Testimony

Faith is a Process

“Welcome Mrs Davies, please take a seat and I will find your file on our system”

I sat there, my pulse rate increasing as the lady laid out what the government had planned for my life. Apparently, since my son had now turned three years old, I would be required to work sixteen hours per week. My husband was studying for an MSc six days a week and there were no other friends or family who could help.

“So, the government wants me to work for sixteen hours so that I can access the ‘free’ childcare scheme? Wouldn’t it be more cost-effective if I was permitted to care for my own son?”

“I do understand your perspective but I can only operate within the existing system”

I couldn’t stay much longer. The sweat and heart palpitations had morphed into tears and were threatening to do a quick exit. I thanked her, crossed the street, walked into Tesco, located the bathroom, found an empty cubicle, locked the door, and burst into tears.

”God, You led us to Home Educate our children, so why are You now forcing me to change the plan?”

***

The follow-up meeting at my local Job Centre was better - I had probably gone overboard with my Job Seekers' homework.

The one thing in my favour, despite the personal stress… was that our landlord told us he was selling the house; the beloved bungalow where we had spent the second lockdown, where my son had taken his first steps and spoke his first words, where my daughter had multiple playdates and parties.

“What is God doing? What are we doing wrong? I thought He said we would buy property, I thought He asked us to move here, I thought He asked us to Home Educate? All we do is try to do the right, best thing, we gave Him our twenties and thirties to be missionaries, so why is this all happening?”

This was the rant that Simon heard a little too often. Maybe it was a mixture of confusion, disappointment, feeling let down and fatigue that made these questions swirl around in my head, non-stop. I would fall asleep at night repeating “I do believe, forgive my unbelief”.

***

The summer of 2023 was insane. Simon had just graduated with his MSc in Counselling, with Distinction, but was unemployed because of his lack of experience. I was looking for work, but I didn’t know where we would be living. We were using all of our time and energy to pack up the house, search for rentals and make epic memories with our children.

We were exhausted.

I think it was Simon who finally stumbled across the information, which stated that being a student could count as sixteen hours of work. I was overjoyed and began looking at courses. The best course provider seemed to be the Open University, since it had the flexibility that would allow me to Home Educate both of my gorgeous children. I told a few friends about my idea to study and, to my astonishment, they both assumed that I would do Creative Writing.

They seemed so confident in my abilities and I sensed God’s hand highlighting this option. People had always told me I was a talented writer and I had accepted their compliment as being kind, but took them with a pinch of salt. My biggest fear was that the MA would expose me as a terrible writer. But I had no time to dwell on anything. I filled in the forms, sent them away and received an acceptance letter. I had to pack up an entire house, set up a new one and support my children through this emotional process. Then I could think about my studies.

***

Once established in our new rental, I looked at my course module information. I was required to select what type of Creative Writing I wanted to focus on. I had no idea! But Simon, suggested I focus on Creative Nonfiction (true stories, well told).

To be honest, even whilst doing my first assignment, I wasn’t certain what Creative Nonfiction was and my tutor had bluntly stated that “It is very difficult to obtain a Distinction so don’t focus on the grade, just focus on writing to the best of your abilities”.

My first assignment was about Intuitive Eating, an anti-diet approach to eating. I used it as an opportunity to raise awareness about this philosophy and to describe what my Eating Disorders had been like. I suppose it was a montage of my journey from Eating Disorders to being healed and whole. They awarded me a Distinction. But I still didn’t believe that I was an excellent writer; imposter syndrome (fear of being exposed as a fraud) deluded me and only after multiple Distinction results did I believe in myself and took myself seriously as a writer…

“Simon. This is what I was born to do. My whole life I have been searching for what I can be good at, trying to discover my gifts. This is it. Writing. I can’t believe that I am forty years old and only discovering this now. And isn’t God good? He provided a house with a study; He provided an option where I could still Home Educate the kids; He provided a university where I didn’t need to commute to campus - my course didn’t even have lectures, I could do it all as and when I could. And, I am really good at it. So good that my tutor has suggested I do a PhD. And there are loads of Home Educating families here, way more opportunities for the kids and tons of kids on the street that our children can play with. I know we can’t buy a house just yet, but He will provide!”

To take medication, or not, that is the question.

Angharad gives us a snapshot of her process from not taking medication, to being on prescribed antidepressants, long-term. 

I walked down from the church stage, where I had been giving a short testimony of overcoming depression…

An excited couple came up to me and asked, ‘Did you stop your medication?’ To their surprise, I gave an enthusiastic answer. ‘No, I’ve only just started taking them’. I suspect  I may have disappointed them and not met their expectations, as the idea that God could use medication to assist in the healing of mental health conditions still seems to carry a great deal of stigma.


I have often imagined myself speaking to a hypothetical church congregation and challenging them with the following debate: 

How many people here wear glasses or contact lenses?

I would wait for many hands to go up, without shame. I would then ask if they would be willing to dispose of their lenses and frames; trusting God to heal their eyesight.

I will never know the real response to this imagined scenario, but I do know that it is socially acceptable, even for Christians who believe that God can heal, to wear contacts or glasses, without trusting God for a miracle. Yet, if someone has a mental health problem, we can judge the fact that they are taking medication, rather than rejoice in the brilliance of medicine to help people who suffer with poor mental health. 

My father is a scientist and I am indebted to him for raising me to see no disparity between faith and science. God is the ultimate Creator - just think of the entrepreneurship, vision, imagination and creativity required to make us and this beautiful earth. And are we not made in His image? Therefore, I see it as a fulfillment of our God-given nature that we are innovative and can come up with scientific solutions to human problems. 

I became a Christian at 23, just after my mum died. At the time of her death, I was still struggling with suicidal depression. No one has been able to explain why I developed a propensity towards depression, but the more I learn about childhood trauma, the more I see the direct correlation between the death of my brother at age 4 (my first childhood memory) and suicidal depression. I am extremely grateful to the world of psychotherapy and childhood development for shedding so much light on the reasons why losing my brother, at such a formative age, would have had such a negative impact upon my development; coupled with a family of origin that were not equipped to help me heal; parents who were dealing with their own grief and their poor decisions - compounding the disruption of my own emotional, psychological and relational development. 

God made us to be human, raised by humans and to live in a world full of other humans. None of which are perfect.

Pain is a part of life. Pain is painful. If pain cannot find a healthy outlet, it will fester and grow.

Over the years, I have received prayer at many church services, of all denominations. I have attended healing retreats; I was a resident at Mercy Ministries UK; I saw an excellent therapist on a bi-weekly basis. I would journal, make sure I got enough sleep, eat a balanced diet, belong to a Christian community, serve the marginalised of society, tithe, have quiet times, read books, fast and pray, listen to podcasts, spend time in nature, practised Sabbath rest… whatever, you name it, I did it! 

And I have no regrets. I am convinced that all of these, and some in great measure,  contributed to my maturity and healing. But, despite the fact that I had stopped trying to take my own life, the default track in my brain would frequently take me down the path of suicidal ideation; even when I battled and fought against it with all my might.. 

…eventually, my husband suggested that I call the GP.

I was reluctant, but she was lovely and prescribed me some meds. I was skeptical about taking antidepressants, convinced that they wouldn’t work and that I would have some terrible side-effects (which can be true for some medications). But, within the 3-10 day mark, I began to feel better.

After a month I began to think, ‘Is this how other people feel? Normal? Is this what I have been missing out on for all of these years? Can this too, be freedom?’ It was, and is a miracle. 

I have no shame about being on medication. I know that I know, that I know, that I continue to give my all to be free from depression and part of that freedom is having the freedom to take  medication that helps  alleviate the pain of depression. The medication has given me margin - instead of constantly surviving the depression, I can now see my therapist to talk about the root issues of my depression, so that I can experience even more healing. One day, I may not need meds anymore, but I am also OK with needing to be on them for the rest of my life….

I am now free to live my life to the fullest, just like Jesus promised.