After I had my third child–Sean James, I experienced postpartum depression. It was bad.

I remember going to a woman’s gathering, and telling my best friend, (Becki Crain), how depressed I was. Our conversation was overheard by another woman, who proceeded to tell me that if I trusted in Jesus, I would not be depressed. My countenance fell, sorrow filled my soul. My friend Becki had compassion in her eyes as she looked at me, and then turned to the other woman and said, “One thing doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with the other.”
I relate that story because it has not been my first time, and it probably won’t be my last time, of being judged by other people, and somehow feeling diminished in the process. My first response to this judgement is to want to defend myself. They don’t understand. Perhaps I could make them understand. Perhaps if they understood and agreed with me, I would somehow feel restored.
My second reaction is to try to avoid such people and such encounters in the future. Certainly, after my son Sean died–I did isolate myself. My wounds were too great to have others inadvertently touching them with their clumsy words and possible judgements. When I did experience judgements and corrections—my response was to lash out in anger.
Awhile back, I experienced a situation where I felt judged and misunderstood. I felt very vulnerable. I walked away from that time, so angry with God. How could He not protect me? How could He have allowed me to be so hurt? Then I turned the anger on myself. How could I have put myself in a situation where I would be so vulnerable?
For the past four years, I’ve been going to Celebrate Recovery. Everyone there is dealing with hurts, habits and hang-ups of some sort or another. When we meet in small groups, we start each group by reading through a list of guidelines –things like we aren’t there to fix each other, rather, to listen to each other, and so after each person takes 3 to 5 minutes to talk about their own recovery–no one says anything to fix them. I must tell you—this is glorious!! It definitely gives me a feeling of being safe, heard and understood. (I highly recommend a group like this.)
So—how did I process the previous situation? Well, like God used my friend Becki to comfort me, and correct the other woman, God used another Becky to give me a book, which I read, which greatly comforted me. But mostly, God showed up. Once again, I saw that God is near to the brokenhearted. God, Himself, comforted me. He reminded me that my value and significance was not found in anyone or anything but Him. Others may have legitimate things to say to me—even though they may hurt me at the time– however, everything they say must be brought to the feet of Jesus to see if it is legitimate, and to act on it, if so.
I was able, after that time with the Lord, to speak with each of the people who had spoken to me, not in anger, but in love and forgiveness. I knew this was the gift of the Holy Spirit to me. This was the work of God in my life. Going through this experience has helped me see that I don’t need to avoid people for fear of being hurt by them. People are not my God. God is my God, and His love is never failing. His will is to give me His Joy and Peace—which surpasses all understanding.
May We Be Encouraged!


































