I'm very honoured to be contributing graphics and words at Velvet Ashes, a website for encouraging and connecting women who live and serve overseas. And when Danielle told me what they'd be focusing on this month - mental illness, depression and fear - I knew God had given me something to say, a chapter of my story to share, and I wrote it all out here. For you. Ok, and for me, too.
It was a beautiful moment. A triumph.
We stood on the platform waiting for our respective trains, buzzing from the evening’s festivities. Only three months after first arriving on the field, I had managed to clean myself up (leaving my normal mommy uniform of jeans and a Kansas Jayhawks t-shirt at home), get myself to the train and find my way through the city centre, guided by Georgian doors and the brisk, independent European gait. It was my coming-out party; or at least, it felt that way to me. My first act of service, volunteering at an esteemed lecture, diving deeper into the culture I wanted so desperately to understand.
Four hours later, my feet were killing me, but I felt alive. So alive, I knew what was coming.
“You’re doing so great, all of you,” my new friend and trusted colleague said to me. “How do feel about it, now that it’s been a few months? Do you feel like you’re doing great?”
“Yes,” I said, “I think it’s been really great. But I’m afraid,” I paused, uncertain of her response, but knowing my rhythms and the patterns that have followed me all my life.
“I’m afraid,” I began again, “I’m about to be not so great.”
Come visit us over at Velvet Ashes to continue reading...