Another school year has begun. It follows days and weeks of fun,
But not for me.
Somehow I managed to survive internal waves of crest and dive
Through blackened sea.
But now the lessons must resume, and youthful learning minds illume
That they may grow.
Yet how to motivate my soul to reach this academic goal
I do not know.
With tears I turn toward my mate and say, “The pressure is too great
For me to bear.
We must do something else this year, for I am failing them, I fear,
And little care.”
We sought the Lord on bended knee; He wisdom gave us willingly
And led the way.
We found a school where they’d be taught about the Bible as they ought.
Then came the day
When first I left them at the door, went home, sat silent on the floor
And tried to pray.
“Dear Lord, please help me win this war that I may teach my kids once more
While they are young.
My mind and soul I raise to You for healing, Lord, both sure and true—
Thy will be done.”
It was hard for me to admit that I was unfit to be my children’s teacher, but the plain truth was that I needed help on many levels. Life was hard. Life is hard, but just then it was like flint, and as dark as pitch. On Saturday I’ll tell the entire story of my diagnosis with Bipolar I and also how the Lord God delivered me by His amazing grace. But for now, I’ll drop this little breadcrumb….
We started the new school year—or tried to, anyway, but it didn’t go so well. I sat down on the sofa and felt as though an elephant were on my lap. I literally could not move. Helplessly I looked around the room at my children who were happy to have an extended summer break. I wanted to reach out to them but my arm would not obey the command to come up off the cushion. I wanted to speak to them, but when I opened my mouth nothing came out. My poor children were forced to fend for themselves for breakfast and lunch, and their dad fixed their dinner when he came home from work. After two weeks of this, we enrolled the children in school and took steps to get professional help for me.
This is not a topic I enjoy talking about. To be honest, I swept it under the rug years ago and have been quite happy to leave it there. But someone asked me to share my story, and I promised I would. Now I am keeping that promise. I’ve devoted this entire week to snippets, but Saturday will be the whole story. The best part is that this is a story of hope because God brought healing and restoration into my life for both me and my family, and this hope and healing is available to everyone. That’s the best news of all!
Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.
“The Hard Way” written September 17, 2005
© 2017 Angela Umphers Rueger – All Rights Reserved
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