I went back into my drafts section and found this post that I started over two years ago. I decided to post it because I often need reminding that Prayer and Praise are needed to battle depression.

No Princess Dance Camp?

Wow! It's been a month and a half since I've been inspired enough to write something new! I made myself a promise when I stopped freelancing that I wouldn't write just to write. I would only write something if I felt truly inspired, not just a bunch of jiberish down on paper (or in this case a screen).

My life has been great! Things have been going along swimmingly. We've started getting into a good groove at home; we've had a good schedule with the kids and work has been going well. My ministry life has been going pretty well, too. I've gotten involved with the prayer ministry after some huge revelations about my own prayer life and I have felt very used of God in the band.

No huge monsters in my way! Nothing more than the everyday trials!

But that was just it. The everyday trials were the very opening that Satan needed to get to me. I am a pretty strong person. I can stick it out through some pretty big trials. I can encourage others on a regular basis and stay positive through most things. Its the little things that tend to get to me. And I don't mean just 'get to me'. I mean depressed, down in the muck, make me miserable get-to-me. That is where I have been for the last two days.

I have felt it coming on for about a week. I would get these anxious feelings in my stomach and couldn't explain it. One morning they were so strong I thought I would be sick. Then, two days ago, it hit my like a ton of bricks. My daughter is supposed to attend a very special Princess Dance Camp that we have been anticipating for quite some time. We suddenly weren't sure if we could afford it. I was sick to my stomach again, but this time it was much worse. I knew what I was anxious about. All day long I thought about my circumstances, and the more I thought, the worse I felt. By the end of the day, I was miserable. I was in tears (very unlike me) and I didn't want to talk to anyone. Do you think I turned my questions and anxiety toward the one who could handle all of my problems? No. I just went to bed upset.

The next day I didn't wake up feeling a whole lot better. I decided that I needed to fast and pray so that God would help me to feel better about my circumstances. I didn't really feel God's presence with me, but I don't put too much stock in emotions anyway. I just hoped that the Holy Spirit would do the groaning that my spirit was too tired to do.

As the day went on, I didn't get any better. My attitude worsened. Things would happen and I became unbearable (Sorry Donna). I would pray in my mind every time my stomach would growl with hunger, but it was an angry "PLEASE GOD, WON'T YOU DO SOMETHING?" It was awful, not to mention that my blood sugar was getting so low I could hardly keep my eyes open. I was sick of being around me - what a miserable shambles!

Then I remembered reading My Utmost For His Highest that morning, and something it said came back to me: "When you give of yourself physically, you become exhausted. When you give of yourself spiritually, you get more strength." I realized that I was living in the flesh and seeing this as a physical battle, instead of battling this spiritually. So, I ate something!

A good friend reminded me that I needed to go back and remember that Satan is trying to destroy the most vital means of communication that I have...my prayer life! He isn't concerned about scaring me with demons or tripping me with the 'usual' temptations. He is trying to push me over the edge by separating me from my God. The anxiety I was feeling wasn't over my own circumstances, it was because I felt alone.

My daughter came to me the day I went home and had my 'episode' and saw that I was crying. She grabbed both of my hands and said, "Mommy, it's okay. God is with you. You are not alone. You don't have to worry." Then she prayed for me that God and His angels would protect me. Wow! A child could see it and I couldn't.

This morning I didn't spring out of bed, feeling exuberant and ready to start the day. My back ached from a fitful sleep and trying to keep my son's paci in his mouth (who, by the way, ends up in our bed around 4 a.m. every other night). My life wasn't 'all fixed' like I would have hoped. But, as I started my quiet time, I began to pray in my journal and the more I prayed, the more energetic I got. I started praising God for who He is and my heart became lighter. As I began to exclaim His glory my hand began to move so fast with my prayers it began to shake. I didn't even notice that it was already 80 degrees or that the neighbor couldn't get his car to start just about a hundred feet from where I sat. All I noticed was that I had found the remedy for my aching heart. I had found the very thing that I had needed two days ago. I needed to be reminded of who I am and that I matter to Him. The world around me can crumble, but He will still be holding me in the palm of His hand.

How amazing is that 'tiny' revelation? And to think it was all over

This is where the blog ends. I don't know what I was going to write next, but I do know that God is faithful. He did provide for my daughter to go to Princess Dance Camp, and she LOVED it!