Miracles are funny things. Well not really funny but awesome and wonderful- a way God shares His undying love with us. I find it funny the way humans dissect miracles.
A while ago I was having a conversation about miracles. My friend was talking about how a well known miracle was proven false because scientific reasons were found for the miraculous healing. If there is scientific reason does that disqualify an event as a miracle? No, no that’s no how I see it at all.
Miracles happen in all forms, shapes and sizes, some are big – larger than life, some are science defying miracles, but some are so small you never know exist, like calling a person at a perfect time that saved their life. There are miracles of every shape and size, and God doesn’t just use the power of heaven to accomplish His many miracles. A person who is sick, praying for healing and finds a unique doctor that is able to treat that unique illness just by chance- that’s a miracle. Yes, science saved them but what lead them to the doctor? What lead that doctor to find this unique treatment? Why did the percentage work in this case and not others?
I choose to believe this is Devine intervention. God is constantly blessing us with miracles, holding us in His hands. I think most of the time we are just to blind to see. Although miracles happen everyday, continuously to those who want to look for them. I believe I’m here and alive, purely by miracle.
Several years ago, my bipolar was slowly taking over my mind. Although, I’ve always known God, I’ve acted like a rebellious daughter often, pushing Him away and trying to control my life myself. So as I tried to be strong on my own and control my thoughts, my thoughts became less and less my own.
The characteristics I strive for-humility, loving, giving, trusting, honesty, kindness-were becoming non-existent. When my bipolar gets it’s claws in me, I become a very different version of me. Angry, paranoid, drought with drama, explosive and those are the good aspects. Bipolar me has very little insight and very a small filter. The real me normally puts up a good fight for control but occasionally I loose.
The everyday me has rather tight control of the reigns, over analyzing ever thought and emotion deciding if it’s real or appropriate. Regular me speaks slowly, weighing each word to make sure it’s not a bipolar diversion, but bipolar me gets upset, words start spewing and I can’t stop them. When bipolar takes my reigns I can be scary. During this particular time in my life, I lost all control, bipolar had the reigns more and more and pushing me out.
I wasn’t eating right and wasn’t sleeping well and quite frankly my life was was shit, practically no income, no home. I was lucky to eat. I was relying on my own strength and not God. As the weeks past, I realized I was loosing chunks of time and even worse I was loosing hope. I wanted it all to end, suicide contemplation was constant. I was at a traffic light and an impulse, so strong I could barely stop it, flooded my mind. I saw the image unfold, played it out in my mind… A 18 wheeler was plowing forward with a green light, if I slammed on the gas drove in front of him, the impact would be inevitable. No way I would live through that, I moved my foot towards the gas, I wanted nothing more than to die.
So much can happen in a moment, the sane part of me thought about the truck driver who would have to live with killing a girl and what about innocent bystanders, should they have to live with watching a girl die? That’s the only thing that stopped me.
I pulled into the closest parking lot and search for help. I was loosing control, I didn’t know if next time I could convince myself to care about others, the drive to kill myself was so strong. I asked for help but no one was available. I probably didn’t seriously seek help. I didn’t want to live.
As I asked for help, I prepared for my death. I tried to clear away any blame others could put on those in my life. As I half heartedly sought help, I planned my death. It’s what I really wanted, more than anything, to go home to God. I didn’t want to be such a burden to those I loved, such a constant failure, or feel pain anymore.
I knew not to drive until I knew exactly how I could commit such an act.
It’s not that easy. I’ve had more failed attempts than I can admit. Pills don’t work, for years I slowly moved up to stronger and stronger pills, higher doses, more complex mixes of deadly doses: which only induce severe vomiting, once a comma and a horrible recovery. In the past when I tried to hang myself: the rope broke, when I tried to shoot myself: the gun jammed, when I tried to slit my wrist: no matter how hard I pushed the knife would not go through my skin.
I was ashamed of this part of me, I hated myself for hating myself for being a burden. Hid that I was hurting and when an attempt failed hid that too. I hate bipolar me. I felt broken and hopeless.
Finally I figured it out, a perfect unstoppable plan to kill myself.
I would go up to one of my favorite hiking spots, a beautiful mountain overlook and jump. I always felt close to God up there. The rain would keep people away. No way I would survive, no one would see.
I know my way. I know the hike. I was sure my plan would work. I hoped the fall would kill me, if it didn’t the injuries or exposure would before someone found me. I was very confident in my permanent, no innocent bystanders. By midnight I would be dead.
I began to drive with purpose. I had a good plan, others would be safe, I could drive without risking another life.
After that I’m not real sure what happened. I was in the hospital. Not one I’d ever been to before. I was calmly telling a woman that I wouldn’t try anything in there. I wasn’t going to try anything unless it would work. No, I didn’t want to live.
After being admitted, I kept wondering how I got there, what happened to the perfect plan. It didn’t make sense. I was so upset I could barely speak. I wasn’t crying, but oddly calm. I wanted to be dead and was waiting to leave to complete my plan.
How on earth did I screw up such a perfect plan? How did I wind up in here?
After a couple days I became apathetic. I was beyond not caring. Not caring would imply I gave any thought to caring, I didn’t. I was emotionally empty, anything resembling Hannah had left the building. I wasn’t mean, I wasn’t nice, I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t happy…. I would walk where they told me to, I ate when it was time, colored when told, showered when told, answered a question when ask but mostly sat and stared. I had no desire to live and would have preferred death but really, I didn’t care.
But then something interesting happened. This random hospital I ended up at offered a controversial treatment, it was dangerous and sometimes didn’t fix anything. But the doctors said I was a prime candidate. I remember signing the papers they put in front of me, finding it ironic I had to sign a paper saying I understand this treatment might kill me. I wanted to be dead, why would I care. They told me I might loose short term memory, I think I made a bitter sarcastic joke, maybe I will forget I want to be dead.
I signed away my life and memory, without a care. I agreed to be hooked up to a machine that would electrocute parts of my brain. You’ve heard of this treatment in all the horror movies about insane asylums ElectroShockTherapy. Although now it’s referred to as ECT, ElectoConvulsiveTherapy.
I share the details because this was my big miracle. It was God. Yes, there is a lot of science that backs Electro Convulsive Therapy. Yes, I drove to the hospital, don’t remember it but my car was in the parking lot. I am sure GPS can prove this. Yes, this hospital was only 20 miles down the rode from where I planned to kill myself but so is my local hospital. Before my stay I didn’t know that hospital existed. I passed at least two hospitals on the way to kill myself, where I didn’t seek help. The fact that I didn’t end up on that mountain, I didn’t jump and went to a hospital with an incredible Pysch department, with controversial treatment, while I was depressed enough to accept this treatment was a miracle. So many what ifs and possibilities and coincidences had to collide for this set of circumstances to occur.
For day my family and friends couldn’t find me thought I was dead. The girl that walked into the hospital didn’t walk out. It’s been over two years. I’ve had two short, mild highs or lows. I’ve been weened off the medicines I had been taking for twenty years. I’m still emotional, things make me sad or happy, I still do bipolar assessments on my moods. But I’ve been through some serious trials and haven’t felt depressed. I’ve maintained and even keel.
Oh, you know my earthly mind worries. Wonders when the other shoes going to drop, when the bottom is going to completely drop out, when bipolar is going to take over my mind once again. But then I remember I am safe, God is in control: He quite literally took the wheel and saved my life. God healed me, I am greatly thankful to all the people who helped but I give all glory to God it was a miracle.
God says have faith, fear not, and give me your troubles. When I needed God most He drove me to the hospital. Now I take the time to see the everyday miracles. The day after a fight with my best friend, I was shown the beautiful blue morning glories. My incorrigible three leg cat that God gave me to provide love and hope and a constant life lesson. A hug from a little one. My autistic son smiling Christmas morning. A place to live and food on my plate. The incredible man God has blessed me with to love me and help me grow. This blog a bless to share His love! Constant never ending miracles and blessing surround us we just have to open our eyes and see.
Humility Grace Mercy
Genesis 43:23 ASV
 And he said, Peace be to you, fear not: your God, and the God of your father, hath given you treasure in your sacks
Matthew 17:20 ASV
 And he saith unto them, Because of your little faith: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.
Matthew 6:25-34 ASV
 Therefore I say unto you, be not anxious for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than the food, and the body than the raiment?  Behold the birds of the heaven, that they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; and your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not ye of much more value then they?  And which of you by being anxious can add one cubit unto the measure of his life?  And why are ye anxious concerning raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:  yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.  But if God doth so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?  Be not therefore anxious, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?  For after all these things do the Gentiles seek; for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.  But seek ye first his kingdom, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.  Be not therefore anxious for the morrow: for the morrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.