Many years ago, I asked my mother how she decided on my name. In great anticipation, I waited for some profound meaning or story. Instead, the answer was a disappointment. “Oh, I don’t remember! You were the 4th kid!” My heart sank. Even my own mother couldn’t remember what was special about my name.
Still, I wondered about the answer to that question. So, during a conversation with my dad, I mentioned this encounter and my disappointment with my mother’s response. He immediately said, “Well, I named you! Maybe that’s why she doesn’t remember.” Then to my surprise and great pleasure, in an emboldened voice, he said, “I named you after the ‘Unsinkable’ Molly Brown!” My dad knew my story!
Determined to find more information about the “unsinkable” Molly Brown, I did a little research. I discovered that Margaret “Molly” Brown was one of the survivors from the Titanic. She was on Lifeboat 6 (the third lifeboat to launch from the sinking ship) that was filled with women, a Pomeranian and a ship’s quartermaster. As the story goes, she took control of the boat after the crewman lost hope of survival. She was said to have been a strong willed and spunky woman who’s “never say die” efforts were crucial to the survival of those in Lifeboat 6. There are several tales about the notorious “unsinkable” title; however, it would not be a stretch to say that anyone surviving the sinking of the Titanic is a miracle.
As it turns out, the having such a namesake is quite appropriate for me, given the difficulties that I have faced in my life. In spite of it all, I have somehow overcome; I have, in fact, been “unsinkable”. As much as I would like to say that I have a strong-will and “never say die” attitude like Molly Brown, I can’t. I am easily discouraged and quick to claim that the situation as “hopeless”. In truth, I am actually quite “sinkable” but I have the best life preserver that a human can have; God.
One might say that it’s an interesting coincidence between the everyday struggles that have required me to be “unsinkable” and the notorious nickname, but I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe in God-incidences and that is exactly what my name is about – God’s claim on my life, before I was even born.
Just as my earthly father knows the story of how I got my name, my heavenly Father knows the story of my life. The amazing part of that revelation is that not only does my heavenly Father know my story, but he knew it before I was born. He knew what lay ahead in my life and that my discovering such significance in my name would come at just the right time – when I needed to be reminded.
“You chart the path ahead of me and tell me where to stop and rest…You both precede and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head…You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb…You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.” Psalm 139:3, 5, 13, 16 (NLT)
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Twilight
“It’s almost dark; twilight.” my dad said as he gazed out the window from his hospital bed. I waited for him to say something more. There was always a purpose behind what he said. “Do you know what twilight is?” he asked. “Hmmm?” I replied and his lesson began. As the dim light faded into night, he told me that twilight is that period of time after the rising or setting of the sun when one sees the stars most clearly. It is the best time to take a navigational bearing to ensure that you are on the right course. “Do you know the difference between morning and evening twilight?” he quizzed me. I admitted that I did not. In fact, I didn’t even know that there were two “types” of twilight. Sensing something profound was about to come from him, I leaned in and listened intently. I wanted to glean as much wisdom as I could. The time of his passing was coming near. He continued his lesson and I learned that “evening twilight” is the optimal time to take bearings because there are more stars visible. At the end of his lesson, he paused. Then, pointing his finger at me, he said, “Remember that! You might need it some day.” I looked at him, he winked and the lesson was over. Given the conversation that we had about twilight only a few weeks before, it seemed only appropriate that he passed from this world to the next through the veil of morning twilight. Since that morning, I have remembered our conversation many times, although, probably not with as many details as he would have wanted. What continues to nudge at my heart is that “twilight” is when we see the most clearly; that moment that we can get our bearings and continue on a right course. There is clarity in the twilight between life and death; in those brief moments as one event transitions into another – when the weight of your life hangs in the delicate balance between mortal and immortal. By that time, one is a seasoned sailor and the significance of everything you do and say is so much greater. It is easier to find meaning in each moment; there are so few left. Although it seems odd, I found great clarity in those last “twilight” weeks between my father’s life and death. Perhaps it is because I was only dealing with one event at a time. But in the transition between of his death and the continuation of my life, I struggled to find “twilight” clarity. You see, after my dad passed away, my life had been in a constant state of transition. A seemingly never-ending sequence of compounding events tossed and tumbled me like waves of the sea. I tried to stay afloat while moving from one event to the next but having missed the twilight, I was unable to take new bearings. I was drifting off course – uncertain of my direction and purpose.
I wish that I could say that I quickly dug deep into my faith and found something to hold on to; but the truth is that I had been drowning in my tears of brokenness. But at the moment that it seemed as though I could no longer stay afloat, my heavenly Daddy stepped in to buoy me up and to set me back on course.
The words to a hymn called Solid Rock rose to the surface of my mind:
“When darkness seems to hide His face, I rest on His unchanging grace. In every high and stormy gale, My Anchor holds within the veil.” No matter how many more unexpected transitions hit me, the one thing that will never change is the goodness and grace of God. It is a lesson that I have re-learned many times, but now I have a “twilight” perspective – a moment of clarity. I am reminded that in that moment of clarity, if I just look up instead of around me, I can get my bearings, reset my course and move forward again. “We have this hope as an anchor or the soul, firm and secure.” Hebrews 6:19
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Mental Illness and Stigma
I have bipolar disorder (manic depressive illness) and am very open and transparent about it. It is not a character defect, it is a brain illness. Yet, society still looks upon mental illness with condescension and judgment. This is wrong.
While I realize that I may not be able to change the world by writing one blog, I can try to change some of that stigma by sharing some of my own thoughts – from the perspective of someone who has a mental illness.
First of all, the key to shifting the paradigm of societal misperceptions about mental illness is to recognize the very simple truth that, in most cases, it is caused by a natural dysfunction of the brain. The brain is an organ in our bodies, as are the heart, lungs, liver, and pancreas. It is the ONE organ that the medical field understands the least yet, it controls everything about us; our speech, our behavior, our thought process, our physical movement, and our emotions. Herein lies part of the problem, because the brain controls these vital parts of our lives, we see the symptoms in a way that causes others to fear, to judge, and to misunderstand.
With that fact in mind – that mental illness is actually a “brain” illness – here is an analogy that may provide a little insight. Imagine that I have cirrhosis of the liver and that everyone could see that diseased organ. A diseased liver is a hideous sight, so most people would automatically be uncomfortable, repulsed, look away, and perhaps be fearful of me; they would perhaps focus on how it looks more than what I have. No one (except a doctor or coroner) wants to see such a horrible thing – it is uncomfortable, it evokes emotions that are negative and eventually results in a negative response from people.
How is a brain illness different? You may be able to come up with all sorts of reasons why, but here is more food for thought. Think about what types of brain illness are considered more “socially acceptable” – Alzheimer’s, dementia, PTSD, autism, ADD, ADHD, Dyslexia, Traumatic Brain Illness, and learning disabilities. In response to these examples, one might say they cannot help it; “something” caused those brain illnesses.
“Something” also causes brain illnesses such as depression, anxiety disorders, bipolar disorder, mood disorders, schizophrenia and various other types of mental illnesses. Although not completely understood, they are recognized by the medical field to be caused or influenced by things such as genetics, trauma, natural changes in brain chemistry and substance abuse. Again I ask, how are these different from the “socially acceptable” brain illnesses that are referenced above?
Like it or not, society must begin to recognize mental illness for what it is – an illness of the brain. I recognize that stigma about mental illness exists and will for some time, but it is only by being transparent and informing others about it that this stigma will be reduced.
People who do not have a brain illness, will never fully understand, but are those who do have such illnesses beyond some level of human compassion? Everyone is affected by mental illness, either directly or indirectly themselves, through a relationship or just by the “strange” person wandering the streets lost in their own mind. Many people with brain illnesses do not have a voice simply because they are so ill, which is why it is so important to be a voice for them.
Finally, consider this. Many of the things that we experience and have today, would not exist were it not for people with brain illnesses. You see, people with some of these conditions also have an amazing ability to create, to write, to compose, to imagine the impossible, and to think critically – to change and affect society in positive ways. Here a just a few people with mental illness who have contributed to life as we know it:
POETS
Emily Dickinson
T.S. Elliot
Victor Hugo
Walt Whitman
Edgar Allen PoeWRITERS
Hans Christian Anderson
John Bunyan
Charles Dickens
Isak Dinesen
Ralph Waldo Emerson
William Faulkner
F. Scott Fitzgerald
Herman Melville
Tennessee Williams
Ernest HemingwayCOMPOSERS/MUSICIANS
Sergey Rachmaninoff
Peter Tchaikovski
Irving Berlin
Cole Porter
Elton JohnARTISTS
Vincent Van Gogh
Paul Gauguin
Michelangelo
Georgia O’Keeffe
Jackson PollackOTHERS
Leonardo Da Vinci
Isaac Newton
Abraham Lincoln
Charles Darwin
Thomas Edison
Albert Einstein
Walt Disney
Buzz Aldrin
Robin WilliamsSo, the next time you think of “mental” illness, think of some of these people and the contribution that they have made to our world. God created them in an amazing way so that they can help us see and understand our world in unique and wonderful ways.
Would you show them any less respect? Would you turn away if one of them were someone that you loved? Would you reach out to them if they were on the verge of committing suicide or carrying out a horrific act? Would you have any less compassion for them? My prayer is that the answer is no.
If you have a mental illness, you have probably experienced stigma, as have I. My opinion is this, if someone places stigma on me because of my mental illness, then he or she probably should not be around me; I don’t want that to interfere with how I live my life. Just like any other human being, I deserve compassion and acceptance, not judgment and disdain. This will likely result in people I love and care about turning away from me because they do not understand.
I will not allow that to bring me down, cause me question God as to why He made me this way, or think less of myself. I have lived that life and refuse to do so anymore. I am unique, wonderful and worth knowing and loving – with or without my illness.
Psalm 139:13: “You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous – and how well I know it.”
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Learning to Fly
I love watching things “happen” in nature. When I owned a home, I planted various types of trees, shrubs and flowering plants in my yard to attract wildlife, particularly butterflies and birds. Outside my kitchen window, I strategically placed bird feeders and nectar plants so that I could see any activity from my vantage point next to the sink. During the winter months, when all of the birds migrated down to Florida from the north, the feeders were particularly busy. I would watch various species of birds come and go as the months passed. Being a biologist to the core, each time I spotted something I didn’t recognize, I pulled out my bird field guide to identify it. One of the more common species of bird that I used to see at my feeders were red cardinals. Without fail every winter and sometimes throughout the summer, I saw at least one pair consistently at the feeder. One season, I watched a pair for what seemed like months come and go to the feeders. Then one day, in a small flowering tree a few feet from the feeder, I noticed an unfamiliar face. It looked like a cardinal, but it was ruffled and somewhat chunky. It only took a minute or two for me to realize that it was a young fledgling, waiting as its mother went to the feeder and returned with seed. The fledgling wasn’t quite able to fly yet, so it awkwardly jumped from branch to branch working its way around. I could hardly contain the excitement I felt seeing this new addition to the “neighborhood” and felt honored that God would let me watch the interaction between the mother and the young fledgling. Over the next few days and weeks, I eagerly watched through the kitchen window looking for more signs of the fledgling’s development. I saw the male and female cardinal come to the feeder and the fledgling become more familiar with its wings. One day, I noticed the male cardinal fly up to my neighbor’s roof, which was just beyond the fence where the feeder was hanging – about 15-20 feet above the ground. I watched for what seemed like forever as the fledgling made over a dozen feeble attempts to follow. Eventually, it was able to “stair step” its way up to the roof through a series of short flying bursts on shrubs and branches resting as it slowly worked its way up to meet the male cardinal. Once the fledgling made it to the roof, the male cardinal began to display an unusual behavior. He went to the backside of the pitched roof and jumped straight up into the wind, which was gusting over the peak. While in the air, being buffeted by the wind, he flapped his wings several times to maintain vertical height and then dropped back down on the backside of the peak. I was intrigued about this display and became even more interested in watching as I had never seen that type of behavior before. The male cardinal repeated this behavior several times in a row while the young fledgling rested on the roof nearby. To my surprise, the fledgling began to imitate the behavior of the male cardinal; jumping up, flapping its wings in the wind that was gusting over the peak of the roof and then dropping back down. In one of those “Ah-ha!” moments, I realized what was happening; the male cardinal was teaching the fledgling how to fly by using the wind to strengthen its wings. Just as I came to the realization of what I was seeing, the female cardinal arrived at the “training ground”; resting and watching. Wow! I felt as if I was visually eavesdropping on the cardinal family, but at the same time, I was completely overwhelmed by the privilege of seeing this important step toward the fledgling learning to fly. What an amazing picture of how God strengthens us in our faith! As “fledgling” Christians, we work hard to simply balance and get used to the wings that we have received from Christ. As with the fledgling, we have within us an innate knowledge that they have a greater purpose; we know that we are meant to really fly. As we face trials and difficulties in life, we look to other Christians who are “older” in the faith to mentor us and show us how to fly. However, we not only learn by watching, but also by doing. Each time the gusting winds of trial blow across the roof, we are tested in our faith. That testing requires that we use all of the strength we can muster; jumping up and facing the wind head-on. Still, the strength that we have within us is not enough. It may help us to take flight initially but we need “God-sized strength” to carry us through the long journey of life. We do not have strength within us to gain the altitude that God intended for us to have. The ability to soar to new heights can only come from Him. The prophet Isaiah, proclaimed God’s wisdom and truth to the people of Israel during a very stormy time in history. In Isaiah 40, he speaks of the sovereignty of God, but also of the strength that the Lord provides to those who put their hope in Him. “He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; whey will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Isaiah 40:29-31 Isaiah Chapter 40 is entitled “Comfort for God’s people” and what a comfort it is to know that when we are tired and weary, that our strength will be renewed by simply “hoping” in the Lord. As we face the inevitable gusting winds of trials in our lives, we must test our wings by facing them head-on and hoping in the Lord. He is the only one that will give us the strength we need to soar to heights beyond our own expectations.
