“This. ALL of this! This. Is. Me. My God, for the past 25 years, this has been me!”
This was the message I received after one reader started reading an early edition of my book, “Hope Prevails: Insights From a Doctor’s Personal Journey Through Depression.”
Another said, “You spoke straight to my heart and soul, yet it was like you were sitting right here beside me.”
As more individuals read the message that God had given me to share from my heart, the more I realized that what we all want, what we all need is to know we aren’t alone; that someone understands. [read more]
I looked into her eyes and she stared back at me, yet I hardly recognized her. When had that happened? The years had taken their toll. Her skin was no longer as smooth, and creases were worn deep at the corners of her eyes and lips. She no longer had that youthful glow, but it was okay because she looked back at me with eyes of knowing and wisdom that came only through experience. Her face told the real story: that “after” only comes when there is a “before.” [more]
As a natural encourager, it’s always my desire to instill hope in the hearts of those who are hurting. Yet sometimes this is harder to do than others. During a recent prolonged bout of illness I found that some seemed to instinctively know how to help, while others did not. Some words and deeds helped, others actually hurt.
As I thought about the ministry of Jesus, it didn’t take long for me to realize that Jesus got dirty in doing good. In order to heal, He frequently got His hands dirty – both figuratively and literally. He spit in the dirt and made mud to heal a blind man’s eyes. [more]
The call came in to my office on a Monday morning. Her mother, cancelling her appointment. She wouldn’t be coming in for her evaluation for diagnosis and treatment plan…she had attempted suicide over the weekend and was still in the hospital.
We hadn’t met yet, but I wish we had. There was so much I would have told her. My heart breaks for her and the 5400 teenagers who attempt suicide EVERY DAY in the United States. I’m so glad she wasn’t one in 25 who succeeded in her attempt to end her life. Most people who consider suicide don’t want to die—they just want the pain to end. I understand. I wish I could tell her that and so much more. We could talk for hours, days even, but here is just a snippet of what I would say to the patient I didn’t get to meet. [more]
One sick day spilled into two. Two days lapsed into three days. Three days bled into a full week. Before I knew it, a week stretched into three weeks. How did we get here?
On that first day, I felt so miserable, I left my office early and didn’t much care that I had to cancel appointments, meets, and commitments. I figured a little extra R & R and I’d be up and around the next day, ready to meet the world with my usual gusto. [more]