Posted on by She Who Rises

Suicide has nothing to do with strength

Dr. Antoinette “Bonnie” Candia-Bailey is no more. By all accounts, an excellent person and dedicated professional, she committed suicide following a series of demoralizing, bullying, and not so subtle attacks in her workplace at the hands of her boss. Attacks, punctuated by the absence of protection and support from her employer, that left her deeply depressed, anxious, and ultimately, officially terminated from her job.

It might blow you away that a person could end their life over anything regarding work. It might come across as weak or even unbelievable, but suicide has nothing to do with strength.

Dr. Antoinette “Bonnie” Candia-Bailey

Suicide isn’t about fortitude but instead despair and hopelessness in aggregate form. It’s feeling irreparably broken and alone and seeing no other way out. It’s being exhausted by the lack of safe places to rest and just be. It’s being desperate for an immediate end to a long and excruciating period of suffering.

In her thoughtful and deeply personal devotional, Not Alone: Reflections on Faith and Depression, Rev. Dr. Monica A. Coleman describes some of the hopeless thoughts that can cloud the minds of those of us with depressive conditions, thoughts like:

I’ll never feel better again,
I’m a burden to everyone around me, including those I love most,
I’m incapable of making a positive contribution to the world,
I’ve tried everything – every medication, therapist, insurance agency – and none of it has helped,
This pain is so intense that only death can alleviate it,
God must hate me to make me this sad, morose, numb and/or bad, and the usual thorn in my own side,
God must be disappointed in me for not having my act together

These are thoughts that I’ve often struggled with myself. For me, they fuel a panic that can grow into an urgent need for escape, by any means necessary. That urgent need for escape creates the focus necessary to make plans to die.

Planning is a telltale sign of a pending suicide attempt. Putting one’s affairs in order, whether it’s finding new homes for once treasured items or being intentional about saying “goodbye” to loved ones, displays loud and clear a person’s seriousness about ending their life.

We know that Dr. Candia-Bailey planned. She sent an email to her attacker/boss prohibiting him from talking to her family once the deed was done. She was suffering in deep emotional pain, but she was serious and resolute about her next steps. That isn’t weakness.

We may never know Dr. Candia-Bailey’s thoughts as she committed this final act. I don’t know what she believed in or how she lived her life. I can only wonder if she was looking forward to rest, peace in some place far from here, a place like heaven.

I’m not one of those people who get into debates about what is and isn’t a sin, or whether some are worse than others or who will or won’t make it into heaven. In general, I think those debates are a distraction from what really matters, which is relationship – the main thing Jesus died for us to have.

Any idea that God is angry with us, judges, or abandons us in these desperate moments just doesn’t match the Jesus I know. When it comes to something as world-changing as suicide, what I have experienced with Jesus when my thoughts have slid down this path wasn’t any of those things. It’s always been compassion.

Not surprise. Not disapproval. Not judgment. Just compassion and a gentle re-orientation away from my suffering, a feat that seemed impossible only a moment before, and a sense that there is more for me that lies beyond this pain, beyond this intense suffering. A sense that joy and purpose will return… eventually.

The compassion that I have found in my most bleak moments conveys a sense that God is pained by my suffering too. Monica put it this way,

“I believe that God is with us, feels with us, and is moved by our suffering – even when, especially when, we cannot feel God’s presence. I’m not sure the right word is “sin,” but perhaps all of this breaks God’s heart too.”

Dr. Candia-Bailey is gone. She won’t have the chance to witness what could have been beyond her torment, her excruciating pain. No-one will. It isn’t a crime, but it is a tragedy… for all of us. If nothing else, I hope she’s found peace and the rest she sought.

If you are struggling with thoughts of suicide, you don’t have to face them alone. Call or text 988 (or check out these resources) to get connected to confidential, non-judgmental support now. đź’ś

Posted on by She Who Rises

Beautifully Human

Here at the start of the year, I found myself teetering on the edge of a (yet another) depressive episode. In the last few days of 2023, I found joy in a quiet Christmas, a beautifully reimagined The Color Purple, and a simple NYE. But as the new year began, heavy rain and the threat of snow did whatever it does to my brain that shuts life down.

It set off the migraines, drowsiness, and fatigue that keeps me stuck in a dark room, huddled under the covers, barely coming out to eat or even bathe – much like a depressive episode. And with the addition of some unwelcome medical news and the ending of some important relationships, my personal cache of hope began to slip through my fingers.

This odyssey with my health followed me into the new year, along with a very real and recent job loss. Last year, my deeply analytical brain couldn’t muster the cognitive strength to do my job. I couldn’t even fake it. As 2024 approached, I tried not to think too much about how I would manage, much less overcome all of this, until I was firmly in the new year.

At this point, I am convinced that God has gotten me every job that I’ve ever had. In each scenario, there were too few options and resources to see it any differently. And through prayer, I had been reassured that the God that did that for me so many times before would do it again when the time came. So, again, I tried not to dwell on it… until the new year.

But when 2024 came, I felt overwhelmed that I didn’t have a single idea of how I would navigate any of this. To be honest, I’m still crawling my way out of those feelings. And you know what else? It’s frustrating as hell.

It’s frustrating to believe in a very real and personal God, yet still struggle with doubt and fear that makes me want to control everything. I used to believe that all I needed was to be reassured that God had it, had me, and all my worries would melt away. But more and more, I’m seeing that faith doesn’t exactly work that way all the time, or at least not mine.

I’m seeing that faith still takes work, no matter what reassuring words the Holy Spirit whispers into my heart in the quiet hours of the night. I’m learning that I may still have to hold on to the word even when I can’t see it happening for me, even when there’s no evidence that it ever will.

Sometimes, building this muscle of faith sucks. But I’m also seeing that it’s okay to acknowledge that it does sometimes suck.

So often, I want to push myself to shake it off or beat myself up when I find myself dwelling on the hard and uncertain stuff. I get angry. I get sad. I become unforgiving of self. But emotions are just signals to be investigated, right? And, make no mistake, they are God-given.

If I’m made in the image of God, in mind, body and spirit, and the God of the Bible gets angry, is grieved, or has any other emotion, then so can I. I have yet to see Jesus, the Father, or Holy Spirit try to repress how they feel in the Bible.

There’s no mention of Jesus beating himself up for being frustrated with the disciples’ lack of faith or after running the money changers out of the temple. I’ve never heard of Daddy God pretending not to regret that he had made people during all the antics of Noah’s time on earth. Nor have I known the Holy Spirit to pretend not to be grieved when I’ve gone my own way or made a mess of a gift I’ve been given.

They feel their feelings… they just don’t stay there. And made in their image, I can allow myself to do the same.

I can love God and still be frustrated that building and exercising faith can be hard, frustrating, and not at all fun. It’s okay, I can feel those feelings even as I keep walking forward with God. After all, it’s how I’m made.

Posted on by She Who Rises

Beware. This is war.

Sometimes I forget that I’m in a war.

Life moves along at its own pace and my attention to that war waxes and wanes depending on what’s happening day to day.

When things are running smoothly, I often forget about it altogether. But when an area of life blows up, I am astonished, wondering what happened to my peaceful reverie, if I’m not offended by the disruption altogether.

But the truth is that the war is on-going. Like a frog in an increasingly warm pot of water, I’m right in the thick of it, even if I don’t realize it at the time. Whether I’m paying attention or not, there are plans being made and implemented with the goal of taking me out. 

Why? Because I have an enemy. Not an enemy dressed up in a red suit and horns. But an enemy who stealthily finds their way into the events of my life and tries to use them against me.

The tactics may differ. It might come through a tempting scenario – something I have qualms about, but kind of want to do anyway. Or it might be suffering through an illness, a deep reaching hurt inflicted by another or even an accomplishment that blows my head up.

Anything that makes me take my eyes off of the goodness of God and the path forward.

It’s treacherous territory. Because no matter what it looks like on the surface, best believe that the design is always to pull me away from God, in whatever way that works – pleasure, pain, pride, you name it. Because then, more than any other time, I’m truly vulnerable.

But thank God for the Holy Spirit and praying friends, because throughout the trials of the past month, I’ve been reminded that not only am I in a war, but that I’ve got weapons. Here’s some big ones:

1. God’s Name

Call God by his names that fit with what you need in prayer. Remind God of his track record in situations like this (there’s about 100 names, but here’s a few):
– Jehovah Jireh (God my provider)
– Jehovah Shalom (God my peace)
– El Nathan Naqamah (God who avenges me)
– Jehovah Gibbor (The Lord strong and mighty)
– Jehovah Sabaoth (God of Angel Armies)
– Jehovah Shammah (God who is here)
– Jehovah Rapha (God who heals)
– El Roi (God who sees me)
– Jehovah Metsudhathi (God my fortress)
For a reference, try “The Ultimate Guide to The Names of God” by Elmer Towns

2. Your voice and God’s word

Speak God’s word about the specific problem OUT LOUD. Volume doesn’t matter. It could be a shout or a whisper, but say it. There’s power in your words, so use it.
– The Lord has declared that he will restore me to health and heal all my wounds (Jeremiah 30:17)
– Though the enemy comes against me one way, he will flee from me in seven ways (Deuteronomy 28:7)
– The Lord forgives all my sins and heals all my diseases (Psalm 103:3)
– The Lord has given me the mind of Christ (1 Corinthians 2:16)
– The Lords heals my broken heart and binds up my wounds (Psalm 147:3) – God didn’t give me a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, love and a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7) – If God be for me, who can be against me? (Roman’s 8:31)
– Psalm 91 is about God’s protection and help in battle. It’s a perfect add-on to any prayer

For a reference, try “The Secret Power of Speaking God’s Word” by Joyce Meyer. This little book is filled with scripture verses organized into categories that relate to life’s situations.

3. Worship

Who praises when facing trouble? People who know that help is on the way, that’s who.

Let God know how much of your heart he has and that you remember what he’s done for you before. Here’s a few songs for your rotation:
– Love you that much By: Mary Mary
– Still By: Mali Music
– My Everything By: Bri Babineaux
– The Worship Medley By: Ty Tribbett
– Stay Here By: The Belonging Co.
– Sweet Spirit By: God’s Property
– My Refuge By: Rivers and Robots
– Holy Spirit By: Jesus Culture
– Insatiable By: Kim Walker-Smith
– Do It Again By: Anthony Evans or Elevation Collective
– There’s Nothing By: Amanda Cook
– You don’t miss a thing By: Bethel Music & Amanda Cook – Open Space By: Housefires
– Highest Praise By: Amanda Cook
– Oxygen By: Steffany Gretzinger
– You’re Not Finished Yet By: The Belonging Co.
– Eyes on You By: Mosaic MSC

4. Repeat daily

You Got This. ❤

Posted on by She Who Rises

Looking for hope?

There’s a song filling every corner of my brain lately. It’s soft and somber, yet Gravity swells with emotion.

It paints a picture of us individually, worried, and stressed out over the details of life. Whether frivolous or meaningful, beautiful, or devastatingly painful, together they create an enormous weight, distracting us from what really matters and wearing us out day to day.

But what really matters?

Hope.

Not in things or changing circumstances. But, hope in a promise. And a hope that promises are kept by those who make them. Really, one person in particular. But back to the song.

Seeing all of your stress and struggle, God says, “Come up here with me. I want to show you something.” And clasping your raised hand, pulls you upward, from the ground through the atmosphere and beyond space and time, to the peaceful spot at his side. Sitting high above it all with your creator, you see what God sees.

High above the joy and the pain, you see beauty and order and process. And you realize that there’s more to all of this than you can see from your small corner of your world.

There are whole galaxies and universes upon universes being formed from nothing, stretched, destroyed, and re-formed anew. There’s an unknowable number of creatures, big and small, traveling carefully plotted paths that still, somehow, include a million options for them each to consider.

Complicated, yet there is a distinct order to what looks like chaos from down below. And it’s managed by one person, the one holding your hand right now.

… Sovereign … you are …

This part of the song stays on replay in my quiet moments.

Sovereign is a word that I know but rarely use. So I had to hit the dictionary to refresh my memory on its meaning and, among its definitions, found that it means: to possess supreme or ultimate power.

As in, one who has ALL of the power.

As in, the buck stops here. ✋🏾

It’s something to remember when you turn your attention back to the details of life. It’s something God has demonstrated in all manner of ways: here on Earth, in the heavens, in the Bible, and likely, in your life too.

That power, that reason for hope, is in these simple promises, from the only one who can always keep them:

I got this. And I see you.
I got this. And I’m with you.
Believe. Don’t doubt me.

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A hard lesson

Have you ever had to learn a lesson the hard way?

Maybe, as a child, you couldn’t contain your fascination at the flames dancing atop the stove, that is, until you got burned. I bet those flames lost their appeal real fast.

At the start, the thing, whatever it is, doesn’t seem dangerous, maybe even manageable. But eventually, we learn that what we see could only be the tip of the iceberg, and it usually is. There’s often a whole mountain beneath the surface. Unfortunately, the experience that comes with this discovery usually involves some broken bones, aka consequences.

In my journey with Jesus, I have sensed a guiding force that kind of taps me on the shoulder when I get too near dangerous terrain. It often signals me to “wait” or directs me to change course. Sometimes, it’s a gut instinct, other times it’s a still small voice that I don’t really hear with my ears, but sense somewhere within me. For years, I didn’t pay attention to either.

I thought I was wise enough to thoroughly assess every situation and make my own decisions. Most of the time, I thought those nudges were my fears trying to keep me from living. Just as often, I discovered that I couldn’t have been more wrong.

By ignoring my gut and what I now recognize as the Holy Spirit’s leading, I was headed straight into a disaster, something that could ruin my life.


Case in point, the day of this car accident, I knew that I needed to stay home. I had felt the nudge to get more rest. I had worked until the wee hours of the morning. But I still felt pressure to make it in, albeit around mid-day. I was extremely tired, too tired to be driving, especially in snowy and icy conditions. But I did it anyway.

In the end, I totaled my car and got a concussion. Thankfully, I was the only person impacted, and my insurance covered everything. God absolutely took care of me. Medical bills were covered, rental car paid for and eventually, even got a new (to me) car paid for in (mostly) cash. I was struggling through some intense migraines but was told it was temporary. I had reason to hope. I was enduring the consequences of my own stupid actions while witnessing God’s faithfulness all at the same time.

Now, almost 5 years later, I’m still struggling with debilitating migraines, and some serious cognitive issues that I wasn’t even aware of until a few months ago, but now seem plain as day when I look back over the years. It’s been tough… I can’t lie. Some days, I feel like I’m drowning.

I have often blamed myself. I mean, it is entirely my fault. But blaming doesn’t fix it. I beat myself up, too, but that doesn’t help either. I hold all my questions and complaints from God until I collapse, unable to stand up under it all. I think, “Why would God want to hear any of that anyway?” Though, I’m sure God already knows.

I can’t begin to know why God allowed things to go this way. And I have no idea what I might gain by this prolonged suffering from a God that makes all things work together for my good. But I have noticed something worth mentioning.

He hasn’t left.

That guiding presence, the admonition to wait, that still small voice hasn’t evaporated from my days. It’s still leading – sometimes to bed early, away from overexertion, to time with him – in his Word, to the right doctors and specialists. I didn’t expect it, but I’m learning a hard lesson about God’s faithfulness. I’m learning that it’s constant, even in the face of my own failure.

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Your Bright Future

Sometimes it’s hard to believe in the promises of God. That can be especially true for the ones that proclaim the good future that He has planned for you. Struggles like having a debilitating illness, navigating the ever-evolving face of trauma or even the nightly news can have any of us doubting that tomorrow could ever look any different than today. And it can get really real when you see the people around you getting what you desperately desire but are still waiting for.

I struggle with this a lot. Sometimes when I look at my present and at what’s behind me, all I see are the hard things and how so much of it looks the same, mainly the mistakes and the trials. They loom large in my vision and tend to block out my happier memories.

I have to remind myself daily of Jeremiah 29:11 – “For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”  And really, it’s the Holy Spirit doing the reminding, because there’s a negative thoughts playlist in heavy rotation in my mind that often tries to trip me up.

It’s the Holy Spirit who brings this verse to my mind and reminds me of the power of my words, which then leads me to speak it out of my mouth. It’s the Holy Spirit who leads me to write it and post it on my nightstand, so it’s one of the first things I see when I wake up and the last thing when I go to bed.

It’s the Holy Spirit who leads me to listen to the bible on my bible app. It’s the Holy Spirit who leads me to record bible verses in my own voice on my phone and then prompts me to play them on my commute or when I’m feeling anxious to help me renew my mind.  

I don’t always believe that I have a good future ahead of me and that’s the truth. Doubt sometimes eats me for breakfast. But it’s the Holy Spirit that reminds me that my negative thoughts are not all there is. There’s something else and it’s better. The Holy Spirit guides me back to hopefulness.

So, as much as I am writing this for you, know that I’m writing it for me too.

You have a bright future ahead of you. You might not always be able to see it, feel it or even believe that it’s possible. But there are more blessings than you can imagine up ahead. So, don’t worry. You don’t have to figure it all out. But you can ask for and receive help. So, ask. And the Holy Spirit will show up in the silence, in the simple things, and in the practical to guide you back to hope.  

Posted on by She Who Rises

Just Stay … please?

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but…

You are not alone.


You are seen.


You belong.


You are needed.


You are no accident.


You were made with intention, regardless of what’s happened since.


You have a purpose, despite all the pain.


So, stick around a little while longer to see what it will be.


Decide to stick around for one more day.

Just one – one day at a time.

Every day.

And I promise you will get there, love.

Because, for real, you really are loved.

If you need a virtual ear, hit me up @ creatorskind@gmail.com đź’ś

Posted on by She Who Rises

Seeing the big picture

Have you ever found yourself faced with a challenge that is so big and so overwhelming that you can’t tell whether you’re winning or losing?

Maybe you get sick or hurt and need to undergo a medical procedure. Thankfully, you have insurance, so you’re not responsible for most of the cost to address it. So, you use some savings, take out a loan or save your pennies to pay your deductible and co-pays.

You go to the doctor and work out a plan to fix the problem. You take test after test and exam after exam. You find yourself naked in the company of so many specialists that you wonder whether you should adjust your body count.

All of this takes a while, but eventually, you find yourself checking in at the hospital. And then, you wait. Before you know it, it’s over. You’re at home and recovering. Crisis over.

But now, as you make your way back to life as normal, something unexpected happens. You find new bills in your mailbox. Bills for this test, that exam, this specialist, and those medications. New bills arrive even as you pay the latest ones. You’re in a whirlwind, overloaded with bills for something that you thought was over and done with; something you thought was covered. And in confusion and frustration, you wonder, “Am I wasting my time? Will this ever stop?”

This is how the random flashbacks and intrusive thoughts of PTSD feel to me. No matter how much progress I think I’ve made, those two symptoms remind me that it’s not over. It’s a problem that refuses to go away, and certainly, not without a fight.

My way of fighting is to go to therapy, get enough sleep, stay on top of my medicine, workout, do things I enjoy, have alone time and time with people I love, eat well, journal and talk to God. These are the practices that have made a difference for me. But those moments when I am catapulted back into the original moment of pain feel like a setback. A big one. Beyond confusing and exhausting, it ticks me off.

It makes me angry at the people who caused the trauma. Angry at the person or situation that now reminds me of that trauma. Angry at the world for being so jacked up. Angry with myself for not being past this already. And, if I’m honest, a little angry at God too. Why? “Because I’m doing my part, aren’t I? Where is God?”

My anger temporarily blinds me to God’s many fingerprints that cover my story. Fingerprints that show up in the supports I have that are helping me heal, like therapy and friendships. But this blinding anger is a feeling that arises from some hidden bitter place in my heart, though I know better. My back and forth with PTSD makes me feel like I’m failing. And that makes me angry.

I have a friend that I appreciate and admire so very much. She’s a single mom and is working hard to raise her child to be a responsible and independent person with good character. Day in and day out, she invests every resource she has into this simple, but challenging goal. Yet, understandably, she sometimes gets overwhelmed and frustrated when the same mistakes and setbacks continue to happen again and again. Sometimes, she feels like she’s in this all alone. Sometimes, she feels like she’s failing.

One day, we were talking about a recent episode that brought those negative feelings back to the surface. And I saw something in her situation that I now see is true for me too. There’s a saying that describes it well. It says, “You can’t see the forest for the trees.” In other words, she’s in the weeds.

When I look at her child, I see a person who is smart, funny, kind, considerate and well-rounded. In him, I see the totality of her efforts in a singularly beautiful form. I see it all blending and working together in even the simplest things. But I am on the outside, watching her strategic parenting from afar. And she’s too close to the details, too close to every decision, to see the effects they have on the big picture. She doesn’t see that she’s winning.

I realize that it’s true for me and PTSD too. Where I am now with PTSD is not where I was 4 years ago or even last year. Though the uninvited symptoms still show their ugly faces, in the big picture, they have less of a hold on me now than before.

Today, there are fewer episodes with intrusive thoughts. Fewer random flashbacks. Less insomnia. Little to no nightmares. Less anxiety. Less crying myself to sleep. Less stress. Less hopelessness. Less need to be hypervigilant. More confidence. More peace.

In the big picture, where I am now is progress, even if it doesn’t always look like it in the moment. And as difficult as this fight has been, it is exactly because it has been so hard that nothing could ever make me believe that I did any of that fighting on my own. When I take a step back and look at the big picture, I see that I’m winning too, with God’s help.

What about you? What problem has you unable to see the forest for the trees?

©2022 Creatorskind

Posted on by She Who Rises · 1 Comment

One big little word.

I have to admit, I really struggled with my first post – the one that introduced me. Well, really, it was one word in it that I wrestled with. I went back and forth, unsure of the reaction it would garner. But in the end, I decided to call a thing what it is. So…I wrote, “mental illness” and left it there.

Illness. I struggled with that word as a characterization of the turf war that plays out in my brain day after day. I wondered whether “illness” was the best way to describe the cluster of mental health conditions that stormed into my life and send me both to prayer and therapy almost religiously.

I played with using mental health “challenges” instead, but it felt false. If it were anything else, any other condition, I wouldn’t even flinch. I wouldn’t hesitate to mention them in the same sentence. Brain cancer…illness. Asthma…illness. Dementia…illness. And it makes sense because illness is the opposite of wellness. To have a condition is to be unwell regarding that thing or even in general. Yet, the stigma that often accompanies anything about mental health makes me want a little distance. And adding that word to a sentence that also includes God, can turn my simple statement into a loaded gun…dangerous.

It’s a word choice that risks turning you off, possibly, forever. Because to some, mental illness means crazy. And to some, to have a mental illness and claim to have a relationship with God is the very definition of crazy or, at least, misguided. It is thought that a person with mental illness is always someone to be avoided because they might hurt themselves or hurt you. It’s something city dwellers are well acquainted with.  More than once, I have guided my feet to the other side of the street from someone screaming at no-one that I could see, while angrily sweeping up nothing on the sidewalk or chucking groceries out their front door. No, mental health “challenge” is easier to swallow. The only problem is that “challenge” cannot capture the full experience. At least, not mine.

A mental health challenge is feeling lonely after moving to a new city with no connections. A mental health challenge is listening to a whole SADE album on repeat following a difficult breakup and wondering why you can’t let go. A challenge isn’t chronic and debilitating. A challenge is intense yes, but ultimately, temporary. A challenge is overcome and eradicated after a battle.

An illness is the exact opposite. An illness is a war in the body. It is long-term and unrelenting. An illness brings you to your knees. An illness tries to take you out. And by that description, my own experience has been that of an illness. That’s how I have come to think of it. 

If it was a challenge, I might be tempted to tough it out on my own. But because it’s a war, I know that I have to be strategic.  I need weapons and power greater than my own. That’s why I go to God with it.  That’s why I align myself with God, because on my own, depression, anxiety and PTSD would take me all the way out.

With God, I am reminded to do my part. Move my body, eat right, drink water, go to therapy, rest, practice kindness toward myself, take this medication and use what I learn in therapy. With God, I learn to do my part while relying on God’s power to make it through, not my own. I don’t force it. I don’t strain. I glide. I flow. With God, I am able to do the work of living well with a mental illness.

Now don’t get it twisted, there are bumps along the way. It isn’t always pretty. But with God, I learn that my mental state, feelings, and history don’t define me. God does. And it’s God’s word that tells me who I am. Strong, courageous, and unafraid, because God is with me wherever I go, even when my feelings scream otherwise.  God’s grace – the unmerited favor I receive straight from the source – empowers me and makes God’s strength the perfect antidote to my weakness. It isn’t just a belief. It’s something that I know from experience.  So, because of that, I am calling a thing what it is and letting it be known.

What’s a word that you’ve had to tussle with before claiming it?

©2021 Creatorskind