This is Depression In Our House

The news has been flooded the last two days.

With stories of Robin William's suicide.

And battle with depression.

I thought he was genius.

He was.

And I grew up watching him on television and movies.

Incredibly sad.

To see someone lose hope and end their life.

But.

Good things......can come from tragedy.

And in this case.

A discussion has started.

It's been all over social media today.

People sharing and being transparent.

About their own battle with this disease.

I'm doing the same.

Depression is something I know very well.

It's been a part of my life for some time.

I've grown in my understanding of it.

And I recognize it.

In the lives of people.

Around me.

You see.

The most important person in life.

My husband, Scott.

Has battled it for years.

If you don't know my family well.

That might come as a surprise.

He's one of the last people you would......expect.

To battle this disease.

Fun loving......huge personality.

Often the life of the party.

People are drawn to his humor.

And his faith.

But.

It just goes to show.

Depression is very real.

And extremely prevalent.

It's a disease.

And no one is immune from it.




Tonight's post is in Scott's words.

In hopes others will relate.

Or reach out for the help they may need.

This is depression in our house:

"It took me quite by surprise.
Had I been able to see it coming,
I never would have expected it,
This feeling I have.

And it's all about a man I never met.
But loved nevertheless.

Robin Williams was always one of my favorites.
I believe I saw everything he ever did.
As an actor and comedienne.

I even remember listening to his routines on vinyl records.
When I was a teenager.

To think of some of things he did.
Makes me laugh.
Even now.

Robin Williams is gone.

His comedy.
His genius.
His energy.
Gone.

The saddest part.
It wasn't his bad heart that killed him.
But his broken mind.
He took his own life because of depression.

All day I have heard people say.
I don't get it.

How can someone with so much take their own life?

I would love to be able to say.
That I too. 
Don't understand.

But I can't.

I understand all too well.

I too suffer from depression.

If you asked.
Most people who know me.
Would probably say.
I'm the guy that has it all together.

Married 32 years to my high school sweetheart,
Still the love of my life.

Two beautiful, talented, amazing daughters.
Good job.
Lots of friends.
Great house.
From a good family.
Never in any trouble.
No addictions.
Always laughing and joking.
Until it was time to be serious.

In all truth.
I am indeed blessed by God.
And I have tried for years.
To share that blessing with others.

But for 26 years.
I have suffered from clinical depression.

It first came on me during a time of loss.

It seemed like the blues that attack everyone.
From time to time.

And for short periods it would go away.

The sun would rise again in my soul.
And I would be my old self.

But the darkness always returned.
Often for no reason at all.

Other than being tired or stressed.
Everything is fine.

And then the voice in my head would simply say.

You know this won't last.
Or.
You know you don't deserve this.
And at it's worst.

You know they would be better off if you weren't here.

Yes.
I know why Robin did it.

You see many might be surprised.
To know that I've made those dark plans.
I've reasoned it out in my broken mind.

I've checked through my plans to make sure the insurance would pay off.
And that it would look like an accident.

But the intent.
The thought.
Was I just couldn't do it anymore.

Life in the dark.
Life without hope.
Was just too hard to comprehend.

I just wanted peace.
I wanted the storm in my head to stop.

I wanted to go home.

God's word says.
Where there is no hope, the people perish.

I know what that looks like.

Understand.
I have no life problems.
And that's the crazy thing.

My love for my amazing wife.
Is deep and lasting.
And our marriage is strong.

My kids are incredible.
I have money in the bank.

But a depressed mind.
Pays no attention to what is real.

A depressed mind.
Makes up demons to haunt the night.

A depressed mind sees problems that are not there.

And believe me.
There is no shaking it off.
No giving it time.
No pulling yourself up.
And getting it together.

This is a disease that must be fought.
Hard and proactively.

There is no shame in counseling and medication.

There is no weakness in asking for help.

There is nothing more important.

Than talking to those you love.
And someone that has been there.

Trust me.
I do it all the time.

Maybe you read this and you say.
I get that.
Or.
Me too.

Please find help.

Know that there is hope.

And yes, at times.
It's an every day fight.
But it's worth fighting.

So get help.
As I have.

And so tonight.
I pray for Robin Williams.
I pray that he knew Jesus Christ.
I pray that he found peace in the arms of God.

I pray that one day I might get to meet Robin.
And share a laugh....

Because God is gracious.
And His hope spring eternal.

After all.
His blessings are new every morning."

Scott Dublin
August 12, 2014

Jumping to Conclusions

I've been on the receiving end of a lesson in recent months.

The importance.

Of not jumping to conclusions.

I've done that.

Quite a lot.

When I don't have the whole story.

Or the entire picture.

I color in the unknown.

With speculation.

And guess.

I make assumptions.

And if I'm not careful.

Those assumptions turn into counterfeit truth.



For a stretch of time.

I've been on the receiving end.

When it's been done to me.

My work often offers me that opportunity.

Lucky me!

It happens.

Others evaluate.

Size me up.

Make assumptions.

And sometimes judgments.

About my decisions.

Or what I've done.

Subject to the analysis of others.

It happens.

But.

It doesn't always feel good.

To be on the receiving end.

When people don't have the whole story.

But they go ahead and draw their own conclusions.

Based on the incomplete.

Or the limited perspective.

And it may be.

Maybe many times.

Entirely.

Off base.



Knowing that's been my experience of late.

A similar opportunity found its way to me.

Imagine that.

God allowing me to be the recipient.

And then finding myself as the initiator.



Coincidence?

Mmmm....

Not so much..... most likely.

A situation came across my path.

I didn't have all the facts.

I had only bits and pieces.

And I stepped into it.

Happily.

Easily.

With a creative imagination.

And started drawing my own conclusions.

Loosely based on the "incomplete."

The "partial."

And before I knew it.

An entire scenario was played out in my mind.

And I created my own version of the truth.

What I thought happened.

Doing the same thing.

That had recently been done to me.



Until.

(and this is the part that stings)

He reminded me.

Now.....

Is that really what happened?

Do you really know that for a fact?

Come on.

Are you filling in the gaps and spaces?

And jumping to.....conclusions.

Of how you think.....that went down ?



And I took a breath.

And stepped back.

Reminded of the injustice I felt myself.

When it was being directed at me.

Didn't feel so good then, huh?

I stopped.

And reconsidered.

And gave the person in this situation.

A much deserved break.

That illusive thing not offered.....very often.

The benefit of my doubt.



Oh.

I wanted it offered to me.

And didn't understand why it wasn't!

But, offering it to someone else?

Not so much.

Not so often.



Jumping to conclusions?

Or stopping to reconsider?

Lesson learned?

Or lesson missed?

Vibrantly Alive & In My Livingroom

This morning.

About 5:15 a.m.

I walked through my dark house.

Headed with a cup of coffee.

Toward my chair in the living room.

My time with Jesus.

Early.

Before anybody else is up.

I reached for the lamp.

And turned it on.

And settled back to get comfortable.

Tucking my feet up under me.

I turned to my devotion.

July 25th.

"Jesus Calling" by Sarah Young.

And I read the first sentence.

"As you listen to birds calling to one another, hear also My love
 call to you..."


And without any notice.

It SHOT UP beside me.

Out of no where.

I about JUMPED out of my chair.

A fluttering, humming movement.

Directly at eye level.

Inches away.


A HUMMINGBIRD!

In my house.

At 5:15 a.m.

Hovering right beside me.

Whattttttt??????


I was hardly awake enough to process what I saw.

It hung there near the lamp.

In mid air.

Humming.

Yeah.....that sound that hummingbirds make.

And quickly.

It descended to land.

No joke.

On the arm of the chair I was sitting in.

Incredible.


Where in the world did you come from?

It had to be my porch door.

I prop it open in the morning.

So my cats can come and go as they please.

And my cats??

No where to be found.

Amazing! but they missed it.


Geez.

Okay.

What do I do with you?

I eased carefully out of the chair.

He stayed put.....amazingly.

And I went to the kitchen.

How in the world will I catch you?

Right!!

Not very likely.

But I returned anyway.

Garbage bag in hand.

I didn't want to hurt him.

I just wanted to help him outside.


And as I walked back into the room.

He had vanished.

No evidence of him.

No reappearance.

Gone.




You'd have to know me.

But......I always try to figure out the meaning of things.

And this little guy's appearance at 5:15 a.m.

Not sure.

But.....wow.

A hummingbird appearing during my quiet time with Jesus.

In my house.

That's a first.

And I'm taking it as evidence of what I went on to read:

"As you listen to birds calling to one another,
hear also
My love call to you.

I speak to you continually:
through 
sights, 
sounds, 
thoughts
impressions, 
scripture.

There is no limit
to the variety of ways
I can communicate with you.

Your part is to be attentive to My messages.
In whatever form they come.

When you set out to find Me in a day,
you discover 
that the world is 

vibrantly alive

with 
My presence."

Sarah Young,  "Jesus Calling"


How cool is that?

Busted & A Bit Humbled

I've been.......so busted.

Better watch yourself.

You may find yourself on the receiving end too.

Eating your words.

That's what I've had to do.

My mantra for years?

Embrace change!

Be uncomfortable.

Allow yourself to be uneasy.

Step out.

Don't hide from new opportunities.

Then?

The moving truck pulled up to my back door.

Every piece of furniture was loaded.

And hauled to a new location.

Where it was set in place.

Looking a million times different than it did where it came from.

We moved.

Of course we moved!

Excuse me.

But that's what we've been working toward for almost a year.

Finish renovating the house in Due West.

And move into it.

That's been the plan.

And then?

It became reality.

The movers finished.

And left.

The door was closed.

And night fell that first day.

And I was exhausted.

And I got just a few hours of sleep.

And the next day.

I must have cried.

A dozen times.

Totally ridiculous.

I know.

Hard to imagine, right?

Me.

"Miss" -- jump off the deep end of the pool.

Do what makes you feel uncomfortable!

Travel to the bush of Africa - many times.

And I bawled like a baby on and off in a new house.

Questioning.

What have I done?

Why are we here?

Lord have mercy!

Thankfully.

Scott was my only witness.

And he mostly looked perplexed.

 And at a loss.

A new home.

A new town.

Nothing familiar.

Everything "uncomfortable."

Geeeehhh.

Get a grip -- I told myself.

And thankfully.

That first day passed.

And the second day went better.

Thank you, Jesus!

My house was set up.

Day by day it started to look more like I imagined.

My things were arranged.

Pictures were hung.

And it started it to feel more like home.

Today?

We've been here 10 days.

And I know which light switch turns on which light.

I know the drawer in the kitchen that holds the silverware.

And the one that holds my stash of dark chocolate.

I've learned the sounds of this old house.

And I'm sleeping much better.

All my animals have adjusted really well.

It's starting to feel more comfortable.

Starting to feel like home.

And.

My hard line mantra of telling others to embrace change.

And what you fear.

Has been a little softened.

Busted.

And a bit humbled.

Not Just A House

I'm down to my last few nights in this house.

So focused on the renovation work in Due West.

I've not thought a whole lot.

About what this will feel like.

Leaving this house.


This was the first house Scott & I ever owned.

Nine months pregnant when we moved in.

Almost to the day.

Twenty-one years ago.


It's not just real estate.

It's been home.

Comfort.   Love.   Rest.    Refuge.

Our place.


As I started pulling pictures off the walls this weekend.

And packing up in boxes.

The house started getting that.....right after Christmas look.

You know.

That bare.

Empty feeling a house gets right after the holidays.

Now.

We're packing everything up.   And moving on.

But, it won't be easy to leave this house.



Taylor came home here.

From the hospital after she was born.

We had her tea party birthday in this dining room when she was nine.

She stood on these front steps just a few years later.

In her prom dress for pictures.

And pulled out the driveway for the first time.

Driving solo in her car.

Kate.

She played tug-of-war with Sadie in the backyard.

And roller bladed with the kid next door.

She celebrated her 16th birthday.

With friends grilling burgers in the backyard.

The same backyard where we hosted her wedding reception.

A few short years later.....it seemed.

Tanner.

Jasper.

Maddie & Booper.

Sweet pets that lived out their lives in our family.

Here.

All buried in flower beds and under the crab apple tree.

At this house.



Scott & I have had countless conversations at the end of day.

Out there on the porch.

We've had many morning cups of coffee in this kitchen.

We always loved coming here at the end of tough days.

Or after a week of camping at the beach.

Or after a long journey to Africa and back.

There was always something about pulling into this driveway.

And looking at this house.

And walking through this door.

This place of comfort and love.

Not just a house.

It's been home.

Just a few days left here.

And.

A new chapter.

A new beginning awaiting us.

But not before.

I sit and be quiet.

In this house.

This home.

A few days more.

A Close Call on Father's Day

I still can't get over it.

We worked all day yesterday at the house we're renovating in Due West.  

We didn't quite get finished with one of our projects.

And now.

It's clear.

If we had finished....... our project yesterday,

We likely wouldn't have a house today.

Before 9:30 this morning,

We arrived in Due West.

I opened the back door of our house and walked inside.

Checking  on the brick I had installed on the kitchen wall the day before.

And the smell was overwhelming.

Not a natural gas smell.

That was my first thought.

But strong enough to irritate my eyes and throat immediately.

Scott & I had no idea where it could be coming from.

So, over the course of the next ten minutes.

We met a policeman and three volunteer fire fighters from Due West.

They carefully went through the house.

Reacting much as we did to the odor.

And this was the culprit.

I used what I thought was just a polishing oil Saturday.

Linseed Oil.

On two mantels and our heart pine front door.

And very carelessly when I was done.

I placed the Linseed Oil in a bedroom closet.

And tossed this rag in beside it.

Linseed Oil, I learned.

Was used by the old cotton mills to oil wood floors.

Highly combustible.

By the time the rag was discovered this morning.

The oil had burned a hole right through it.

It was charred black.

And hot to the touch.

One of the fireman told me that Linseed Oil can ignite in as little as two hours.

Reaching temperatures of 200 degrees when left on rags.

The fact that it hadn't already done so.

After 14 hours.

A miracle.

It was in a box.   In a closet.

With aerosol cans of paint stripper.

Under the stairway of our hundred year old house.

Days before our renovation is completely done.

I felt sick at my stomach at my carelessness.

Unbelievable.

And so grateful.

The outcome could have been much different.

It's nothing short.

Nothing short.

Of God's grace and intervention.

We had planned to take the day off today.

From working at the house.

Even when we decided we'd better finish yesterday's project.

We planned to go up late in the day.

But we went this morning.

First thing.

And I'm just thanking Jesus that we did.

Blessed by the volunteer fire fighters in Due West.

They were terrific!

Blessed by God's hand of protection.

And incredible blessing.

He's provided it countless time in our relationship with this old house.

Time and time again.

What I'm Lacking

Have you ever been tested or tried?

Or found yourself in a tough season of circumstances?

I'm there right now.

And no.

I don't need a lecture.

About counting my blessings.

I have plenty of reasons to feel blessed.

Plenty.

But.

At the same time.

Just as I've been in periods of time.

When circumstances are light.

And easier.

And uncomplicated.

The opposite can also true.

Circumstances can pile on.

Difficulties.

Challenges.

Demands.

Yes.

The kind that can kick you in the teeth.

Or be more subtle.

Exhaustingly.... hard seasons.

My mom worries when I write posts about hardship.

"Are you okay?" she'll ask me tomorrow.

"I worry about you."

Yeah.

I'm okay.

And I am.

Life can just be hard sometimes.

My faith tells me to thank God during trials and hardships.

I have a hard time doing that.

Just being honest.

So.......as I'm working on thankfulness during trials.

I do know that hard seasons show me things about myself.

Right now?

I'm learning about......today.

Of living in today.

And I'm doing that.

Because too far beyond that can be a bit overwhelming.

Today.

Is where I find relationship.

With Him.

Not in the past.

Not somewhere in the future.

But today.

That's what He's showing me.

He provides the strength that I need.

Today.

He supplies the courage that I need.

Today.

He equips me for.

Today.

So, I try to hold nothing back.

I get up and spend time with Him.

And tell Him how I feel.

If it's discouraged.

I tell Him.

If it's fear.

I tell Him.

If it's wishing for an easier time of it.

I tell Him that too.

Today.

Tough seasons of time are part of living.

And me?

Maybe it's a time for me to see what I'm made of.

Or more truthfully.

It's a time for me to see what I'm lacking.

I'm lacking.

He's providing.

And I'm finding Him.

In today.