's what my therapist says.

But the thing is, people are people. I mean, obviously. But the people who will always live in an alternate universe, the ones who don't see the world "normally" are still people too. They still need love even though they quite possibly can't reciprocate, or even understand, it.

They're still people.

And because institutions identify people by their diagnosis(es), because the average person has no idea, because society itself stifles vulnerable honesty, someone needs to speak up. Someone needs to say, "You are a person, a valuable human being and I love you." Someone needs to say, "This person that you discount and malign? This person is my friend and I will fight for them." Someone needs to shout, "We are people! Don't overlook us!" And we all need to say, "I see you. You are priceless."

On the flip side though, everyone has the right to remove themselves from hurt/danger. When dealing with dramatic behavior, no one can afford to be naive. Everyone absolutely deserves safety. Everyone deserves to be treated as the precious, beloved, little one signed by God, that they are.

He loves everyone.

So should I.

Now I'm just waiting to see where this mission from God leads me.

May you all find your mission from God, that one cause that gets your pulse racing and your eyes watering, the single thing that you would fight for with your dying breath. And may you be radically victorious.

~Dolly

Hopeless Dreams

Before you assume by the title that this is a negative post and skim past, STOP! :) It has a happy ending!

Okay, now that that's outta the way, I can get started.

This is an annoyingly rough season of life for me. I, like pretty much every other teenager, at least on the interwebs, am reaching toward adulthood while still clinging to childhood. It feels like hanging in air, holding tight to the future and the past, both of which are moving in different directions. Something's gotta give. And I'm afraid that it'll end up being me.

Add to that my uncertainty about my own emotional stability. I wanna reach toward the future, I really do, but what if I make plans, or actually move out or get a job or something and then depression or anxiety hits and I have no one to be there with me and I can't fulfill my own expectations/obligations which will increase anxiety and I fail a class or get fired? I'm just not yet mature enough to handle adulthood, even though I'm old enough to really, really wanna be in that part of life.

I just realized, as I was typing, that I've been afraid. See? Ya'll are walking my journeys with me!

Anyway.

I just got back from a youth retreat (What up, MyWillamette!) that was focused on fear, and running to Jesus instead of just running period or trying to power through alone.

The last night at campfire, Scott stopped playing guitar/singing "Break Every Chain" (which I slightly hate. Still. Read on.) and said that he felt like God had something to say to someone, he didn't know who. Basically, maybe someone was being chained by something and they just needed reassurance that God can break every chain that binds us. There is power in Jesus' name.

I don't know if that was meant for me, but God spoke to me anyway, and gave me this idea of broken hope. See, I'd been feeling so bound by circumstances, namely depression, that I'd completely given up. I'd entirely forgotten about the part where Jesus says to keep asking, keep bugging God about our problems until they're somehow resolved. I felt like God didn't wanna heal me, didn't care that I was hurting. And I listened to those lying feelings and believed them.

But.

He's showing me (Yes, I'm still learning this. That was just the start of the process.) that those were lies. He can heal me, and He wants to! Maybe my depression won't just go away, but God can heal my heart from this sense of betrayal and trust lost. He can heal my hope. That's the phrase that's been running through my head, and I love it because it's true.

Life's still hard and painful. But I have a God that is in my circumstances with me, but also outside them, and He has power over them! Talk about perspective!

Now comes the hard part of living like this is true. Just because I know something, doesn't mean I can put it into practice right away. I'm most definitely a fallible human bean! But there's still hope, because God's started showing me this truth, and I trust Him to finish this work He's begun in my life. (The Bible, somewhere. Phillipins 1:6- I found it!)

I guess, this was a really long way to say: "Thank You, Lord, for hope. I obviously can't make it through this life without it."


Thanks for reading!

~Dolly