Life’s Journey

From the Archives: You Prepare a Table Before Me

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil, my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life…”

Psalm 23:5-6a

Today marks the end of a pretty good week. Drama free, no missed work or car problems. It was payday yesterday so that makes it even better. I was able to catch up on a couple of bills and buy a few essentials.

The above verses from Psalm 23 follow verse 4: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”

You’ve probably heard me say that losing someone you love so much is like going through the Valley of the Shadow of Grief. Their death, not yours, but it affects every aspect of your life. There is no part of your day that your loss doesn’t touch, at least in the beginning.

I feel like I came through the shadows and into the light of God’s grace. I’ve shared most of my journey on this blog in previous posts.

The shadows linger over my head at times, like during the past month when the struggles of life bombarded me and were almost more than I could take.

Almost.

There is no question that the love and support of my family and friends brought me through.

I specifically asked for prayer last week when I was faced with a staff training day which meant sitting in a room with 30 other people. I didn’t find the chair comfortable, I was in the middle of the room, not the back or off by myself, which meant I felt claustrophobic, and IBS kicked in. But the seminar was on dealing with anxiety and stress, and by the time it was over my anxiety symptoms had faded.

One of the other homemaker aides took me under her wing that day, knowing I had problems with anxiety. She gave me the end seat at lunch, becoming the buffer between other employees and myself.

The company paid for lunch, then we bowled afterwards. My new friend invited me to be on her team, along with two other women from our department.

I had fun.
I was suprised at that.

I haven’t bowled for 20 years and I had a horrible score.

But I laughed a lot. I enjoyed myself in the company of my new friends.

I have not socialized aside from family and church for a long time, so it was a good experience for me. Sure, I had some socially awkward moments, but for the most part I felt good about the day’s events.

God prepared that table before me, in the restaurant and at the bowling alley. The employer is not my enemy and the other workers aren’t enemies, either.

No, the enemies that surrounded me that day were fear, anxiety and insecurity.

God anointed that time and place. He saw ahead and paved the way through my new friend, a table that had an open spot on the end, and a group that I was comfortable bowling with.

Although we had time to play three games and two of my teammates did so, I stopped after one. I don’t have great balance and I feared I would take a fall. It wasn’t so much fear as caution.

Even after I quit bowling, I spent time socializing and stretching outside the box.

For that afternoon, I forgot all about my troubles.

My cup of joy and laughter overflowed.

I had asked for prayer to get through the day, and I know many of my friends and family responded. I could feel the difference.

Problem or Progress?

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

Last August I struggled to get through work on the days surrounding the anniversary of my husband’s death. My boss, a former social worker, was very understanding but suggested that I might want to take some time off around that anniversary this year.

In March I put in for a week off from August 15 through August 19. With the two weekends, that would give me 11 days for a nice break.

At first I had plans to go away for a few days. With some canceled clients and cutting back my schedule in May and June, that no longer seemed feasible.

So I decided on a Staycation.

I scheduled some important doctor visits. One was for my physical, and as the time crept closer I had some concerns I wanted to go over with my doctor. When it was time for that appointment, her office called to change the date.

On Tuesday I had my teeth cleaned and examined. I’m going to need some work due to damage from dry mouth, caused by medications. They can’t get me in until January to get the work done.

I had a meeting at church on Tuesday afternoon. We’re planning some fun curriculum and met to get things set in motion.

I had the sniffles, but on Wednesday it turned into sinus congestion and aches and pains.

I took two Covid tests later that night and both were positive.

The second one was to confirm the first one because I was hoping it was wrong.

Before I knew it was Covid I’d had lunch with my sister who’d taken me to town to put my paperwork in. I didn’t feel like driving that morning. I blamed it on the stress of it being the date that my husband had his work accident, but it also might have been the fact that I was not feeling well physically.

So that led to cancellation of plans on Thursday. I was scheduled for a routine doctor appointment in the “city” and another sister and I planned a day of thrift store shopping around my appointment. I had to cancel all of it.

I also had to cancel my haircut, which I desperately need and had set up for Friday afternoon.

Originally I wanted to do something memorable with my three adult children in honor of their dad. Instead, we got takeout from Pizza Hut, which was his favorite place to eat. My oldest son doesn’t live with me and in order not to be exposed to Covid, he dropped off our order.

My younger son and daughter were exposed before I knew I had it, and they’d had it in the spring (I had too, but it had been a mild case). They fortunately didn’t get sick.

It wasn’t the vacation I’d hoped for.

It wasn’t the stress-free time I’d been looking forward to.

I was due to return to work on Monday, August 22. But I ended up in the ER with chest pain and congestion instead. Things were normal in the Xray but they gave me a steroid for the inflammation and an inhaler. The doctor also recommended I not return to work until Wednesday and my boss agreed.

I canceled Tuesday clients, and one was angry enough about all the rescheduling and missed appointments that he canceled service. I couldn’t have done anything differently.

Tuesday afternoon my daughter had an appointment that she needed a driver for so I took her. I sat in the car and ran the AC intermittently with the windows down for short amounts of time. She was nearly an hour in the appointment.

Afterward, we went through the Taco Bell drive thru so she could get something and take some food home to her brother.

I pulled into a gas station to use the restroom and shut the car off. It wouldn’t restart.

After waiting a while, I called my son, and my brother, who both came. They jumped the car but it wouldn’t start. My brother is good at car work and said it was the starter. Since there was no way to get it home, I had it towed. My younger son paid the bill because I didn’t have money in the bank to cover a towing fee.

We got home around seven o’clock Tuesday night.

On Wednesday I contacted my clients to let them know I’d had Covid as a courtesy in case they didn’t want contact. They did want me to clean, so I worked for 3 hours yesterday.

When I called today’s clients to do the same, they all three requested that I not come to their houses today and would wait until next scheduled appointment.

To say I’m frustrated at this point would be putting it mildly. Each setback chips away at my faith a little. I’m stronger than I was at this time last year, but I feel like each day is a struggle right now. It has nothing to do with having bipolar disorder or depression, but it’s dealing with the problems that causes me to weaken and feel unsure of the future.

Even though I’m experiencing some problems with health/car/work, I’m making progress. I acknowledge there are things that are out of my control. I submit to the Lord, Who is present even in these difficulties.

I know He has a plan for my life. (Jeremiah 29:11).

I know that in all things He works together for my good. (Romans 8:28)

I know that even when I cannot see Him working, He knows the way that I take. And when I have been tested, I will come forth as gold. (Job 23:10)

Fortunately I have the support of family, friends and a boss who understands. I’m not where I’d hoped to be this week, but I am in the palm of the Father’s hand. He will never leave me nor forsake me. (Hebrews 13:5)

From the Archives: Get Up and Try Again

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

Week 4 of my Journey out of the Pit

During the process of healing from my depression, I found that maintaining change was hard work. After just a few weeks of counseling sessions, I was already failing in my attempts to get out of the pit.

I felt like I was in a downward cycle. I felt overwhelmed. I couldn’t maintain the house or remind myself of the truths I’d memorized.

I couldn’t find my way back out of the pit.

My counselor shared with me these Bible verses from Job:

Job 23:8-10

8 “But if I go to the east, he is not there;
    if I go to the west, I do not find him.
9 When he is at work in the north, I do not see him;
    when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him.
10 But he knows the way that I take;
    when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold.

My counselor said that even though I couldn’t find God in my life, He knew where I was.

He was with me in the pit even though I couldn’t see Him.

My feelings were all over the place. My counselor reminded me that feelings are not facts. That’s why I needed to latch onto the truths I had learned.

She also said that it’s okay to slip and fall. But I had to make a choice: I could lie in the pit, or I could apply the tools I’d learned and continue to move forward.

It’s okay to pray, “No, I really can’t do this, but God, if You help me, I’ll try.”

In those low moments, we need go back to these verses in Job. God knows where we are. He is with us, even when we don’t feel His presence or see Him.

And we don’t give up hope.

We get back up, and we try again.

It’s now been several years since I began the process of healing from depression. I wish I could say that it’s easy, but it has ups and downs. I slid back into the pit a couple of times, but never as low as I was before I started counseling.

These days, I live above the pit. By the Grace of God, applying what I’ve learned through counseling, and with support of family and friends, I can fight the darkness that drags me to the edge.

I stand strong most of the time, but sometimes a person says things that hit me wrong, I make a mistake that I perceive as dumb, or a circumstance that I can’t avoid happens. (Like when a new job didn’t work out–more than once).

Then my feelings start to get in the way of the truths I have learned about myself. I falter in my steps and slide a little closer to the pit.

When that happens, I do these things:

I attend counseling sessions so my counselor can help me get back on track.

I also read my Bible often, and pray for myself and for others.

I listen to music. With a music app, I can set up a playlist for every mood.

I take care of myself physically through regular exercise, healthy eating choices and getting enough sleep. (Not always, but often enough to make a difference in how I feel).

I do a lot of journaling, as well as other forms of writing.

I have friends and family who offer emotional support.

My counselor said I remind her of the Energizer bunny. Remember those commercials? I slip, I fall sometimes, but I always get back up and try again to move forward.

Proverbs 24:16 says:

” for though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again”

It’s by the grace of God and all of the above-mentioned efforts that I am able to keep out of the pit.

Still, one year later and 8.5 years after my first counseling appointment, I need to reset my mind and thoughts often. I don’t handle change very well, and my social anxiety is sometimes off the charts. But the only way to move is forward.

Psalm 46:1 says it all:

God is our refuge and strength,
    an ever-present help in trouble.

From the Archive: Tools to Change

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

Week 3 of my Journey out of the Pit

I’ve shared in previous posts that 1) the rungs to help us climb out of the pit are the truths about ourselves; and 2) our feelings are not facts.

After the first two sessions, I was still integrating the new thought patterns into my life. One night, I was feeling down and negative about myself. I was in physical pain.

I looked back at my counseling notes and remembered:

One day at a time…THIS is the day that the Lord has made…

I remembered a pastor’s message to “make a joyful noise.”

I started to sing (I don’t remember what song). After a few wobbly notes, I was singing praise songs.

I spent time in my room, with Itunes playing on my laptop, and relaxed for half an hour. Physical pain subsided as I quieted my thoughts.

The next time I met with my counselor, she reminded me of these Bible verses:

James 4:7-8

7 Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. 8(a) Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you.

She encouraged me to resist the negative thoughts that had dragged me into depression and to turn and embrace God, who is powerful.

When we say, “Help me,” His Spirit comes in and rescues us.

The journey out of depression is like taking baby steps.

My counselor gave me some tools to help me in my battle with depression:

Get out in the sunlight.

Do something to move. Get my body in motion.

Deep breathing

Muscle relaxing

Picturing a quiet place (which for me was our friend’s cabin on the river)

Thinking of a hymn or song

Remembering helpful Scripture verses

Change is uncomfortable, but without it, we can’t grow. Change isn’t going to happen by accident, but by applying the tools I’ve learned and working on myself.

I thought of myself as damaged goods, but Jesus paid the price for my sins because to God I am worthwhile.

I have value in God’s eyes.

Therefore, I need to take care of myself.

Happy Independence Day!

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

I thought I was independent as a young adult when I went off to college, then traveled to Mexico. I THOUGHT I was independent when in 1988 I went back to Mexico and stayed for six months teaching.

The situation where I lived wasn’t working out. I’d been independent here in the U.S., but there I didn’t know how to cook or clean or anything to their standards. The meals I tried to cook weren’t well received so I gave up. I ate most of my meals out even if it was just a yogurt and fresh fruit.

One day I had terrible stomach cramps and the woman I was living with took me to see the doctor. Later that day, I rode the bus to school as usual. I met up with some friends who invited me to their house.

Later that evening, they took me back to the place where I was staying. One of the sisters said, “She is going to scold you.” (Meaning my housemate.)

Well, she certainly did. After I said goodbye to the sisters and walked into the house, my housemate let me have it. For over an hour I sat at the table and listened to her tell me that she had called hospitals and everyone she knew to see where I had been. It was in the days before cell phones. I didn’t even have her phone number if I’d wanted to call and tell her I’d be late. Along with that, she blasted me. “You depend too much on your mommy.”

Me? Dependent on my mom?

I was offended at that. After all, I’d been out of school 5 years and had lived on my own most of that time. I’d been financially independent for most of that time period also.

But looking at it from her standpoint, I was lazy and didn’t do my share.

That was the beginning of the end for me. I began to get homesick and desperate to make it through the next few weeks until the classes I was teaching were finished. I didn’t try to fit in anymore.

I came home and started a new job, found a new place to live, bought a car. I met my husband and we got married nine months later. I was still independent, up until we had our first child. Then I became a stay-at-home mom.

As a mom with young children and with a husband who worked long hours, I did become dependent on my mom. She helped out with the kids, went with me on errands, and was always just a phone call away. Even when she was going through her illness I could still call and she would listen to my complaints.

She was very helpful during the time that I had my nervous breakdown when I was hospitalized, and after I returned home. She ended up getting sick and passing away a couple of years later.

It was about that time when my dependence shifted to my husband. I could no longer attend social functions without his presence there to buffer me and shield me from nervousness. He carried the financial burden of my doctor appointments and medicine without complaint. As I gradually got better, I became more independent. I even got a job and contributed to the household finances.

But I still relied on him to support me when we went places. I didn’t like to go without him. So when I lost him in August 2010, it took a long time before I could get back to my independence.

As I’ve shared in previous blog posts, through counseling, medication and emotional support, I’ve managed to come through the Valley of the Shadow of Grief and come out the other side, stronger than before. I have arrived at a secure place in my life. Lately I’ve become involved in church and attended social functions without that anxiety eating me up inside.

I’d like to say I’m independent, but financially I rely on my adult children who live with me as they share in paying utilities and pay for everything for our rescued cats, including food, litter and vet care. That could change in the future, and I am working toward the goal of becoming financially solid by the time I’m 60. (Not too many years away, unfortunately).

Although I have put the past behind me, I will always remember the words of my housemate in Mexico when she said, “You depend too much on your mommy.” It keeps me humble to realize that I wasn’t all that I thought I was.