The Encourager

Let me tell you more of what I call my personal “calling” from God which is why I started with a newsletter called THE ENCOURAGER; A newsletter for and by Christians struggling with mental health. It eventually spread further.

Way back in the 1980’s I felt that God was ”calling” me to some sort of Christian missionary work but not knowing what type of work it was, where I was to go or how to pay for it with little money etc. But I still plodded along, stumbling and searching for HIS answer. I went to missionary meetings, went forward at “altar calls” to say publicly before God and my friends that I was willing to go to wherever and whoever God called me to. Well within all of this time period my own mental illness that had always been there was getting steadily worse. I would go in and out of psychiatric wards and hospitals. At the time I really began to doubt and wonder just what was God leading me to? When would I gain enough strength and self confidence to be about to go overseas as a missionary? How would I finance bible college training or airfare? How would I tell my parents and family who I felt at the time, understandably would not understand or agree?  Well the answer took years but eventually it came through. One day I was reading in the bible from Isaiah and in particular the first few verses;

”Comfort, comfort my people,” says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem” Isaiah 40:1 -2

Now I was really confused! Was I to go to Jerusalem? I knew nothing about Judaism! How could I seriously think God wanted me to go to Israel? Yet that was what was in the verse that God had just given me. With time, prayer and common sense came my answer.

God was calling me to minister to his people; Christians and not so much Jews. How? By comforting them with a message of encouragement because of their mental illness. Now that made more sense! The answers didn’t all come clearly at once, except that I had to comfort God’s people. I searched in various areas though; sometimes comforting grieving people at appropriate times as well as for quite a while cards and letters of individual encouragement were posted out up to 15 a week.

There were lots of things that led to my final realization. My own struggles in finding healthy Christian teaching on mental illness in churches and in Christian bookshops. If there was anything at all it sometimes revolved around mental illness being caused by evil spirits.

One person who did encourage me was my Baptist pastor of the time, Rev. Joe Westlake. He showed me Christ my Hope in a dark place and inspired me to write the book of the same name, ( which sold all 50 copys in three weeks). Joe, little did he know also gave me the title for the newsletter and this website. Then it came to a head when in early 2002 I published the first copy of the newsletter; The Encourager from a second hand typewriter. The first issue was delivered to 11 struggling friends. So it was born!

Well it grew with advertising in Christian periodicals and an article in The Salvatian Army magazine;THE WAR CRY 8th June 2002. After that requests came daily and it went for a while on the W.A. Baptist Care website. Also the self publishing in print form of the two books I wrote and now available on this website called Hope in a dark place. and Why suicide Lord? All that from seemingly so little. Lets go on and give God the glory.

A miracle at 3 am

May Lemke was 52 years old when the phone call came. ‘We have a 6 month abandoned baby. He’s mentally retarded and without eyes, has cerebral palsy and is totally unresponsive to sight and touch. He’ll die soon, but will you take him while he lives?”

May’s response was quick and firm. “If I take him he won’t die. I’ll take him.”

She bathed him, cuddled him for hours, talked to him and sang to him; but there was no movement, no response.

May prayed. She wept. She asked God for a miracle. Everyone tried to discourage her but May knew that one day Leslie would break out of prison. Finally at sixteen, Leslie stood with the help of a fence they had built for him. Once May noticed his finger plucking a string. Was it a clue? Music!

From then on, the house was full of music. May and her husband bought an old piano and put it in his room. She pressed his fingers against the keys to show they could make sounds. Leslie remained totally unresponsive.

The miracle happened in the winter of 1971. At 3am the music began to play. May and her husband found Leslie seated at the piano playing a Tchaikovsky piece perfectly. May fell to her knees and thanked God.

It took 19 years of love, patience, faith and courage to tap into the hidden potential in Leslie. In each of our lives there is hidden potential. It takes this same enviroment of love, patience and perseverance to bring out the best in each other. Many of us in our wedding vows spoke the words, “I promise to love you, to cherish you…” One of the meanings of this word cherish is to ‘warm with body heat’ - just like a mother hen sitting on her eggs before they break out of their shell.  In this enviroment of warmth, acceptance and love we’re free to grow, to break out, to try new things.

Look for the hidden potential in your partner, your child, your friend. Give them heaps of encouragement, hugs, love and warmth and watch them grow.    By Brian Andrew

A bicycle riding answer to prayer. Colourful - Dave Longworth

One day in what I think was early 2002, very foolishly I went riding at night without lights to an unfamiliar area. The result: I ended up with a panic attack, cold and lost with no easy way of getting home. So I sat outside a shop until they closed and took the chair I was sitting on inside. In my fear and despair I started to cry. I didn’t know what to do but after trying to ring my earthly father from a public phone to no avail I spoke to my heavenly father in prayer. I asked God for a miracle and he gave me one. As I finished praying a policeman walked around the corner and he asked me how I was. I said I’m having a panic attack, through tears running down my face.  He questioned what I meant to which I said I’m mentally ill and I’m sick now. He promised to come back in five minutes as he had a job up the street. He did come back soon with another policeman and a police van and they drove me home in the back of it with my bike. I couldn’t do anything but Praise God and thank these two “angels”. As I got out of the back of the paddy wagon I wondered what the neighbours thought but didn’t really care. I am reminded of the verse…”Don’t forget to show hospitality to strangers for some who have done this have entertained angels without realising it” Hebrews 13:2. 

God, sometimes I feel funny in the head….Now is one of those times.. But I’m not laughing… It’s not a laughing type of funny… I feel like…. Well more like crying… I’m depressed, confused and all muddled up inside…. I’m glad you care and understand me even better than I know myself.  You know why I feel like this. Thank you for not laughing Lord. I love you and I thank you that one day………….One day I will look back at this day and these feelings and see your plans and praise you…….I praise you now; even now when I don’t understand…Thanks Lord…Thanks Lord, Amen   Written Pre-August 2002……..Authors note: Colourful - Dave Longworth and David Longworth are one and the same person. I legally changed my first name by deed poll in March 2006 as it suits me far better.

Please…. Be patient with me. Remember I am the helpless victim of an organic brain disease that is totally beyond my control.

Talk to me….Even though I cannot always answer you, I can hear your voice and sometimes I comprehend your words.

Be kind to me…..For each day of my life is a long and desperate struggle. Your kindness may be the most special, important event of my day.

Consider my feelings…..For they are still very much alive within me.

Treat me with dignity and respect….As I would have gladly treated you if you had been the victim lying in this bed.

Remember my past…….For I was once a healthy, vibrant person full of life, love and laughter.

Remember my present..….. I am still a devoted spouse, parent and grandparent who misses my family very much and thinks often of them.

Remember my future…..Though it may seem bleak to you I am always filled with the hope of tomorrow.

Pray for me…… For I am a person who lingers in the mists that linger between time and eternity. Your prayers may do more for me than any other outreach of compassion you could do to me.

Love me…..And the gift of love you give will be a blessing from God that will fill both our lives with light forever. Patricia Parker Ireland

This first apeared in the August 2002 newsletter and was the testimony then, of Mrs Margaret Pye at that time. It was first read out in church then published in print form in The Encourager.

There is a hymn that goes “To God be the glory, Great things he has done” and for me this is a very appropriate song, because of the ordeal I’ve recently been through and I thank God for his unconditional love, his faithfulness and mercy. He has said that he will never leave us or forsake us and even when we don’t feel that he is with us, the fact remains that he is.

After coping with severe daily headaches, digestive problems and food allergies ( I have a love-hate relationship with food), for many years, I went slowly downhill and by October the doctor recommended that I be admitted  to a - wait for it - a psychiatric ward. Shock and horror was my reaction. What would people think? I’d been a Christian for so many years, surely my faith would see me though. But as Ron, my husband, Frank my Pastor and my doctor explained to me, that, just as someone can have a broken leg, that is visible, so you can be sick where there is no visible proof. So, it is not a lack of faith or willpower, but a lack of chemicals, or a hormone imbalance.

I hope that my “going public”, so to speak, will help change people’s attitudes about those of us who “breakdown” or fall into ”deep depression”. It happens to people in all walks of life and even Paul and some of the great prophets in the old testament, fell into depression.

Believe me it is a ghastly experience where you are down a big black pit with no hope of getting out, just utter despair. When you do see a little bit of light, you find that it is Mt Everest and it is absolutely unsurmountable. But God answered your prayers and others, which I deeply appreciate. It is very humbling, having people praying for you. When I was getting better, I told the nurses that my bed was special, as it had a ring of prayer around it and guardian angels above it.

As well as all the prayers of my family and friends, He used many people to bring about my recovery. The nurses, who were lovely and encouraging. He used medication and when I was finally able to read, parts of books that were given to me by the nurses, were helpful. One time it was hard advice from a friend, over the phone and I would think; “Well, I could have done without that, just now”. But I needed to hear it. I needed, with the Lord’s help to change. (Hadn’t I been asking him to change me, to become more like him.) Change the negative belief patterns and self - criticism etc that had been building up in my mind since childhood. They had to go. I thought that I had done this and taken it to the foot of the Cross to Jesus, & left it there, but probably because of poor health, it had reared it’s head again and I felt pretty useless, helpless and hopeless.

Other things that helped in my recovery were cards, flowers and other expressions of love verbal and otherwise. I think the psychiatrist must have helped, but I’m not sure how, because our little chats seemed to centre around medication, sleep patterns and whether I’d had a successful trip to the toilet. Hospital sure helps you to sort out your priorities. The highlight of the day was when you had a successful trip.

During the first few weeks in hospital, I was so far down that I couldn’t pray, let alone read the Bible. My mind was so depressed, anxious & tortured that I would just mutter frantically ” help Lord, help” or I’d murmur Jesus’ name over and over. At this stage Frank my pastor and Merle Mabury helped me stabilise some of my thinking on spiritual issues & I sincerly thank them & also Praise the Lord for my wonderful husband Ron, (who never let on what sort of hell he was going through) & my daughters Debbie and Janet who continued to love and encourage me.

As the days went by, I had two strong images in my mind. One of Jesus’ strong right hand reaching down and holding my weak & trembling one. The other was also God’s hand & I was in the hollow of his hand & as a dear friend, battling cancer for many years, said to me “What better place is there to be.”

Various scriptures also helped. At first it was David’s psalms, pleading with God to help him & save him. Ps.16 “Save me O God  because I have come to you for refuge”, PS 28 “I plead with you to help me Lord, for you are my rock and safety. If you refuse to answer me, I might as well give up and die. Oh listen to my cry”.   Gradually I forced myself to read the praise psalms and then Ps 51 “Create in me a clean heart Oh God, filled with good thoughts and desires.” Romans 12: 2 took on a new urgency “I want to be transformed by the renewing of my mind”. I was also re-learning all about patience and perseverance.

Gradually I did get out of that dark pit of despair, even though I thought I never would. I thought that I would become a permanent resident as getting back to normal didn’t seem much of an incentive to getting better. But I made it home for Christmas Dinner without bad consequences for the first time in about 15 years, making sure that I didn’t touch mince pies, chrissy cake, pudding, ice cream or chocolates. Sometimes I even feel hungry after a meal & occaisonally feel comfortable after a meal. The severe headaches still plague me but I’m learning to control them to a degree.

I was “inside”, as we put it, for over 7 weeks & when I was finally discharged, I would answer the phone saying,”Hello it’s Margaret - Praise the Lord I’m home” - I guess some people would think it was a pretty weird way to answer the phone.

I knew I would make it, when one day in hospital I woke &  straight away started singing “It’s a lovely day and I thank God for the weather.” When I’d finished that song I continued with “Joy, Joy, there’s joy within my heart”, then I stopped and thought ”Wow”, there’s been a lump of lead in my throat for weeks. I really made my psychiatrists day when I started singing to her. I don’t suppose she has too many patients who sing to her.

So I came home, so happy, feeling that I’d been given a chance & praising the Lord for the whole experience because once again I had proved the Lord’s faithfulness as I was bursting with love and joy for the Lord, his people, my family and friends. I hugged & kissed anybody in sight. Ron thought all his Christmases had come at once. I now know that I am much loved, loveable and loving.

I’ll finish off with a verse from Ps 40:”I waited patiently for the Lord; He turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and the mire; he set my feet upon a rock & gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord.    HALLELUJAH!    WHAT A SAVIOUR!

This story was based on actual events and the author has recovered well since he wrote it some years before publishing it. Try and see the positive side of it, I am alive to write this………

Today I had a sleep. I suppose I’m still recovering from the overdose I took on Tuesday night. Today is Saturday and I feel like I should be working. I could be earning money but at least, at least, I’m alive. Surely that’s enough. Anyway back to my story……..I had a dream of which I’ve just woken up from. The dream was hard to understand at first, but when I woke from it I realized what it was and what it’s meaning was. I was in the future and I was meeting people whose lives I had touched and they were all much older than now. They had gone on and done wonderful things. And I realized I had touched their lives. I realized that had they not been encouraged by me they just may not have done those good things. And it was my encouragement,the ability to encourage which I believe came from God and not of human means which made all the difference in different ones lives. One was a youth leader, still only young in real life but he had gone on and was a youth director in a large church, his chosen vocation in life. For him I hardly remembered what I had said to him but it had touched him. All I had done was given $2, like the widows mite in the story Jesus had given all those years ago. It was more than I could afford but God had blessed it, along with some words to build him up in his work and now this man was doing great things for God!

Then there was the couple I grew up with in youth group. In real life they had married years ago and had young children. I actually saw them out as a family the night I attempted suicide. That night I was too caught up in my pain, but in the dream they were all much older now and what were in the present young children, now were all adults. That was not just one person but a whole family whose lives were different because of just one life, me who had encouraged the parents to remain together. In the dream were many lives too many to name. I even saw my dog; he had a chance to live because I took in an uloved but very loveable animal. He had touched others with his smile and his charm….

But, if I had died that night my dog would have been put to sleep, the young man I had met at church, the friends from youth group and the countless other lives would not have gone on.

Oh, but I am alive, I did not die. I have been given another chance. But what if the ambulance wasn’t called, my friend hadn’t found me? What if people thought he’s no good, he will never achieve anything, let him die. All the questions? All the what if’s?

Next time you see an addict in the gutter, a dirty aboriginal, an unwanted pet or YES YOU, all clean and respectable and feel like giving up, please don’t because you don’t know the power of just one life…..

This is in fond memory of the life of a dear friend Lisa Buddrige [nee Rotherham] who passed peacefully into the presence of her Lord Jesus Christ on the 29th March 2006. Many family and friends packed the chapel at Pinnaroo Valley Memorial Park W.A. to pay their last respects in this life to a fine Christian woman who “fought the good fight, ran the race and is now out of all her suffering.” Not least of all was her ever - loving, ever-committed and faithful husband David who I have known for some years. From a personal note, I remember the last time I saw her alive and said goodbye, hoping to catch up again soon. Despite her illness she wanted to treat me to a home made lunch which I remember was extra special as she had made it according to my food allergy specifications. Lisa struggled with panic attacks, a very real and debilitating disease. Some time before she died she wrote an article for THE ENCOURAGER called A prisoner of panic and I include this here. It first appeared in it’s printed newsletter in September 2002. Lisa Buddrige. A life well lived. Colourful - Dave Longworth

“Every day is a day of terror, just fighting for the chance to make things better.Terror because I face each day with panic and anxiety just to do the simple things that most take for granted. With the thought of leaving the house, answering the door or phone being so threatening for me. A walk to the letterbox often takes me most of the afternoon because I live in the fear that, just going outside my front door something bad will happen to me, or that someone will see me.

I am lucky that I have a very supportive husband and a loving mother and father-in-law. David (my husband) looks after me and when he is not there, he takes me to his in laws and they look after me. I leave the house only to go to my in-laws and to go out to appointments and occasionally to the shops.

A panic attack for me begins with a tightening of the chest, then shaking, sweating, hyperventilating and then come the feelings of suffocation and death. I spend a lot of time fearing having panic attacks because they are debilitating. I have an average of 7 panic attacks a day- and sometimes as many as 25. Each attack lasts 2-5 minutes, but feels like it lasts half an hour or more. I know many people who do not believe that depression and anxiety are ‘real illnesses’, but I would like to challenge any person on this because I can’t honestly believe that anyone would want to put themselves through this type of torture every day just for the sake of it. I tell you, there is nothing I would like to do more than to go to the shops or to the cinema without having these panic attacks.

Living with this is like living in a prison. I am a prisoner in my own home, missing out as life passes me by. I am a prisoner of panic. I am told that it is possible to overcome panic disorder, but it takes time. Medication helps a little but in the end it is a long process to overcome it.” Lisa Nichole Buddrige. 25th November 1975 - 29th March 2006 Sadly missed by many…….looking forward to meeting again. Lisa……now you are free.

At Lisa’s memorial service we read from some of her favourite bible verses and some of her favourite music which she listened to as she went to sleep at night. Bible verses ; Psalm 139: 1-18 and Psalm 116: 12-19

Lisa’s entry music was Live Forever  by Michael.W. Smith. As the song One of these days  sung by group Far from Home was played we were given the chance to say our last respects or leave a flower on the casket. It was one of Lisa’s favourite songs. Finally we heard Lisa’s victory song Stay  by Luke Munns, after her committal to the Lord.

Further help for people with panic attacks: There is a book called ”Living with IT.  A survivors guide to panic attacks, by Bev Aisbett. Published by Angus and Robertson.  www.harpercollins.com.au It’s not a Christian book but it’s a quick, easy read for the aproximate 5% of the population who struggle with this disease at some point. The author has had first hand experience and it’s full of cartoons as well.