In September 2022, Steve and I made the 8-hour trek from Manteo to Charlotte with our moving truck and all our belongings.
It was late in the evening when I got out of the vehicle, walked into the main bedroom of our new home–and immediately burst into tears.
Wait. I take that back. I did not burst into tears.
What I actually did was put my face against the wall and wail. I wailed to the extent that Steve started worrying if I was going to pull out of it.
I was exhausted in every way. We had just closed the door for the last time on the home we had lived in for thirteen years. We’d had a grueling final month in Manteo, packing up a large house and saying goodbye to many dear people, and saying goodbye to the ministry life we’d had for four decades.
And so, when I walked into the unkempt bedroom of our Charlotte home, all I could picture was the lovely bedroom we had left behind. I was too exhausted to even think straight. The only thing my emotions and body could manage was to wail out all the fatigue and grief and change from the preceding moments leading up to the change.
I wasn’t the only one who was struggling.
Not many people knew Steve had been dealing with major depressive disorder, anxiety, and a fatigue with life that went all the way into his bones. We had both said goodbye to our mothers just a few months before his retirement. The year before, we had been through the heart-rending experience of thinking Sarah’s cancer had returned, just weeks before her wedding. Our hearts were still raw from her illness (hospitalization and the diagnosis of a desmoid tumor) even over a year after it happened.
And then came retirement, leaving our church and community, selling our lovely home, and moving to a place with no friends. We had to settle his parents’ estate and then start the process of finding a new place to belong.
It was a long journey for us both, but especially for Steve as he entered into a stressful transition season carrying the weight of his depression. Retirement isn’t easy under the best of circumstances. There are so many adjustments to be made, especially going overnight from being needed all the time by everyone (in a pastorate) to suddenly being needed by many fewer people. The community and connections were gone, and we were left with an old (but dear) home filled with his parents’ belongings and greatly in need of renovation and repair.
There were months and months of chaos that followed our move-in, packing their things up, unpacking our own things, and having remodeling done, all at the same time. Since we were entering the winter season, we experienced gloomy short days, longer nights, and a rising sense of being adrift and losing the anchor of who we used to be.
For two reasons.
First, because we are approaching the fourth anniversary of our retirement and our move to Charlotte. The sun is shining in our lives again, even though depression still makes an appearance from time to time–for both of us. If you’ve ever struggled with depression, you know there is no silver bullet or easy fix. It involves a daily trusting in and reliance on God’s new mercies every morning and, if needed, taking advantage of the gifts of therapy and medication.
I’m also writing about this because I want our story to encourage you and remind you that you are not alone. Steve and I want to make people feel comfortable with being able to say, “I am depressed” without feeling ashamed or feeling like a failure.
If you’ve struggled with depression, weariness deeper than words, anxiety, loss of a loved one, a difficult transition, or finding your way in a new place, we’ve been there. We all struggle with silent pain and grief–Steve, me, you, and the people we love. None of us is immune.
Steve and I are living life quietly right now, maybe so quietly that some people may not understand. But it’s what we’ve needed to find our own road to healing and health. We are content with the horizon outside our front door, the feeling of coming home, and the peace that comes from the sun that shines on this old house once again.
What about you?
Does any of this post resonate with you?
I’ll close with a song I wrote and recorded a long time ago. I have posted it before, but its message just seems to go well with what I’ve written today. I took the title of this post from the song.
Like A Blanket
1. There’s no way to escape it, and no words to explain
The turbulence inside this hurricane
The wind blows without mercy, the rain is pounding down
I’m huddled underneath the sky with nobody else around
Then I hear Your voice inside the wind, and I am suddenly
Safe and warm and sheltered by Your presence over me
CHORUS Like a blanket, cover me
Clothe my soul, Lord, in Your peace
Hold my heart, tenderly
And like a blanket, cover me
2. The nights are growing longer, the rain has turned to snow
It’s been too cold to cry, too hard to hope
I’m shivering in the silence, frozen by my fear
Wishing for a way that I could be far away from here
Then I hear Your voice inside the wind, and I am suddenly
Safe and warm and sheltered by Your presence over me
BRIDGE So many seasons of the soul, so many changes yet to be
And yet through it all I know You will be there to shelter me
Thank you for this post!!! Can you please email me your song? xoxo
Eswim,
Will get it out to you soon!
What a beautiful, heartfelt post. Thank you for sharing, Becky. And your song is absolutely beautiful! It was so helpful to me to listen to it tonight as I just learned that my best friend’s son is heading to basic training 2 days before Thanksgiving. That is my best friend’s favorite holiday and her baby will not be there for it or Christmas. One of her daughters most likely also won’t be. I know she’s so proud if her boy, as we all are, but I also know she’s heartbroken at the timing. I would love to send the song to her! I thought about sending this whole post but if she reads the lyrics she won’t listen to the song. Please pray for her and for her son. He’s never been away from home before. At least he will be doing training very close to where he grew up!
Lizz,
That is so difficult to have a favorite holiday with one or more children missing from the table. Seems like the military would have delayed training a couple of days but I guess they have a schedule to keep.
I’d be glad to email the song to your email, if you’d like. Glad it was a comfort and encouragement to you.
That would be amazing! Thank you! Do you have access to my email address or do I need to leave it here?
Lizz,
Sent it to your email; did it come through?
Beautiful post. Thanks much for sharing this all.
It is OK to be human is a powerful and empowering message to every human on the planet!
Eva,
Thank you for your encouragement and for your own words of wisdom that is is okay to be human!”
Thank you for sharing that Becky. I have struggled with depression since my son was born in 1992, i think it was partly post partum and also the fact that my father and stepfather were both diagnosed with lung cancer and ended up dying 10 months apart….I was in therapy for awhile…it waxed and waned over the years. It is such a misunderstood disease, after my mother passed away very unexpectedly in 2009 I was devastated and my husband told me to take a walk and I would feel better (he was a very kind man, just never understood clinical depression). Then we moved from KS where I had raised my kids to NC 13 years ago, leaving our kids behind. I was so depressed living there, just spent the day on my computer….eventually both kids moved there which was good but then my husband passed away of a pulmonary embolism after surgery 3 years ago and we were shocked and once again I fell into a deep depression. I did go through grief therapy and antidepressants but it’s always lurking, some days I sleep until noon. My son just moved back to KS and I made the decision to move back as well…it will be good to be near him and I still have a lot of friends here who have reached out and want to reconnect. I have been following your journey since before you moved to Manteo and know how hard it was to lose your moms so close to one another and to make the move to Charlotte. My husband had retired shortly before he passed away and even though he didn’t admit it, he was depressed especially with his health issues. He was a people person and it was hard for him to be isolated. He was an avid golfer and had looked forward to playing a lot in his retirement but was unable due to his back problems. I send big hugs to you and Steve ,
Dale,
You have definitely been through some things over the past 25 years! Postpartum depression is often under-diagnosed and then to lose your father and stepfather within 10 months just added more sadness. And then to unexpectedly lose your mother and husband in the following years was just grief upon grief.
I’m so glad you mentioned grief therapy and antidepressants; so many people toss those aside as not holding any sort of answer but they are definitely helpful in keeping your head above water long enough to start recovering.
Sounds like a really good decision to move back to Kansas where your son and old friends are; I’m so glad you are there reconnecting with some of the good parts of your previous life there.
I think it’s about time for a happy, hopeful season in your life. Blessings!
Becky,
Thank you for sharing this! I suspect that might not have been easy. Anxiety has been a struggle for me over the years. My husband used to have depressive tendencies; I think the Lord healed him of that during a particularly challenging time in our lives. He lost a job one time — for no apparent reason — and struggled when dealing with the emotional fallout of that. (I will say now that two of the guys who fired him are very close friends now and regretted their decision!) We went on a scheduled trip not long after this happened, when we were still unsure of our path forward. We saw a pastor-friend on this trip who basically told my husband he was not walking closely with the Lord if he was depressed. Not particularly helpful!
I am thankful that you are both seeing some healing and getting some rest. I pray that God will bless you and meet your needs.
I just love these verses from Exodus 2. I pray that they will encourage you and Steve. He sees you and knows you.
“During those many days the king of Egypt died, and the people of Israel groaned because of their slavery and cried out for help. Their cry for rescue from slavery came up to God. And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. God saw the people of Israel—and God knew.”
DeLynn,
You’re right–the post wasn’t real easy to write.
Oh my. Your pastor friend who gave that “helpful advice” really riles me. There are so many people who give trite, shallow answers in incredibly in situations. As you said, not helpful at all.
But how cool is it that your husband is now friends with the guys who fired him? I loved hearing that.
I’m sorry you have struggled with anxiety for so many years. The wonderful passage you sent to us I am sending right back to you for your days of struggle. How comforting to be reminded that we are seen and known.
I’m currently moving (in 2 weeks) back to Wilmington after two years looking after some older family members in my hometown in Pennsylvania. We are returning to the same house, which I kept knowing this period wasn’t permanent, and it’s a familiar town where we already know friends and neighbors. Still, it means change and disruption of routine, and packing up the stretch of life we had here. And big transitions are always weighty, even when you’re very sure it’s the right move in the long term. Your move was so huge in so many ways! Practically, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually. No wonder it settled deep in your bones. This whole being a corporeal creature thing isn’t for the faint of heart. Personally, I’ve always been a melancholy sort for whom life feels rather gritty. But you keep pushing forward, looking for the light moments, treasuring them when you find them and the seasons when they are more plentiful. I’m glad that you and Steve are now finding some peace and relaxation after getting the bulk of a massive transition behind you. I hope this era lasts a good long time!
Ellen,
Well, you win the award for using the most interesting word! I knew what corporeal meant but didn’t know how to pronounce it. So I looked it up and now I know. 🙂
There is nothing quite like transition–it changes not just your physical location but your mental and emotional viewpoint as well. There are few things that remain the same and that can be really hard. But also sometimes exhilarating.
Yes, life can be gritty, indeed. But the pushing forward, the looking for the light moments, and the treasuring of them when you find them is good advice (from you) for all of us.
Thanks for sharing your experience!
Yes, we’ve made a big transition by moving and retiring too. It’s hard. Really, really hard. Thanks for the validation.
LeeAnne,
Yes, when you retire AND move all at the same time, it doubles the transition stress. Definitely understand what you’ve gone through.
I’ve suffered from anxiety for several years, but am able to keep it mostly controlled through medication. While never clinically depressed, I’ve certainly had my down moments and had to remind myself of God’s mercies and remember that there are always blessing in my life. Thank you for being so vulnerable and sharing your & Steve’s journey. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to leave such a beautiful place as the OBX, let alone to a place where you knew practically no one. It warms my heart that now you have both children and their families close by after so many years of being apart. And I enjoy “watching” as y’all continue to turn your home into a peaceful haven. Hope you all have a wonderful week.
Sue Ellen,
I’m so thankful for the medications that are available for anxiety and depression. They can make such a huge difference.
And even more thankful for God’s mercies and strength to help to get through the hard days. My mom’s favorite verse was, “The joy of the Lord is my strength.” I love that promise–for you, for me, and for anyone who struggles.
Thank you so much for sharing this. You are such a blessing.
Lynn,
Thank you so much for your message; I had second thoughts about posting this and I’m glad it was a blessing.
So glad to hear that song once again, so calm and soothing. Thank you for speaking about mental illness. It still carries such a stigma, which is ironic considering such a large percentage of the population is affected by it, as well as their families. It can be all encompassing. I am so glad Steve has turned the corner.
My family happens to have Bipolar running through it and Depression/anxiety. We do our best to recognize the signs early and encourage each person to reach out for psychiatrist/therapy/medication as appropriate. Overcoming the stigma is harder for some than others. We will teach the upcoming generation about it as they reach the early teen years, since they will be high risk. But its been very very hard on all of us as the amount of worry is hard to hold.
Some speak up quickly, seek a diagnosis and treatment and they do very well going forward. A full life is being had, yes there are bumps in the road but they call their doctor, discuss actions, things settle down and they are on their way once again.
Then we have the deniers. They cannot accept the fact that everything is not ‘fine’. They try to ignore it and just ride the wave. The illness gets worse. It then actually prevents them from seeking help. If they are over 18, there is nothing anyone can do to force them to accept help. And so we watch the fall. It is very frustrating and very sad.
Some people are in the middle and family support is so helpful to get them going, brainstorm different options, listen to their concerns and cheer them on. There is much hope. It doesn’t matter how fast it goes, it only matters that its going in the right direction.
So YAY for talking about it Becky, we need to normalize mental health issues. Thank you and thank you to Steve for allowing her to share your story. It matters.
Lesley,
“The amount of worry is hard to hold.” That is such an accurate way to describe the deep feelings we have when we know family members are struggling, especially the deniers who don’t accept the help that is available. Bipolar is an incredibly difficult disorder, as much for the loved ones as for the person who suffers from it.
Good for you for being proactive in teaching the upcoming generation what to be on the lookout for. That way, they aren’t caught off guard and can find effective medication/therapy early in the process. You mentioned brainstorming different options, listening to concerns and cheering family members on. It’s great to hear that you aren’t taking this sitting down but finding ways to support them and gain more knowledge to help your family live a healthy life.
I’m glad our story opened a conversation for a few people here in the comments. As you said, a great number of people deal with mental illness and it doesn’t make sense that it’s not talked about more freely. Thanks for being one of those who is speaking out and being so supportive to the ones you love.
I have been blessed not to suffer with depression, but I have close family members who do and it is a tough thing to deal with. I absolutely love your song. What a peaceful thing to vision, God covering us with a blanket which is a comforting vision in itself. Thank you for sharing with us. Wendy
Krueth,
So glad you enjoyed the song. It’s one of my favorites that I’ve written.
It’s good to be reminded about that blanket of peace covering us as we deal with our own difficult times and the struggles of family members we love. Blessings to you today.
How deeply this resonates with me, and what a gift your words are. The crushing weight of depression and anxiety, and the stigma that surrounds them (especially in the Christian community) have visited me as well. I had an accident a decade ago that resulted in a traumatic brain injury, and it seemed to trigger a serious mental health crisis. I spent months in psychiatric hospitals, trialed over 20 medications, and was out of work for much of a year. I have stabilized into a high level of functioning but don’t expect to ever feel like I did before my accident. In my experience, what is most isolating is not the symptoms themselves, but the feeling of needing to keep them hidden under layers of “normality” with most people. Isn’t it odd how various illnesses have different levels of “appropriateness” in terms of public discussion? You have a broken wrist and everyone asks you how it is healing every time you see them. You have depression and you paste on the smile while out of the house, even as you lose the ability to function. I don’t personally believe that “everything happens for a reason” or that tragedy is “God’s will for my life,” but I deeply believe that there is nothing so terrible that you can’t find a way to use it to bring healing into the world. I have become a mental health resource in my community of friends and family. When someone has questions about therapy or medication or how to get help for a loved one, I offer everything I can from my experience.
Robin,
I am reading through your comment, nodding, and saying “Amen.” What you said about various illnesses of different levels of appropriateness is so very true. Especially, as with Steve, if you’re in a place of leadership and don’t always feel like you can be completely transparent and vulnerable. I know there are countless people who can relate to what you said.
It greatly irks me that the Christian community has not always been kind or understanding about these issues.
I can’t imagine that period in your life of being in psychiatric hospitals and trying all those different medications. And even now, not sure if you will ever feel like your old self again. That is an incredible amount of trauma to deal with.
I love that you are offering everything you can from your experience to others who are facing similar things. I once heard a speaker say, “There are people waiting for us on the other side of our pain.”
That is what you are doing–reaching those people on the other side of what you’ve been through and helping them down the road. Could there be a greater ministry?
Depression is so scary. I’m glad you’re both aware that it’s not a shameful disease. I have relatives who were finally properly diagnosed and treated, and it literally saved them.
Having that much upheaval in a short period of time is so stressful, and I recall that you had a struggle with finding a church home, which was so very important to you both.
Too much, too much.
You’ve turned this retirement journey and house-fixing into a story worth telling. I’m looking at retirement in two years (I hope!) and have already begun to plan things to do, to keep myself busy! I like being needed.
Stefanie,
“It literally saved them.” That is such an amazingly powerful phrase–depression doesn’t have to be the end of the road.
You did well to remember we had a struggle with a home church when coming to Charlotte which made everything so much harder.
I appreciate you saying this has been a story worth telling. I know that when you retire (and after that adjustment period is over), you will live many good stories of your own!
One of my all time favorite songs that you have written and sung. It’s like a hug for my heart every time I hear it. ❤️
Your post reminds me anew of all you and Steve endured during the time frame you described. They were surely times that tried your souls. And proof that God does indeed guide His dear children along and give them the grace and strength needed to survive. Otherwise you would not be here to tell the story, still in your right mind with faith, good humor and marriage intact!
Thank you for sharing so transparently. It is encouraging to read your story and be reminded that we all struggle, we all have seasons of fiery trials, we all question and doubt and decide if we’re going to keep fighting and believing. It’s good to know others are traveling besides us. Sending so much love and appreciation to you both, my dear traveling companions!
Love, Deb
Deb,
I love the thought of the song being a “hug for your heart.” Such lovely imagery. Seems like our hearts need a lot of hugging in times like these.
I am definitely glad to have my faith, good humor, and marriage intact. And I am mostly in my right mind. 🙂
Transparency is a scary thing sometimes, but I feel like if Steve and I struggle with things, other people might be struggling as well. As you said, it’s always good to be reminded we aren’t alone in our hard times.
Looking forward to seeing you next month! 💕
While retirement is a great opportunity to slow down, sleep a little longer, volunteer a little more, it is an adjustment. I felt needed, I knew what was going on. I don’t have that anymore but I am blessed to have a great family and friends to keep my spirits up. Prayers for Steve and all who struggle with depression and mental illness.
Marjie,
“I felt needed. I knew what was going on.” Such true statements about being in the work place. People come to me with problems and questions and I love being the go to gal to help them out. I think I am probably going to struggle with adjusting when I retire–whenever that turns out to be.
Thank you for your sweet ending line. You are an encouragement!
Love you Becky! I don’t know how to put it in words but I see so much of where I am at in my life right now with your post. You speak to my soul and your song is beautiful. All the years I have followed you I never heard it. I am having health issues and my father is 94 and I know what I have instore will be overwhelming. But I have faith and believe I will get thru it with the love from my family. I always say one step at a time, one issue at a time. I know you and Steve have each other and got this whole new chapter in your life, along with the love of your wonderful family. Bless you and appreciate your post to show me I am not alone with my feelings.
Karen,
“One step at a time. One issue at a time.” That is so true. Sometimes you get into a place in life where it is not a whole day to get through but just a step. And then another.
Thank you for letting me know my song was meaningful to you; that means a lot so long after I wrote it. I am thankful my music can still makes a difference.
Blessings on you as you deal with your own health issues and care for your dad. May God give your strength and joy for your journey.
Beautifully written. We also are living life quietly in retirement. I love where we live, but still have my depressed moments where I want the life I left behind when we moved 16 years ago. I do have friends, but they don’t know my past like the friends I left behind. I try to look out into our yard to calm my thoughts and hold my memories.
Patti,
I know the feeling of looking back at how life used to be in this season or that season. I love that you look out into nature to calm your thoughts. There is something about seeing grass, and trees, and sky that brings such a deep sense of peace. There are so many good things for you yet to come!
Your comment: ‘living life quietly right now, maybe so quietly that some people may not understand.’ resonates 100% with me. 8 years navigating the loss of my husband has profoundly changed me, and I continue to hear the whisper of a quiet life!
Thank you, for always sharing so openly and authentically..
Kim,
So great to hear from you!
I’m glad my comment was meaningful to you.
So often we are encouraged to live busy, non-stop lives and I’ve done my share of that. But this is not that season. Sounds like you and I are both hearing the “whisper of a quiet life.” ❤️