Mourning Mental Illness: Grief that gives way to God’s Grace

Last updated on: April 13, 2012 at 5:15 am by Kurt Willems

Mourning Mental Illness: Grief that gives way to God’s Grace 2012-04-12T19:47:01-07:00 Kurt Willems

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

The following post is by someone who has become a good web friend of mine. As you read her post, I think you will know why. Thanks to Carmel Christine for this powerful article.

———————————————————————-

Mourning Mental Illness: Grief that gives way to God’s Grace
by Carmel Christine

A turn of events can catapult your life as you know it into a sphere so foreign, so cold, dark, distant and frightening that you barely recognize it. My teen son was diagnosed with Bipolar two and a half years ago. This disorder didn’t arrive subtly so we could slowly get our bearings and adjust to it. It showed itself as depression first. Our effervescent son of younger years was changing, becoming more moody, but as a teenager moodiness comes with the territory. Within a very short time, he almost took his life and only by the grace of God the attempt was interrupted. It was then life as we knew it changed.

At the moment his doctor told us we needed to get immediate help for our son, I felt as though my heart was being pulled out of my chest by hand. My head on the other hand was trying to take in the doctor’s words—very slowly: “. . . nurse is looking up numbers . . . treatment centers . . .” while also trying to process a mom’s to-do list: “pack suitcase . . . but what about his food allergies? . . . how far away will he be? . . .” Grief is setting in but there’s no time for it. I’m cold all over. I have to move. I have to make calls. Not just one call—many, because I discovered not all places were able to take a kid with life-threatening food allergies. The risk? He’s suicidal which means no sharp things, ties and strings off shoes, etc., but they can’t keep him from drinking a glass of milk. That’s all it would take since he’s anaphylactic to it.

The darkness gets darker and has pushed me toward an abyss, a chasm. I was led to pray in order to get to the other side of this. My inner prayer to God then was two simple words: “Father, God.” All I could do was repeat it over and over. God moved me to take this thing moment by moment. I made the calls, one at a time until finally the right doctor and the right help came. Now I could breathe. Not deeply, but enough to feel. I felt grief. This feeling was the same as what I felt for the passing of my parents the year earlier. I’m not comfortable with it, but then who is. My optimistic outlook, past losses and how God had used them for His glory, to show mercy and grace, spirit and life at the darkest of times, kept me focused this time.

As time went on and medical treatment began, each stage was met with another loss. Each new medicine tried was always a risk. Then there was school. You see, there was always hope he would go back to school but that didn’t work out. When I would walk into the building to pick up his books I see all the usual activity of a typical high school—banners on the walls announcing a school dance, the window case with the trophies of sports wins, students, his friends, laughing and going to class.

Walking through the school one day, I happened to look across the top of one wall where an academic banner stretched across with names of proficient and distinguished students from the previous spring. My eyes scrolled down the list and there was my son’s name. My eyes welled up instantly—mostly with pride but then an uncomfortable, overwhelming sadness—not because I didn’t think he could be there again, but that it wouldn’t be the same. With his bipolar (not everyone with bipolar experiences it the same) he needs more time to study, to read, to take breaks—basically he has to move “with” his disorder to take advantage of his more productive moments, which are unpredictable, so when the “lows” hit, he won’t be too behind. With that kind of pace, the way he goes about his education has to be different; a new normal.

Going to dances or even events like July 4th celebrations present more difficulties because of the sounds and lights. They affect him and without going into it, it’s just another reminder that his activities have to be planned out and can’t be spontaneous. My point is there is a loss experienced.

The difference between a mourning of death and this kind of mourning is it is excruciatingly private. Unlike mourning the loss of a loved one, there are no neighborly visits from family or friends. No covered casseroles lined up on the kitchen counter; no notes or cards of encouragement or any of the markings of cherished care that comes when death interrupts life. No service with a preacher offering words of love and comfort, or ending in prayers for God’s grace. Still when mental illness forged its way into my 15-year-old son, it did so cruelly, ripping into the effervescent personality of our fun-loving teenager.

Where was the church in all this? Well, the year earlier when my mom died, I visited a small church in my town. After services, I approached the pastor, told him that I was visiting and my mom had recently passed away. He stood there and said he was sorry but he needed to go catch someone before they left. I said, sure go ahead. I left too. It would be another year before we would find a church but that was ok. We still had God.

The beginning of our new path together as a family is still developing. We have learned to reach out to a few people and have found a church family which means everything. The amazing courage my son has shown throughout this has overwhelmed me and taught me so much. Some things just don’t matter anymore. It doesn’t much matter if the house isn’t picked up when he has invited a friend over. We have learned who our friends are and who not to invest time with. I personally have reached a new place in my faith. There isn’t a lot of time for wasting—time involved in the things this world thinks is important. My focus is on God’s Kingdom. My son is mine to care for here but belongs to God.

Our son is very open with his condition. Still, many people find it hard to realize all that he copes with because unlike other disabilities, with mood disorders or mental illness, you can’t “see” it. But one fine thing you can see is his fun-loving spirit is back, he found God and loves Jesus! Praises always to our One & Only.

Previous Post

April 12, 2012

Politics, Religion, and The Hunger Games (Interview on Terminal Podcast)

Next Post

April 16, 2012 Hell Yes. Hell No! Or Who the Hell Cares? (Part 1 - Intro & Love Wins)

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category (Series) All Out War-Spiritual Warfare (Series) Church Plant Journal (Series) Dear Reader... (Series) Earthquakes...Signs of the Times? (Series) Entering the... Conversation (Series) Evangelical Culture Myths (Series) Everything is Meaningless [Pete Enns] (Series) Evolving Evangelicalism (Series) Hell Yes. Hell No! Who Cares? (Series) Hidden Worldviews (Series) If Evolution is Right, what about Adam? (Series) in less than 300 words (Series) Jesus and Nationalism (Series) Liberating Women for Ministry? (Series) Life-Changing Books (Series) Markers of Church Plant Movement (Series) Nonviolence 101 (Series) Philemon - Reconciliation (Series) Quote to Ponder (Series) Red Letter Dialogues (Series) Resource of the Week (SERIES) Revelation Sermons (Series) Share Something Sundays (Series) Simplicity in the Burbs: $2 a day (Series) The Binding of God [Open Theism] (Series) The Creed: Anabaptist Reflections (Series) Values for Church Leadership (Series) Video to Ponder Anabaptism Animal Advocacy Books Church Ministry Church Planting Community Culture Eschatology Eucharist Evangelical Reject Evolution Fundamentalism Greek Greg Boyd Guest Contributors Hell Holy Spirit Israel/Palestine Kingdom of God Lent Missional N. T. Wright Nationalism New Creation Nonviolence Open Mic Open Theism Parenting Passover Paul Philemon Podcast Politics Restorative Justice Revelation (the book of) Rob Bell Ron Martoia Sermon Shane Claiborne Social Justice Speaking Engagement Spiritual Warfare Spirituality Temple Theology Tim Geddert Tribulation Uncategorized universalism Video Blog Women in Ministry Worship Music Youth Ministry

Select a Month August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 October 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 December 2016 October 2016 August 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 October 2014 September 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011 October 2011 September 2011 August 2011 July 2011 June 2011 May 2011 April 2011 March 2011 February 2011 January 2011 December 2010 November 2010 September 2010 August 2010 July 2010 June 2010 May 2010 April 2010 March 2010 February 2010 January 2010 October 2009 September 2009 August 2009 July 2009 June 2009 May 2009 April 2009 March 2009 February 2009 January 2009 December 2008 November 2008 October 2008 September 2008 August 2008 June 2008 May 2008 April 2008

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

Who interpreted a dream about a tree that reached heaven?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Daniel Ezekiel Joel Amos

Support this
Column