Tuesday, June 12, 2018

G R O W T H | S P I R I T U A L I T Y

I was baptized into the Christian faith when I was 17 years old. I had been told that God was THE BEING, the Father, in charge of creating all good things (1 Timothy 4:4 NIV), I knew that Jesus was the Son that connected us to His Father through His death (1 Timothy 2 5-6 NIV), but I had never been informed of who the Spirit was.
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I was 35 and had just been dragged through the deepest depths of depression. Paranoia had ripped my mind to shreds. I believed that EVERYONE around was gossiping behind my back and I thought devices were listening to my conversations. It was bad. Anxiety frequently crept through my body causing it to shake and jerk uncontrollably. I couldn’t sleep and I’d spend nights contemplating running a razor blade across my arm. I eventually had enough.

I attempted suicide by swallowing handfuls of my medication, alone in my home in the late summer. I was admitted three separate times over the period of two weeks to mental health hospitals, each stay longer than the one before. My life was filled with chaos and uncertainty. My relationship with God, as far as I was concerned, was over. He had turned His back and walked.

Eventually, after I was prescribed and began taking medication that helped lead me out of the chasm of depression I had fallen into, I started to realize that most of the people surrounding me during my darkest time (my psychiatrist, most of my doctors and nurses I worked with, my wife, the rest of my family) all had something in common. The Spirit, I’ve learned, is “the Helper Comforter, Advocate, Intercessor—Counselor, Strengthener, Standby,” (John 14:26 AMP)... that’s exactly what all of those people were to me. They helped me, comforted me, brought me peace, helped strengthen me. Through the Spirit that flowed through them, I benefited.

“There was a period of time where I believed God had abandoned me. I was lost. When my brain began functioning properly, I started to ask why everything happened, why I was given this curse. Then, one day, it clicked... Just kidding. It never clicked. I still haven’t figured out why I was destined to struggle the rest of my life. But I did realize something - just because you can’t see, hear, or feel God doesn’t mean He isn’t working in your life. My wife stood by me through the ugliest time of our marriage. My psychiatrist, who is a believer (he’ll never tell you that unless you get to know him), worked his ass off trying to find a combination of medications that worked for me... and he did it! Our families helped watch the kids for Abby and they visited me in the hospital. Friends visited me while I was hospitalized and followed up with me when I got out. The countless doctors, nurses, and therapists that helped me get well had the Spirit flowing through them. Everyone in my life during that time, I finally see, was part of God’s plan to treat me and place me on the road to recovery. As for me, I now understand that God not only surrounds every part of me, He lives inside of me. I can’t fail because He won’t fail me.” 

Brandon Mullins 
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4 comments:

  1. I am SO happy you are in a better place ❤️.

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  2. Thank you, Nicki. Me too ☺️👍

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  3. Do you ever think that maybe God allows you this struggle so you can be a guiding voice for all those with a struggle like yours? I just read all of your posts in the past 20 min and you have given me so much hope for my marriage ( my hubby is also bipolar) I have thought for years that I was all alone and to know others understand is such a blessing. I cannot thank you enough for being brave enough to share your life do openly. I look forward to hearing more about your journey. May God continue to bless you. ❤️

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    1. Yes, I have thought that. You’re very welcome. I hope you and your husband are doing good 👍☺️

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