Turn Us, O God

I got home yesterday from another stay at the mental health hotel where it sort of reminds me of the old Eagles song, Hotel California (“You can check out any time you want, but you can never leave.”). This time it took me ten days to get it back together enough to be released, but I am still convalescing. My mother’s death really triggered a bipolar depression crash and I was becoming dangerous to myself. It was harder this time to pull it together this time. My former psychiatrist told me that episodes can become increasingly worse as you age. Not exactly what I wanted to hear. Medications can help prevent brain damage from mania, but I don’t know about the depression side. A new set of medications and time to adjust is what the doctor has ordered. Plus a temporarily reduced work schedule.

I am tired of the Bipolar Disorder roller coaster. It seems to be a never ending ride. And it not only affects me, but those near me. It really is Hotel California of the mind. One hope I find is that this life is short in comparison to the promised eternal life I am looking forward to without pain or tears.

I took my bible with me to the hospital and read the Psalms and other scriptures during my stay. What is so wonderful about the Psalms is that many of them are actually laments and cries for help. I prayed them as I read them. I fervently prayed Psalm 139. God has never left me throughout my life. As someone wise once told me, I have taken the Holy Spirit places that he’d rather I had not gone, but he was there with me nevertheless.

I also had my Grandmother’s Book of Common Prayer which moves me to tears in some of the confessional prayers. One says, “Turn us, O God, turn us and we shall be turned.” Turned back to him in our sinful wanderings, our fears, our sorrows.  There is no limit on what the Holy Spirit can do within the heart of the believer if it is laid bare and open. The soil of the heart can be rocky and hard, but with the work of the Spirit, albeit painful at times, the ground can be cleared, plowed and made ready for the seed of the living Word to take root, grow and yield a bountiful harvest. Our part is to ask for it and then go with the flow, withholding nothing.

So what does that have to do with mental illness? Plenty. There are trials and tribulations in this life. Mine is Bipolar. Others may face other daunting struggles, but the scripture assures us that God never forsakes us, never gives us more than we can handle, and provides all we need to turn our tears into springs of living water. I can use my past addictions and current mental state to help others in similar struggles, of any struggles, really, keeping in mind that not all burdens are self-imposed, they are sometimes the result of living in this fallen world. I would rather be a bit crazy and trust in God for the grace to carry me through, than to live problem free, without needing the Lord.

My pastor gave me a scripture to hold onto while I was in this acute flare. Habakkuk 3:17-19:

Though the fig tree does not blossom, and no fruit is on the vines; although the produce of the olive fails, and the fields yield no food; although the flock is cut off from the fold, and there is no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer and makes me tread upon the heights.

I read it every day. At some point I will find myself on the mountain top again, and I will know how I got there: the unrelenting, unsurpassable, undying grace of God, mingled with his sweet, tender mercies. Until then, I must wait. Just as all creation groans, so will we, but always tinged with hope of better things to come.