Masks

The many masks I wear.

In 2016 my daughter died. I was in the hospital by her side when she did. In fact, the Doctor told me, “At this point she is gone, we need to stop.” I agreed and held my baby till her spirit was gone. Never have I had pain like that. It is impossible to relate the impact of this day on my life. If I wrote of it every day for the rest of my life it would be but an inkling of what I felt. This is the day I put on my first mask.

Depression crept in like a friend and told me, “Here put on this mask for just a little while, your pain will go away and then you can take it off. Then it didn’t and I didn’t in fact I got more. The spiral that would lead to my literal death on an operating table was under way.

Soon one mask was not enough, shame, anger, frustration, rage, and confusion all offered me their masks and, I took them and wore them, and, in the end, I thought they were me. Then I realized I needed a mask for every occasion.

I had been a bit of a fitness junky before that day. I had lost 60 pounds and was strong, cut, and all my labs at that point were flawless. In order to maintain my weight at that point I was taking in 4000 calories a day. I did 1500 calorie 3–4-hour workouts that gave me a laser focus. My prophetic seer gift was off the charts at times. I traveled through time, space, and sat in the presence of the Lord. Depression told me I was working too hard and needed a break, for, “Just a little while.” So, I agreed and took that break.

Depression is only one of a mirid of opportunistic spirits, it is patiently waiting for you to try it on for just a moment, it feels stiff and uncomfortable, but as you wear it longer it’s like leather. That unique smell and how comfortable it is after it is broken in. The sad fact is it is not alone. It has friends and they only add to the new armor you wear after you take off the armor of God.

Like a quick-change artist on stage, I could switch my masks in record time. I looked happy, strong, joyous even, I’m fine thanks for asking. I worked, I played and on the outside my masks showed I was living a good life. This was a lie; I was dead already inside and my physical death was on the horizon.

Time goes by and I gain back all 60 pounds and 10 more. My blood pressure is dangerously high, my labs read like I’m suicidal. My heart starts to fail, both physically and in the spirit. My relationship with God that I enjoyed since I was three is nonexistent, I’m in deep and the masks are not enough to hide my pain anymore.

Now my marriage is failing, my kids are joining me in depression and my life is beginning to spiral out of control. I am heading headlong into disaster.

I end up hospitalized and in the process of trying to get healed I die for 16 minutes on an operating table. That story is on this site under Ezikiel 36:26 so I won’t relive it at this point. But by every sense of the word my masks literally led to my death. In that death I was saved. God exists in the paradox.

Jesus asks me if I could give him my masks, I told Him no at first but as I started to heal, I gave Him a few. “Here hold this,” I say, as I get a gym membership, my family starts to go with me. Happiness creeps into my house, an old friend I hadn’t seen in years. Next my worship account on pandora is opened for the first time in 7 years. Then I start to write. If I keep this up, I will run out of masks. But then that’s the point.

I don’t know who out there needs to hear this but, You Matter, He, loves you and if you can choose to start on one thing that will make you better just one. This will start a cascade that will lead you into His arms. Join me in recovery, join me in taking up our armor and rejoining the fight. Now not only are we bold, but we can also be fearless.