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Archive for the ‘Mental illness’ Category

~ Written by Viki Rife

Nine little girls sat in a circle, listening intently as their teacher explained the project. They were to make a poster showing their favorite animal. In teams of three they were to choose an animal, cut out pictures, and prepare their research. They would present their project to the group and their teacher would ask them questions.

After designating the teams, the teacher sat back to watch. One team couldn’t agree on an animal. One team found an animal they all liked, but everyone had a different idea of what pictures to use and where to put them on the poster. One team got upset with another one because someone had cut out an animal they wanted to use.

When the hour was up, the teacher called them back together. The girls were ready and eager to answer her questions.

The teacher began to ask questions:

What does this situation teach us about working together in real life?

What was it like to work with the other people on your team?

How did you help the team be effective?

Who was the most helpful person on your team?

What conflicts did you have? How did you handle them?

What could you do differently next time to handle conflicts better?

You see, the teacher’s goal wasn’t to teach them about animals. It was to teach them to work as a team, a much more essential life skill. Sometimes I wonder if God is doing the same thing with us. He wants us to be a united body, working together toward carrying out His mission. Throughout Scripture, it seems that the way we work together is often more important than the end product.

Let’s seek to approach whatever we do in Christ’s body with as much concern about how we get to the goal as we have about getting there.

(Team-building exercises such as this are a part of the curriculum for SMM (Sisters Mentoring with a Mission). For more information on how SMM helps disciple girls, click here

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~ Written by Pat Ashcraft

Barbara was the youngest of four children. Born in the early 1920’s, she lived through the depression. When she was seven, her mother died and she was raised by her dad and grandmother. She later met and married Bob Mason; together they had five children in six years. Their first child died at childbirth.

Barbara was very intelligent, funny, and outgoing. Everywhere she went, she was the life of the party. She was a good mother, wife, friend and neighbor. At the age of 33, after several years of problems, Barbara was hospitalized for the first time for bipolar disorder.

I know all this about Barbara because she was my mother. I am the youngest of her children.

My mother’s life and our family were greatly affected by her illness. In our house growing up, we never used the words “mental illness.” Our dad would just say, “your mom is sick, try to help out more.” We were all adults before we knew what her diagnosis was. We never discussed with anyone else that our mother was mentally ill.

My oldest sister took over running the household. My next sister took care of mom but also learned to cook at a young age. My brother coped by ignoring everything and keeping busy outside the home. I was the “baby” and was cared for and protected by the older kids. I probably had the most normal childhood, as I was allowed to be a child and not take on adult duties.

All of us had various issues that affected our schooling. It wasn’t until 12th grade that anyone asked me if there were problems at home. Even then, I didn’t tell the principal that life was a total upheaval at times because of my mother. At that point, I was soon going to graduate and leave home, so it seemed like a moot point.

When I was 16 years old, my mother was having a very bad manic episode. She hadn’t slept or eaten or stopped talking for about five days. She was totally confused. She would pick fights over the smallest things. We were all exhausted.

My dad decided to put her in the car and drive her to the hospital. She knew that meant another stay in the psychiatric ward and didn’t want to go. I was helping my dad get her shoes and socks on and helping with her coat. She was fighting us every step of the way. I was thoroughly disgusted with my mom. I had had enough of her and all we had to live with. I was tired and angry that I didn’t have a “normal” mom. I said to my dad, “How can you stand this?” He stopped what he was doing, looked at me and said, “I don’t ‘stand’ anything. I love your mother. And when you love someone, you take care of them. Don’t you ever say anything like that about your mother again.” Wow, what a lesson in love.

When my mother was at her worst, her least attractive and most difficult to deal with, my dad chose to love her. What a picture of God’s love for me! When I was at my worst, ugly from sin and full of pride, God chose to love me. He sent His only Son to save me. That’s unconditional love at its best!  

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