Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed perplexed, but not driven to despair persecuted, but not forsaken struck down, but not destroyed always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies… But when I feel tempted to go there I remember the words that the apostle Paul wrote to the church in Corinth. Yes, it’s hard and I know there may be many times when you feel like quitting. The truth is, your story is not over yet. Not just for someone struggling with mental illness but someone in the middle of chemotherapy, in the middle of a divorce, in the middle of any of the inevitable struggles we all face. I thought of how often we need to remember that. She looked down at her wrist again and said, “A semicolon is used when an author could’ve ended a sentence but chose not to. You are the author and the sentence is your life.” “Did you find the conference helpful?” I asked. In those days the Church rarely addressed any area of mental illness. Such little words, but how I would have welcomed them when I was in the middle of the darkest battle of my life. It means that I can look into the eyes of someone else who is suffering and say, ‘me too.’” My name is Sheila Walsh and I am profoundly grateful for the gift of mental illness. It’s something I could never have said for most of my life. I was the speaker on the opening night, which I was grateful for. Former Congressman Patrick Kennedy was a keynote and many, many more were there as well. The line-up of speakers was impressive and intimidating, including United States Surgeon General Vice Admiral Vivek Murthy, and the former head of The American Association of Psychiatrists, whose name eludes me (put it down to the medication!). I was unusually nervous as I flew out to speak that first night. The genesis of this event was the devastating suicide of Kay and Rick’s son, Matthew. Kay Warren had invited me to be a keynote speaker at the first annual symposium on The Church and Mental Health. She told me that she’d heard me speak at a conference hosted by Saddleback Church. I joined after I heard you speak,” she said. “It’s about choosing to live one more day,” she said. She looked down at it and rubbed her fingers over the black ink. When she sat down I noticed an unusual tattoo on her wrist. “Would you mind if I joined you for a moment?” she asked. I looked up to see a woman, about my age, tall and slim with short blonde hair. I was just settling into to read my newspaper when I became aware of someone standing in front of me. I chose a cup of tea this time and found a quiet table in the corner. I picked up my briefcase and returned to the coffee shop where I was becoming a familiar face. It was our flight’s third delay and people’s tempers were wearing thin. I decided the announcer must be resting in the truth that, “Faith comes by hearing.”Īpparently most of the people at gate A23 must have been deaf, because patient, they were not. I looked at my fellow passengers and questioned the origin of the gratitude for “our patience,” comment. flight to Dallas, TX will now depart at 5:40 p.m. I was sitting in the departure lounge waiting for my flight to board when that dreaded announcement graced our ears, “The 3:30 p.m.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |