I’m an Overcomer!

Overcome: to get the better of in a struggle or conflict; conquer; defeat

   Let’s be honest for a moment. We have all overcome things, are struggling to overcome things or are trying to figure out if we have enough strength to overcome things. It’s part of the human condition. Sometimes it just seems so much easier to let our struggles pull us under. 

   If I’m being totally transparent with you, I will say I’ve been in the pull-me-under-and-let-me-drown mode far too often. I never talk about this because people think I’m either comparing my struggles to someone else’s, change the subject or don’t care anyway. But I have a selfie on my phone that God put on my heart and wanted me to put this out there. I in no way seek pity or sympathy. But I believe there are others out there who suffer in silence, thinking they have no other choice. I’m here to tell you differently!

   23 years ago, I was diagnosed with clinical depression and put into the category of “major depressive disorder”. 15 years ago, I had the added diagnosis of an anxiety/panic disorder. I’ve been on and off medication as we’ve had doctors move, didn’t have insurance, and now can’t afford the copay for the yearly checkup. Most of the time, I just pretend like I’m fine. Eventually my brain starts to believe it and I’m ok for a period of time. 

   About 6 years ago, Mandisa had a song called “Overcomer” that really showed me I could overcome any obstacle if I just held on. The chorus says:

“You're an overcomer

Stay in the fight 'til the final round

You're not going under

'Cause God is holding you right now

You might be down for a moment

Feeling like it's hopeless

That's when he reminds you

That you're an overcomer

You're an overcomer”

   I’ve spent lots of time hiding in the background over the years. I would shy away from pictures because I knew my smile was pretty fake. But I’ve fought hard. Oh boy, have I ever fought hard! Last week, we went to see the sunset at the beach, which has become my refuge. I call it “my happy place” because I truly feel like I can be me and I can just feel carefree. (Much of the time I don’t have a phone signal, or at least so a strong enough one to do much. 

   While Drew sat on the sidewalk at the edge of the beach, I ran through the sand to stick my toes in the frigid waters of Lake Michigan. On the way back up, I took a selfie. That selfie popped up on my watch a couple days ago. When I saw it, God said, “Do you see that face? That’s the face of joy...the face of an overcomer!” You know what? He’s right! I have overcome so much! I still have a long road to go. But I know I have two choices. 1. I can let depression control who I am, how I act, and how I respond to people. Or 2. I can control depression and choose to not allow it to master me. I can choose to say, “Satan, you’re NOT going to zap my joy!” 

I choose #2! Reach out to me if you need someone who understands and will care! 

I'm Not Peter Pan

    The other day I had a student ask me, "Mrs. Wohlford, do you ever wish you could be a kid again?" I just chuckled and said I didn't think I would want to be then moved on through my day. But I've been thinking about it and realize I do have a firm answer to that question. God told me I was supposed to write a blog post about it. I'm no eloquent writer, but here I go...

    Do I ever wish I could be a kid again? NO! Now, I can't say my childhood was bad. I had three older brothers who loved to make my life miserable but would go to great lengths to protect me from anyone else hurting me. I had parents who were always available when I needed them and grandparents, aunts and uncles who always showed their love to me in many ways. I grew up in a safe home, got new clothes for every school year (and I even loved all the ruffly ones my grandma made for me). I participated in Girl Scouts (where I learned to pitch a tent, build a campfire, cook over said fire, etc) and church youth group. My parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles financially supported my summer missions trip to Brazil and my parents even took time off work to travel to Florida with my high school band/choir my senior year. I had a great childhood! But I'd never go back for anything!

   I started working a few months before I turned 16.  Two weeks before my 18th birthday, I left home to attend college a couple hours away. I didn't know at that time that I wouldn't move back into that house again. Three months before my 22nd birthday, I married my husband. So, since I've been 16, I've been working to provide for my own needs and then the needs of my husband and eventually my family. I've done more loads of laundry than I could ever count, made countless grocery lists, paid rent and utility bills, worked many hours at various jobs, nursed my husband and children through different illnesses and injuries, worked my way through college while raising teenagers so I could realize my dream of being a teacher, vacuumed way too many times to keep track of and washed enough dishes to feed an army for a week without reusing dishes. But I still wouldn't go back to being a child.

   {Editor's note: this paragraph does not apply to all children, but a large number of children} Kids today have so much pressure to perform. They're expected to be the best on the baseball, soccer or football field, behind their musical instrument, in the martial arts studio and in the classroom. They are nearly solving algebraic equations by fourth grade, are spelling words in third grade I didn't learn until at least fifth grade, and reading longer novels than I read in high school. They're inundated with information through social media, video games and cell phones (my thoughts on kids and social media/cell phones is a whole other post). They spend hours playing video games and minutes actually getting exercise or fresh air. Many don't even know how to find things to do outdoors and say they're bored. When I was a kid, my favorite toy was the outdoors. If there wasn't something to do, we made something up. All the playground equipment at recess was full? We went and made up a game. Kids today call my childhood boring. I call it blessed. I knew how to interact with people because all of my interactions with friends were face to face. We didn't have e-mail or cell phones. We couldn't be on the family's home phone long because there was no call waiting. We knew how to make friends and be friends. We knew how to respect everyone - teachers, neighbors, parents, bus drivers, cashiers, waitresses - everyone was treated with respect. No, I wouldn't want to be a child again today.

   So, I'll take my achy bones, my knees that make it hard to stand up when I kneel down to help a student, my back that screams every time I bend over, my feet that ache from standing too long. I'll take every wrinkle on my face and every gray strand of hair on my head. I've worked hard and lived to earn every one of them. The above will not be part of my answer to any student who ever asks me if I wish I could be a kid again. My answer will continue to be, "No, I don't want to be a kid again. If I was a kid, I wouldn't be able to be your teacher." However, I'd be glad to take a nap like kids can. I haven't had a nap in years. 🤣🤣