An Invitation to my Sacred Space

Last week I entered into my 4th year of actively participating in the season of Lent, with ashes on my forehead as well.  No, I am not Catholic, as some might quickly assume.  I am a Protestant.  I do, however, attend weekly mass and spend quality time in meditation at a local Catholic church.  This practice started three years ago when my mother, a practicing Catholic, passed away shortly before Lent.

Ashes in cups

Cups of ashes from the Ash Wednesday service.

My Weekly Prayer Practice

It was in those first times of prayer there that the Lord showed up, gave me incredible peace, and started to speak to me in ways I’d never experienced before.  Those weekly visits became my Lenten practice that first year.  I’ve continued ever since, but not just for Lent.

Those first few months when I had one foot in my Protestant Church and another at the local Catholic Church were very difficult for me.  I knew God was doing something in me.  I knew/know that my identity in Christ was/is secured.

What I learned about myself in the process is that I am a contemplative, as described in the book Sacred Pathways by Gary Thomas.  It is how I best get in touch with God.  I came to understand that it didn’t matter if I was Protestant or Catholic.  It is faith that pleases God (Hebrews 11:6).

I was encouraged and supported through this spiritually growing time by Protestant pastors who accepted my unique walk of faith, and my not doing “church in a box.”  I was living missionally.  These visits to the Catholic Church also helped me to connect with my Spanish family and gave me a longing to worship in Spain, like I did last summer.  This has had major ripple effects in my spiritual walk and in God’s Kingdom in many ways here and abroad.*

WP_20140312_008Welcome to my Sacred Space

In light of my unique perspective, I thought I would share with my readers what it is like for me, a contemplative Protestant, to worship in a Catholic Church.  In so doing, maybe some of my readers won’t judge the Catholics so harshly, or maybe the Protestant Churches could learn something about this as well.  I am not advocating one way or the other is correct.  It is merely my perspective; and I am not a seminary student, an ordained minister, or a theologian.

First of all, I believe that no church can ‘meet’ everyone’s needs.  Yes, Jesus can meet all of their needs, but the way one church structures their church service, or the ‘vibe’ of the church, will not appeal to everyone.  I don’t think it is about structure; it is about content.  It is about preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

One thing that is consistent about the Catholic Church is that they all have a set structure or order to the mass.  They even have the same scripture readings in all churches throughout the world, as dictated by the head of the Catholic Church.  (Not sure exactly if that is the Pope or some organization under him.   As I said, I’m not an expert on this.  The idea here is that it is divinely revealed as to what scripture is read worldwide.)  Those scripture readings are published in various publications and online.

I have to admit that in the past, I was one of those people who felt that the mass was just a bunch of rote responses and prescribed prayers.  As I’ve come to view it and take it in, I see that it is a beautiful dialogue between God and His people.  One could just say the responses, but I prefer to contemplate and say the responses in praise to God.  There is also deliberate quiet time in mass, albeit, much too brief for my liking.  It is all a rhythm back and forth.  To me it feels like an invitation to encounter God.  It is a sacred time.  I covet this time and notice a dramatic difference in my level of peace when I miss it.

WP_20140312_004One last thing, because I’ve been asked and know people are curious.  I don’t take communion—not because I don’t want to.  It’s because I’d have to become a member of the Catholic Church.  I’ve had lots of dialogue around that topic with priests, pastors, and even bloggers.  Instead I receive a blessing from the priest.  (And that is a topic for another post, but you can check out a very enlightening post by a Catholic blogger that I follow and admire.)

Find Him in the Stillness

Well, that’s a glimpse into my sacred space.  If you are reading this post on a Wednesday morning, you could actually walk into the small chapel of that church and see me praying, reading scripture, or journaling my conversations with God.  My friends and family all know I’m there, interceding on their behalf and talking with God.  But now it is late Tuesday night as I write this, and I will turn in so I don’t miss my weekly appointment with God.

What are you doing to give God more space in your life?  I know that if you give him the stillness of your day, and seek Him, you will find Him.  I love those who love me, and those who seek me find me. (Proverbs 8:17, NIV)

*Live locally and interested in what those ripple effects are?  You can request information about my next speaking opportunity through my Contact Page.

This post is listed on Christian Mommy Blogger/Fellowship Fridays and Missional Women/Faith Filled Friday.

For a Heart Blessed with the Sound of Music

At the beginning of the year, I crossed another item off my bucket list—well, sort of.  I’m a big fan of the film The Sound of Music.  My actual bucket list item would be to take the Sound of Music tour in Salzburg, Austria, where the movie was filmed 50 years ago.  But since that is fairly unlikely, I did the next best thing. I attended a Sound of Music Sing-A-Long at the 5th Avenue Theater in Seattle on New Year’s weekend.

Sound of Music MarqueeWhat is a Sound of Music Sing-A-Long?

I first heard about this event from the special features section of my Sound of Music DVD.  They showed a sing-a-long at the Hollywood Bowl in California.  People dressed in costumes and participated in various sing-a-long theatrics while the movie was showing (similar to what is done for The Rocky Horror Picture Show).  It was a comical idea, but I didn’t think I’d ever actually go to one.

Then last fall when I wrote The Little Girl Inside, a post about the significance of the Sound of Music to me and how it intersected with my trip to Spain, I searched for the sing-a-long event online.  I filed the Seattle event away mentally, not sure if I could free up the time over the holidays or who would want to attend.

As the days quickly passed toward the New Year’s weekend, I vacillated between going by myself, inviting others, and not going at all.  I ended up going by myself, and I’m so glad I did.  I didn’t quite know what to expect at the event.  I was having a rough time emotionally over the holidays and didn’t know how I would react to the production.  I wanted to experience it privately, so to speak—or at least to be anonymous in the crowd of strangers.  It was such a memorable event in so many ways.

What happened at the Sing-A-Long?

When I arrived at the theater, I immediately saw people dressed up for the costume contest. Thankfully they were in the minority.  There were nuns, people dressed in lederhosen, children dressed as the Von Trapp family, etc.  The contest preceded the movie.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Before the movie started an announcer appeared on stage to give us instructions on how to use the goody bag items during the movie.  This was not a passive movie-going experience.  And you weren’t expected to just sing, you were to interact with the movie at prescribed times as well.

The announcer and his assistants demonstrate gestures for “Do, Re, Mi”.

The announcer and his assistants demonstrate gestures for “Do, Re, Mi”.

Other interactive ways we participated were when specific characters appeared on the screen:

  • For Maria, we cheered.
  • For the Nazi’s, we booed.
  • For Rolf, the love interest of Liesl, we barked like a dog, “ruff, ruff”.
  • For Baroness von Schraeder, we hissed.

And every once in a while someone in the audience would shout out a humorous remark. There were other ways that we interacted with the movie as well, but I won’t spoil it for others who may opt to go in the future, which I highly recommend doing.

Props from the goody bag: a swatch of curtain fabric, Edelweiss,
an invitation to the ball, a party popper for the ‘big kiss’, and flash cards.

On a More Serious Note

For me the best part of the event was the opening scene of the movie.  It started out with the announcer making comical comments and shouting to Maria, but his antics were quickly overshadowed by the grandeur of the movie.

The movie opens with the camera panning over breathtaking views of the Alps and Salzburg, Austria.  It eventually zooms in on Maria, played by Julie Andrews, coming up over the crest of a hill onto a grassy knoll.  The instrumental prelude for “The Sound of Music” main theme song is building in the background when Maria bursts out singing with her arms stretched wide:

“The Hills are alive with the sound of music,
With songs they have sung for a thousand years,
The hills fill my heart with the sound of music,
My heart wants to sing every song it hears…

…I go to the hills when my heart is lonely,
I know I will hear what I’ve heard before,
My heart with be blessed with the sound of music,
And I’ll sing once more.”
© 1959 Rogers & Hammerstein

I was lost in the moment as the song naturally flowed from my lips in perfect sync with Julie Andrews’ glorious voice, and the voices of over 2000 other enthusiastic movie fans.  A few tears were shed as I was overtaken by the magic and emotion of this sentimental memory from my childhood.  At the end of the song, the theater burst into applause, which they did after every song just like it was a live performance.

If you’ve never seen the movie, or you want to experience the opening scene from a sing-a-long perspective, watch this short video.

The lyrics were highlighted word by word for each song in the movie.

The lyrics were highlighted word by word for each song in the movie.

Singing Once More

A buried part of me came alive when my mother passed away three years ago; and music was a part of that awakening.  I encourage you to find the hidden treasures that are buried within you as well—the little creative things that give you joy.  When you do, embrace it as a special part of who you are.  And maybe like me, you’ll sing once more.

This post is listed on Christian Mommy Blogger/Fellowship Fridays and Missional Women/Faith Filled Friday.

A Love Letter to Mom & Annual Tribute

I’ve come to annually mark the passing of my mother by writing her a letter.  This year I was at my annual winter scrapbooking retreat amongst friends—just like I was the day before I got word of my mother’s passing in 2011.  Again I was working on my mother’s tribute album.

Tribute AlbumSetting the Stage to Write

Three years later this scrapbook remains part of my healing process as it retraces my steps before and after she died—the visits back home, meeting with her health care providers, making end-of-life decisions, giving her eulogy, and burying her remains.  It is the visual story that was eventually published in Journeys to Mother Love.  It is a beautiful tribute album—not necessarily for others’ eyes, but something between my mother and me.

This year the anniversary letter was harder to write than last year.  After my arrival at the retreat, I was told that Wanda, the woman who has organized and run these retreats over the years, wasn’t going to be joining us.  Her husband who suffered with Parkinson’s had taken a turn for the worse and was put on hospice.  His end of life was very near.  It hit us all by surprise, and gave us an opportunity to privately lift her in prayer and share our own feelings about this sad turn of events.

Final goodbyesFor me the timing hit too close to home as our discussion turned to end-of-life decisions and the role women often provide in caring for our loved ones.  On the outside I was listening to the conversation, but in my mind I was back at my mother’s side caring for her at the nursing home on one of my visits back home.  It was as if my bittersweet memories from before were now being lived out by Wanda and her family.  Sadly, her husband passed away a few days later.

Embracing the Grief

It was in that context of grief, that my letter to my mother freely flowed through my fingers to the keyboard, and with it a few well-earned tears.  I know my mom can’t physically answer my letter, but something tells me she’ll find a way to let me know she received it.

Below is an excerpt of that letter.  I hope it inspires you to do the same for someone you love—past or present—and let your healing turn to hope.

Mom and kidsA Love Letter to Mom

“Dear Mom,

I admire your perseverance. You lived a long life. Fate hit you a terrible blow when you suffered your nervous breakdown at the age of 35, and me as well, when I was six. Our journeys to emotional healing both started that day.

Now 48 years later I am approaching mine in a new way, with a different battle plan in place. No more white-knuckling it. I am choosing to take medication (for my ADHD).

…Anyway, Mom, the point of all this is that your passing put all of the pieces together for me to even consider this route for me, and for my son (who also has ADHD).  I am now an advocate for him.  I am an advocate for myself.  I am learning more about ADHD and how to help both of us.

I don’t know what lies ahead for us as we journey down this road on medication.  I don’t know what it was like for you.  I’m saddened that I never got to talk to you about any of this.  I’m saddened that I didn’t get to know you as an adult.  I’m saddened I didn’t really get to know you.

But I wanted you to know that as horrible as your life was for so many years after the nervous breakdown, the divorce, in and out of mental hospitals, etc. that it has served to help me to fight for myself and my son now. I am more open to trying and exploring how I can lead a more normal life with the support of medication.  I am taking back control of my life and my emotional health.

So I thank you Mom for not leaving me a legacy of mental illness.  You left me a gift that I get to integrate into my life.  That gift is the gift of perseverance and hope in the Lord through all things. 

I know what I am going through is important and life changing.  I know there are many others like me who have also suffered in silence as they lived in the shadow of mental illness.

I love you Mom.  Thank you for persevering to the end and giving life back to me in the process.

Love,
Ardis”

Peace to you and your family Wanda, from your scrapbooking sisters.

Peace to you and your family Wanda, from your scrapbooking sisters.

Updated 6/1/2014: Wanda’s husband passed away a few days after the scrapbooking weekend. Through a sad turn of events, Wanda also passed away a few months later. Remembering Wanda is the tribute I wrote to our dear friend and scrapbooking mentor.

This post is listed on Christian Mommy Blogger/Fellowship Fridays and Missional Women/Faith Filled Friday.

A Tribute to Mom, Part 2 – Her Final Gift

This week marks the 3-year anniversary of my mother’s passing. Last year I shared her eulogy on my blog. It continues to be the post with the most hits (interest). I am sharing it again to commemorate the sacrifice my mother’s life became for me. May it inspire you to turn your healing into hope.

ardisanelson's avatarMaking Me Bold

When I started writing for a public audience, I knew that many of my initial writings and journal would potentially become published.  They were the basis for much of what I wrote in my story “Walking My Mother Home”, published in “Journeys to Mother Love”.  One year after the acceptance of that story by Cladach Publishing, and to mark the anniversary of my mother’s passing,

View original post 1,518 more words

What Team Are You Rooting For?

I live in Seattle, Washington.  If you are living in the U.S., you’d have to be living the life of a hermit to not know that the Seattle Seahawks are playing in the Super Bowl on Sunday.  It is our second time to play in this sacred American football game.  The first time was in 2006 when we played against the Pittsburgh Steelers.  I remember it well because it was a frustrating game to watch.  Seattleites felt cheated out of a Super Bowl victory due to some poor officiating.  This time around I’m hoping and praying for better calls on the field.

At a Seahawks rally before the Super Bowl in 2006.

Former Seattle Mayor Greg Nichols addresses the crowd at a Seahawks rally before the Super Bowl in 2006.

My Sports Affiliation

I don’t follow sports in general, and am not a football fan by nature.  I grew up in the St. Louis area in the 1970s, and thanks to my maternal grandfather and my favorite uncle, I was groomed to be a fan of the MLB St. Louis Cardinals.  That was back in the days when Lou Brock, Bob Gibson, Joe Torre, and Keith Hernandez were the stars of the team.

When I moved to Seattle as an adult, I transferred my fan loyalty to the Seattle Mariners.  (Yes, it’s been a rough tenure to be a Mariners fan.)  We have had our moments though, like the 1995 ‘Refuse to Lose’ pennant race and the 2001 season–when 8 team members were on the MLB American League All-Star team, and we tied the MLB record of 116 wins in a season.

I have instilled that love for baseball into my sons too—to some degree anyway.  There were several years when we made a ritual of going to Opening Day games together or we’d stand in line for players’ signatures at the dugout.  In reality, it was more of my passion, but we did have fun together.

Mariner's Opening Day 2009, watching the return of Ken Griffey, Jr. to Seattle with my son.

Mariner’s Opening Day 2009, watching the return of Ken Griffey, Jr. to Seattle with my son.

Jumping on the Bandwagon

The point behind all this sports talk is about how we can jump on the bandwagon for the next best thing.  We have to be careful who we align ourselves with and what team we are rooting for.  It’s easy to get caught up in the hype of the next best ‘thing’.  I know I have–remember Beanie Babies?

I’m not saying we shouldn’t get excited for the Seahawks going to the Super Bowl.  On the contrary, I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t follow things more closely this year.  Local friends are going all out with their Facebook posts.  Everyone is wearing team clothing or the team colors.  The 12th Man flag is flying all over town.

When Sunday’s game rolls around, I’ll be cheering the Seahawks on to victory.  I’ll be all caught up in the excitement with everyone else in Seattle.  GO HAWKS!

Seahawks Boeing 747

The Battle for Our Lives

The real game or fight though is the battle for our souls.  It is a battle where our main foe is Satan—the father of all lies.  1 Peter 5:8 tells us: He prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.  Like the receiver who runs with abandon toward the end zone for a touchdown, we have to be on guard for Satan’s attacks.  He has a game plan designed to divert us from leading the life God intends for us.

I’ve been on Jesus’ team for many years.  Although I know the victory is His, there are many times in my life when I can’t see that in the physical world, and it is hard for me to believe—due to tragic world events or what is going on in my personal life.  I’ve learned to trust Him no matter what.

So the question I am posing today is not necessarily who are you rooting for in the Super Bowl, but more importantly, whose team are you on?  When the 2-minute warning goes off, whose side are you going to be on?  The side for eternal life or eternal death?  It’s not a difficult choice.  Check out the video below produced by the Seahawks, and then you can decide.

P.S. I don’t think God is siding with the Seahawks or the Broncos for a victory at Sunday’s Super Bowl game, but I sure hope we find some favor with the referees this time around.  🙂

12th man Seattle skyline

Updated 2/2/2014:  Seahawks win 43-8 over the Broncos!  What an unbelievable victory! The first words out of QB Russell Wilson’s mouth, “God is so good.”  Yes, He is!  Thanks for bringing the Lombardi Trophy home to Seattle.  Thanks for displaying such a wonderful walk of faith and grace under pressure.

Seahawks QB Russell Wilson post Super Bowl comments, "Why not us?"

Seahawks QB Russell Wilson post Super Bowl comments, “Why not us?”

Stop, Look & Listen to God

On New Year’s Day 2014, I attended mass at a local Catholic Church.  I suppose it may seem like a strange thing for a Protestant to do, but it has become commonplace for me on special occasions.  It was the perfect time for God to show up and remind me of what brought me here in the first place, and to give me direction for the New Year.

The Fruit of Spiritual Growth

It was three years ago this month that He put the wheels in motion for my first step into this church.  Within weeks God brought about the amazing revelations and healing that led to my writing “Walking My Mother Home” published in Journeys to Mother Love.  So I sat in church reflecting, and taking in the significance of how God has aligned so many events and brought so many people in my life these past several years that led to my unique walk of faith.

One place of my reflection and prayer in Spain on the island of Mallorca, July 2013.

One place of my reflection and prayer in Spain on the island of Mallorca, July 2013.

There are too many to thank here, but they know who they are:  pastors, support group leaders, and men and women of faith, here and abroad.  They encouraged me to follow where God was leading me, to reclaim my identity, and to live missionally.  They planted seeds of righteousness in me.  They fertilized my dreams of bringing Glory to God through my writing and my voice.

After 13 years of actively seeking spiritual growth and ten years of recovery, they have supported me in my journey to turn my weakness into victory, and my brokenness into a personal ministry of compassion for the poor in spirit.

Stop-Look-and-Listen-to-God-Large-Poster-9780764707513A Word from the Lord

“What’s next, Lord?” I asked during a moment of silent prayer in church.  The word He immediately gave me was ‘STOP’.  It wasn’t to stop serving or reaching out to others.  It was more like ‘stop, look, and listen’.

In all of my excitement about going to Spain last year, it wasn’t unusual for me to get ahead of God or to start acting on something that really wasn’t the right time.  Case in point, I thought I was supposed to speak in Spain and eagerly jumped into setting up talks and honing my speaking skills.

“Not now,” He lovingly told me.  “But, but, but…”  I knew I had to let go and trust Him.

The other word that God gave me for 2014 was ‘reflect’.  That doesn’t sound like a hard thing for a contemplative to do.  I spend hours in prayer every week; so what’s the difference this year?  God reminded me recently of a scripture that He gave me when all of these amazing things started to happen.  It was Luke 2:19, “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”

I have gotten away from that posture in the past two years.  I was so excited about traveling to Spain, being a first time author, and Pedro’s music success, that I haven’t slowed down much to just take it all in.  It is a normal part of my life now, but there are times that I forget to do as Mary did.  Don’t act on it, just treasure it.

treasure heart verseTreasures of the Heart

God made some pretty big deposits in my heart these last few years.  He has given me new dreams for the coming year and beyond.  This year I want to be more deliberate in noticing when to stop, look, and listen for His guidance.  I want to abide more and react less.  Maybe that even means not being so bold on my blog, sharing so much, or so often.

Whatever it takes, I want to be in alignment with God’s will for my life and to wait for His perfect timing.  Hopefully by the end of 2014, I can attest to His building the fruit of patience in me like never before.  And I’ll have more things to treasure in my heart for the coming year.

What is your focus for 2014?

The Reality of Culture Shock

I’ve heard it said that ignorance is bliss.  After my summer in Spain, I’d have to say that ignorance is definitely not bliss.

With all the physical, mental, and spiritual preparation I did for my trip, I never once thought to research what it was like to live in a foreign country.  I heard of culture shock, didn’t really know anything about it except for the general term, and didn’t think for a moment that it was something I needed to be aware of.

Beautiful monuments, statues, cathedrals, and architecture--constant visual reminders that I wasn't in America. (Plaza Mayor, Madrid)

Beautiful monuments, statues, cathedrals, and architecture–constant visual reminders that I wasn’t in America. (Plaza Mayor, Madrid)

What is Culture Shock?

Merriam-Webster.com defines culture shock as “a sense of confusion and uncertainty sometimes with feelings of anxiety that may affect people exposed to an alien culture or environment without adequate preparation.”

All the while I was in Spain; there were no outward signs of culture shock.  I thought I was adjusting well to all of the changes in environment (except the heat).  My host family repeatedly told me how well I fit in with the Spanish lifestyle.  But inside there was something much deeper going on.  I pushed the anxiety and the doubts about what I was going through aside.  I took each day as a new day to experience Spain, and document everything I could in any free moment I could steal away to myself.

Acting like a stereo-typical tourist, while also fitting in with the Spanish lifestyle, Madrid

Acting like a stereo-typical tourist, while also fitting in with the Spanish lifestyle, Madrid

My Quest for Answers

After I returned home, I did some research on what it is like to physically live in a foreign country.  I found out that culture shock is a real psychological phenomenon.  I stumbled upon it while doing research for some of my earlier posts about Spain.

There is a lot on the internet about culture shock, and this is not intended to a be a lesson about it.  I did find out though that there are four phases: honeymoon, negotiation, adjustment and mastery.  Clearly I never made it to a point of mastery, but was definitely trying to quickly adapt through the other three phases.  Another source listed them as stages: wonder, frustration, depression and acceptance.  Just as surprising to me was finding out about reverse culture shock.  All of this explains why I had a hard time re-entering my life in the U.S. and also explains the bouts of depression I experienced.

The psychological effects of culture shock.

The psychological effects of culture shock.

In my quest for answers to what I had gone through, I started to follow blogs of other non-natives living in Spain.  I found sites from ex-pats living in Spain, ESL teachers, pilgrims journeying on the Way of St. James, and the like.  It was a relief to be able to observe their experiences, communicate with them, and most importantly to know that I was not alone in what I was going through.

I’ve also spoken with some missionary friends.  One pointed me to an article on “trailing spouse syndrome”.  I had never heard of that either, but reading that served as another relief for my emotionally weary soul.

Brave or Naïve?

Many people have told me that I was brave to go to Spain alone like that.  Every time someone said that I thought, “but I won’t be alone.”  I was going to live with people I already knew.  Little did I know how this would affect me.

I think that since Pedro, our Spanish host son, so easily adapted to family life in America, and never said anything or showed any evidence of his own culture shock, I just took it for granted that my transition would be smooth as well.  He fit in with us so easily; I think I forgot he was Spanish.

Being brave? No, it's just a unique way of mailing a letter. (Toledo, Spain)

Being brave? No, it’s just a unique way of mailing a letter. (Toledo, Spain)

I am so grateful to my Spanish family for hosting me and opening up my eyes to life in their country.  I miss Spain.  I miss my Spanish family—all 26 of them.  I know I’ll return someday and am already planting those seeds for a trip with my husband.

So was I brave or naïve in journeying to Spain for six weeks last summer?  It was definitely brave!  I have no regrets—only gratitude to my heavenly Father for the experience, the lessons, the love, and the hope He has given me for how He wants to use it for His glory.

Showing off my bravery by eating new foods--pulpo de gallego, a Spanish favorite (Octopus Galician style)

Showing off my bravery by eating new foods–pulpo de gallego, a Spanish favorite (Octopus Galician style)

Living in the Shadow of Mental Illness

It’s no secret that my mother was mentally ill—not now anyway.  I’ve written about it on my blog and was the basis for my published story in Journeys to Mother Love (Cladach Publishing).  Chapter 8 in the Table of Contents reads: Distanced by Mental Illness, Walking my Mother Home, by Ardis A. Nelson.  There it is; my lifelong struggle in black and white on the page for all to see.

Chapter 8 is my story.

Chapter 8 is my story.

I’ve heard from many people how they resonated with my story.  It is usually in regards to how they are caring for a loved one at the end of life or it touches an accord with those whose parent has died.  It gives them hope and encouragement for the journey no matter how recent or faraway the experience was.

Distancing Myself

My story isn’t just about how I re-established contact and cared for my mentally ill mother at the end of her life though.  The bigger story is how I distanced myself from getting to know myself as well.  At 53 years old, it is what I am still working through.  It is the theme of the memoir that I hope to someday have published.

The Bible tells us in Matthew 10:38 that as followers of Christ we all have a cross to bear.  My cross seems to be the legacy that I have of living in the shadows of a mother who had mental illness.  Even though I had amazing healing when my mother died (as mentioned in my published story), I can still revert to my negative way of thinking and seeing things through the filter of mental illness in my family.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

Many people live in the shadow of mental illness.  They were raised in a family with a parent who was mentally ill.  Or maybe they grew up hearing stories about crazy Aunt Sue or Uncle Joe.  I know I did; and it wasn’t just about my mother, but others in the family as well.

When I was growing up there was a huge stigma attached to mental illness.  There were barbaric practices perpetuated on mental patients—witness the movie, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” from 1975.

Jack Nicholson's character receiving shock therapy, a barbaric practice, in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest."

Jack Nicholson’s character receiving shock therapy, a barbaric practice, in “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.”

I saw that movie in the theater when I was 15.  The movie hit way to close to home as my mother was in and out of mental hospitals and had shock therapy when I was in elementary school.  Watching that movie scared me and maybe even scarred me emotionally.

Last November when I started work on my memoir as part of National Novel Writing Month, NaNoWriMo, I watched that movie again for the first time in over 30 years.  It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be, but I think that was because I watched it more for historical reasons and for context in my memoir writing.  In other words, I detached myself from my emotions.  I thank God that wasn’t my fate.

Emotional Highs and Lows

At this stage of life with hormones raging out of control, it is hard at times to not let that dark cloud and fear of mental illness grab a hold of me.  It seemed to hit me particularly hard after my time in Spain.  It’s no wonder.

The movie is still playing, although at times it may feel like it's over.

The movie is still playing, although at times it may feel like it’s over.

I’ve been on an emotional high the last few years as I stepped into the world of publishing as a first time author, launched Pedro’s professional music career, and prepared for my trip to Spain.  It has often felt like a dream to me—or as I’ve openly expressed—like a movie with Pedro’s music as the soundtrack.

Three months after my return home, I’ve finally re-adjusted to life in America.  As I slowed down and re-focused my attention on my own self-care, at times it felt like the credits scrolled by on the screen and the music stopped playing.  Just like in the theater, all that was left was the mess on the floor to clean up—most notably a body that was exhausted and sometimes depressed.

Rejecting the Lie

I’m discovering some profound things about myself as I work through this next layer of healing.   I know it is what God is requiring from me so that He can more fully use me for His bigger purpose.  As I do, I am clinging to my identity in Christ and not some worn out lie or stigma.

Are you believing a lie from your past?  Who will you believe—our heavenly Father who loves you, or the Evil One, the thief and father of all lies?  What are you doing to flip the switch in your thinking? 

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. (John 10:10, NIV)

Turning to the Dark Side

I’ve been blogging for over two years and recently reached a blogging milestone of 100 posts.  I started out slow, blogging when the mood hit me and now consistently post once a week.  That may not sound like much, but at times it has been a chore—to either fit it in my schedule or to force the writing to come out.

100 postsThe Growing Pains of Blogging

My blogging has grown a lot over the last year.  I’m now starting to see that my focusing on Spain for so long was mentally draining on me.  I pushed myself physically while traveling and also mentally to blog while there.  I don’t regret it because at least for me personally I’m glad to have documented my trip in that way—not the standard travel log.

I’m starting to get my writer’s sea legs back now with inspiration that comes from deep within.  That is what led me to writing and blogging in the first place so it feels good.

But blogging isn’t always a feel good thing for me.  I think if bloggers were really honest with themselves, they’d have to admit that they’ve felt some anxiety or tension at one time or another when it comes time to publish a post.  It is a scary and vulnerable position to put yourself out on the internet for all the world to see—especially when you are sharing your personal story.

Then there are the voices within that tell us that the number of followers we have or the number of ‘likes’ on our posts somehow dictates our value or is a true indicator of our writing skill.  (I know I’m not alone in my thinking.)  It happens I’m sure in any creative endeavor.  We have to be sure of ourselves and our message.  That is where my identity in Christ helps me.

Publish IconPublishing Humiliation

In my quest for healing, I recently discovered that my publishing fears were deeper rooted than just the typical “will people accept me” or like my writing.  I was having a particularly hard time releasing my worries in publishing a post, and then it all came back to me.

When I was in college, I turned from my desires to be a journalist to something much more analytical—an accountant.  Sometimes I hung out with the crowd at the college newspaper, never writing stories though.  My first semester communications courses brutally killed that dream.

My extracurricular passion was serving as the music director at the college radio station.  During a period of transition in management at the radio station, I wrote a letter to the editor of the newspaper.  I don’t remember what it was about specifically, but it wasn’t a flattering piece.  I got a lot of flak for that letter.  Worse yet, the station manager wrote a rebuttal to the editor in the next publication.  I was publically humiliated in front of my peers.

I could go on and on about how I might have felt justified, or whatever.  The point is that when I publish a post on my blog, sometimes that humiliation is triggered in me—the deep fear of saying or doing something that will be misunderstood or land on someone the wrong way.  Recognizing that trigger has helped me to release that fear.

Getting comfortable behind the mic again at WMCR (25th college reunion)

Getting comfortable behind the mic again at WMCR (25th college reunion)

Writing Crossroads

At my one year blogging milestone, I wrote a piece about writing for “An Audience of One”.  I like to think that audience of One is my heavenly Father.  Realistically though, I sometimes get in the way of that.  I know that my writing serves to inspire some of my friends and family.  I’m very grateful for their acknowledgments of that.  In my darker days, it is just what I need to encourage me to keep going.

Now that I’ve passed my second year blogging milestone, I feel like I’m at a crossroads with my writing.  I enjoy blogging, but realistically I’ve felt more like a blogger than a writer this past year.  I’ve been so busy and focused on Spain that my memoir has sat dormant on my computer since November 30, 2012—the last day of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo).  It was a labor of love to churn out over 30,000 words in 30 days.  It was also very intense and emotionally draining.  Oddly enough, I’m considering picking up that work in progress in November, but not with that kind of intensity.

I need a writing discipline in my life in order to tackle the huge project ahead of me.  NaNoWriMo was that last year.  So I am preparing myself for the next leg of my writing journey.  If my memoir is ever finished and sees the light of day, I’ll have much bigger fears to overcome.  Until then I’ll keep training that ‘publish’ muscle one post at a time.

Shakespeare blogger

PS.  If you want to know what I learned from my second year of blogging, it is to not be concerned about the length of my posts.  When I started blogging I followed all the suggestions about size, content, etc.  But I’ve noticed that my favorite author blogs don’t publish short posts.  That doesn’t stop me from reading to the end.  I’m not concerned about my word counts any more.  I read for quality and depth of story, so that is what I am shooting for here as well.  Thanks for your interest in my work and reading to the end!

Breaking the Silence & Letting Go

Two months after my return from Spain I still haven’t been able to piece together what to write about how my trip relates to the continuation of my story in “Journeys to Mother Love”.  Over the last few years I’ve openly blogged about it and told my friends how significant this trip was for me.

I was meeting Rosa after three years of waiting, praying, emailing, Skyping and planning.  She learned English to facilitate our face to face communications.  Except for the post I wrote about my first day in Spain, I have been silent about that part of my trip, and the writing in general.

At the Alcala Gate with Rosa, Madrid.

At the Alcala Gate with Rosa, Madrid.

As a writer, that silence on my blog feels deafening.  I had so much expectancy for this trip and so much riding on the outcome.  I even wrote a post on journeystomotherlove.com, A Match Made in Heaven, on my anticipation for this journey.  But now I am struggling with what and how to write about it.  Writer’s block?  Maybe, but I’m inclined to think there is more to it.

Letting go of Expectations

Early on in my trip, I realized I had to let go of the expectation that I would write about Rosa’s side of the story—what happened in Spain when prayers were sent from America in the midst of her sorrow.  While Rosa showed me places that were significant with her side of the story, like her parents’ home (which was also her childhood home) and the church where her mother’s funeral was held, God revealed to me that the story I am to tell is more about my journey.  Rosa was a conduit for my healing.  We were both blessed by our mutual encouragement and prayers. 

Taking the tram with Rosa from Soller to Palma, Mallorca, for a day of sightseeing.

Taking the tram with Rosa from Soller to Palma, Mallorca, for a day of sightseeing.

When I stepped on Spanish soil I was ready to experience the trip of a lifetime.  I was open to experiencing God in a new way.  I had already let go of so many expectations—like not professionally speaking while there and not having the Spanish translation of my story published in advance.  I decided to trust God for His purposes for this trip.

While I was in Spain, the Lord slowly stripped me of much more.  The biggest thing for me to surrender was how much my identity has been wrapped up in my writing and the publishing of my story.  I went with the expectation that people in Spain could relate to my story, like they have in America.  I was grateful for the few opportunities to give away copies of Journeys to Mother Love.  Outside of those times, I felt very invisible as a writer and in my faith.  A lot of that was also because I didn’t know the language well enough either.

One copy of my book graces the book shelves at my apartment in the Port of Soller, with the best reading view of the Mediterranean, August 2013.

One copy of my book graces the book shelves at my apartment in the Port of Soller, with the best reading view of the Mediterranean, August 2013.

Before I was a published author, I knew God wanted to use my story.  I knew He was making me bold (witness my blog name).  But being in Spain led me to question much of that and my writing.

In hindsight, I think a lot of it had to do with the cultural and spiritual differences between our countries.  They became more real and visible to me.  I know now that the only way I could see that and understand it was to be stripped of that part of me and my voice.  It was a painful process—one I’m still trying to integrate.  I know He is transforming me again.

Moving Forward

42 days is a long time to explore a country.  I had the most amazing escapades while in Spain with my host family.  I had wonderful adventures in Madrid, Toledo, Segovia, Granada, Cordoba, Seville and on the island of Mallorca.  I have 5,000 photos that bring my trip and so many special memories back to life for me.

In time some of that will show up on my blog.  I don’t doubt that God wants to use my story or this trip in some way.  He has given me new insights into my journey.  He has given me new insights into the writing process.  Meanwhile, I am clinging to my identity as a child of God and learning to let go (again).  I am grateful for the journey—the good and the bad—and what lies ahead.

Do I want to know what that is?  Am I nervous about it?  Do I want to control it?  Absolutely!  I can only take one day at a time and trust that He’ll use the story He is crafting in me to inspire others to turn healing into hope.  As He does, I know He’ll release me to break more of the silence along the way.

Farewell dinner at my apartment in the Port of Soller, Mallorca, Spain.

Farewell dinner at my apartment in the Port of Soller, Mallorca, Spain.

  • WELCOME to my site!

    I'm an author, writer, speaker, mentor & mom. I've struggled to find my voice all my life as I lived in the shadows of a mother with mental illness. Thankfully that was not the legacy that she handed down to me. It took a lot of recovery and deep healing work to rise above it.

    I am thankful to God for Making Me Bold in the process. Now I use my writing and speaking voice to help others on their journey to turn healing into hope.

  • Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

    Join 337 other subscribers
  • Recent Posts

  • Ardis A Nelson ~ Writer ~ Speaker

  • Most Popular Topics

    12 step adapting to change Celebrate Recovery celebrations Christianity encouragement faithful family following your dreams friendship gifts God God's timing gratitude grieving our losses healing hope identity Journeys to Mother Love leaving a legacy letting go music My Spanish Connection obedience Pedro Gonzalez Arbona prayer publishing relationships Rosa saying goodbye Spain spiritual journey struggle trusting God writing
  • What I Write About

  • Songs Composed by Pedro Gonzalez Arbona

  • Copyright Notice

    © Ardis A. Nelson and MakingMeBold, 2023. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ardis A. Nelson and MakingMeBold with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.