My past is exactly that. My past. My present is the gift that each day brings. I haven't exactly been the best in the world and I am fully aware of that. I have struggled with depression for about 10 years now and have been making improvements in the past year thanks to my friends, family, therapists, and an organization called To Write Love On Her Arms. During my darkest days, these people would make sure I was doing well, showing me love that I didn't know that they were able to give.
A little bit before Christmas of last year, Derrick (from Access) gave us each a task. We had been talking about things that should break our hearts for a while on wend. nights. It seemed that God himself was looking at me, poking me, urging me to do this. I would simply look to the sky and just look, saying Really? Anyways, after much arguing, I knew my cause. To Write Love on Her Arms was not only something that dealt with something that broke my heart, but it was something I already had some experience with as it helped me.
Then came my decision. I emailed TWLOHA and asked if they were interested in doing chapters of this non profit organization on college campuses. I knew the hurt that I went through. I never want any single person to feel this pain by themselves. I see the hurt on my peer's faces walking to class or their cars. I want to help. I feel as if I have this light and I need to share it. What good light when it is kept in one place? Unexpectedly, I received an email saying that they would love to do this. Another affirmation from God. This kept on hurting more than you know. And so the process began.
As I worked more and more with TWLOHA, I realized that this is what I want to do with my life. I want to help people get through this. I know the hurt and I feel like I can relate to them on a real level. I've been there. I want to help. I was made for such a time as this. Then came some thoughts into my head.
1. What if the pain I was feeling was not for me? What if I was given this pain to help other people not experience by themselves. What if this pain was not meant to torture me? What if it was there to help?
2. What if my life is an answer to someone else's prayers? What if someone 10-20 years ago had this same passion? They might have been praying for ages, waiting to see this happen? Have they been praying that this campus would find the light and get through their depression, addictions, self injury or even suicide attempts?
All this time I was wondering if this was real. How am I supposed to do this? I mean, I'm just one person. How am I supposed to do all this by myself? Getting a whole campus to come out and talk about suicide, depression, addictions, etc is not going to be an easy task. Getting them to get help is an even harder task. If you look at the facts, 121 million people deal with depression worldwide, 18 of those are in the US. God just seemed to kinda give me a smack in the face, telling me that he will provide. Lo and behold, my roommate (the most amazing one ever) volunteered to help. Blessing from God she is. Then, everything just seemed to fall into place. It was amazing. I was able to go to the conference for TWLOHA and met some absolutely amazing people, experiencing the most love ever. I was challenged and encouraged and broken and elated. Such an awesome time.
If you are wondering about the status of this, keep tuned. To Write Love UNF is coming...slowly. There is much work to be done and I would love help. For more info, see the website twloha.com.
Love is there. Hope is present. Rescue is possible.
How can you know that this is what people are doing around you and you just look and turn your head, pretend that it is not there? This is real life. Deal with it. Be there for your peers. Be the hope in their life.
