A Few of My Favorite Things {2022}

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by Elizabeth

I haven’t published a Favorite Things post for over two years – not since the pandemic began – and I wasn’t sure exactly how to begin them again. But there were all these little things I wanted to talk about. Things that might seem superficial or insignificant but that help me enjoy life more, and those things are important.

There’s so much heaviness in the world right now; there has been for quite some time. I’ve always tended to talk about big, heavy things, but I don’t know how to talk about some of these things. I want to acknowledge the distressing things going on in the world right now (the war in Ukraine, the gun violence in the States, the difficult economy, the unpredictability of the pandemic, the continuing political divisions in my country). They are big, and they are important, and they weigh on me – as I’m sure they weigh on you.

But while we can’t ignore the heaviness, I also don’t want to ignore the little joys in life. So today I’m going to inject a little lightness into this blog with some of the things that I’ve been enjoying in my life over the past year or so. Who knows? Maybe this post will be the thing that will inspire me write again more frequently.

SKIN CARE AND HAIR CARE

Differen (adapalene) gel. For years I’ve been using 2% salicylic acid to care for my oily, acne-prone skin. Then I read about differin gel, which is the only over-the-counter FDA-approved prescription strength retinoid. Retinoids are a form of topical Vitamin A that are good for both acne and signs of aging. Differin is designed more for anti-acne purposes than anti-aging purposes, but it still does double duty. Of course, I have responsibly paired the adapalene with a good sunscreen to protect from further sun damage and a good nighttime moisturizer to counteract the drying effects of the retinoid. (These are both from Cerave and are both designed for the oily skin that I have.)

Highlights. I walked into a salon in February searching for myself. That’s a pretty big statement, so let me unpack it. The whole time I was in Cambodia, I didn’t do much with my hair. I kept it long and put it in braids, buns, or ponytails. The heat made it necessary to keep hair off your neck (except maybe once a year in December), and the constantly blowing fans that were supposed to reduce the effects of that heat made it necessary to keep hair off your face, too. Result: boring hairstyles. Additionally, over the decade that I lived in Cambodia, my hair turned from a lighter blonde to what my stylist would call a “dark blonde.” (In my mind, it was sooo dark, but she assured me it really wasn’t.)

So I walked into the salon looking for something different, something new – or was I really looking for something old? I didn’t know what the lighter color and shorter length was going to look like or feel like, but when my stylist turned me around to look at the back of my hair in the mirror, I nearly cried. I looked like the me I had always known. (30+ years is a long time to stay naturally blonde.) I did the highlights for me, but it turned out that my husband loved them too. Score one for Team Trotter.

Purple shampoo. Purple shampoo counteracts the brassiness/yellowness of blonde highlights and keeps them looking fresh. I use this about once a week, and it makes me happy.

Lather/Rinse/Repeat. The bleach used for blonde highlights can damage your hair, and I did notice more dryness and brittleness after getting the highlights. Then I started double conditioning, and everything is soft again. I don’t know why this works or why one application of conditioner isn’t enough. I only know that this does work.

Heatless curls. This solves two problems: damage from heating tools and a lack of time (or lack of commitment to the time it would take) to style my hair. I just sleep in a curling ribbon (robe-curl-style), and in the morning I take it out. Voila! I have curls. They loosen up throughout the day and become waves, but I’m happy with both. I do this once or twice a week and definitely on Sundays!

Silk pillowcase. I bought one of these to protect my skin and hair from excess tugging and pulling. At first I didn’t notice that much of a difference until one night when I had to sleep without the silk one. Ouch! Everything hurt. These are inexpensive and are a nice way to pamper yourself.

HEALTH AND FITNESS

Tempeh. I hadn’t tried tempeh because I just couldn’t get over the mental hurdle of fermented soybeans. (And also I had seen some photos of it, ew.) But since it’s such a healthy, high-protein alternative to meat, and since my family had gotten tired of tofu scramble, I needed some new recipes. And you know what? Tempeh is delicious, filling, and easy. We do Tempeh Bolognese, Tempeh Tacos, and Sweet and Sour Tempeh (which tastes almost like my Cambodian helper’s Sweet and Sour dish).

Roastaroma tea. I go through phases of really liking this tea and then not craving it at all. I’m currently in a craving stage. It’s bitter, like dark chocolate (I go for 90% these days, by the way), and it’s what made me realize that I actually like bitter. I think it’s one of the flavors God made us to enjoy, but our modern packaged food culture, with all its salt, sugar, and unhealthy fats, has dulled our appreciation for its unique flavor.

I also go in for Chai Green Tea from time to time, which gives the health benefits of green tea without the flavor of plain green tea, which for some reason I don’t care for. My favorite flavors are still probably peppermint and spearmint (I prefer spearmint, but it’s harder to find).

Daily walk. I’ve realized that life in Joplin, MO, as a homeschool educator and freelance editor is not as naturally active as my life in Phnom Penh, where I climbed endless sets of staircases and walked the streets frequently. So about a year ago I added a short one-mile walk to my day (Leslie Sansone anyone??). I go through phases where I get busy and forget, but I always feel better on the weeks when I consistently take a one-mile walk in the afternoon, before doing a harder workout after supper.

Step workouts/heavier weights. About the time I realized I needed more activity in my life, I also realized I needed to level up my exercise regime. I already had a step with risers, and I bought an extra set of risers to increase the step height. I already had 3 kg weights (6.6 lbs) from Cambodia, but I bought a set of 8 lb dumbbells from the local sports store. Each of these things has helped me increase my fitness and reduce my stress – because, let’s face it, exercise is more about happiness than about appearance.

In fact I have quite the ritual for evening stress relief. I exercise, I take my magnesium supplements, I take a relaxing shower, and I read in bed. I don’t know why, but reading in bed puts me to sleep pretty fast. I need to read a few pages of fiction (I’m currently in a P.G. Wodehouse novel) to put my mind to sleep, even if I’m already physically exhausted. This of course means it can take me a long time to get through a novel.

FAMILY MOVIE NIGHTS

One of my favorite things to do is introduce my kids to the movies I enjoyed as a child. They’ve enjoyed this tradition so much that from time to time they ask if I remember any other movies from my childhood that they haven’t seen. Here I’m highlighting the funny ones in alphabetical order (because it’s hard to choose a favorite, though Bejeweled and North Avenue Irregulars come close).

Bejeweled. A 1990s Disney Channel mystery movie. So hilarious (but also hard to find).

Candleshoe. A 1970s Disney mystery with Jodie Foster. May have initiated my lifelong love affair with “Greensleeves.”

Follow That Bird. A 1980s Sesame Street movie. Cleverly written to be enjoyable by adults and children alike, and impressive in its inclusion.

Freaky Friday. The 1970s Disney version, of course.

No Deposit, No Return. A 1970s classic caper movie, also by Disney. Utterly unrealistic but tons of fun.

Savannah Smiles. A 1980s B movie that is absolutely hilarious. Shares some similarities with No Deposit, No Return.

The North Avenue Irregulars. Another 1970s flick. A bunch of church ladies on a crazy adventure. My children know that to make me laugh, all they have to do is quote a random line from this movie.

VOCATION
Stories Set Free. A year ago I didn’t have a business. Now I’m booked a month or two in advance. I didn’t believe in myself, but Jonathan encouraged me to put myself out there anyway. I’m glad I took the risk! I love my clients. I believe in the work they are doing, and I love reading their words and working with them to shape and smooth their stories. It is an absolute privilege to work with writers, and I’m thankful.

A Life Overseas. I continue to lead the missions website that I’ve been leading for 7 years. I love my writers, both new and known. I love receiving their submissions and sharing their true and beautiful messages with a larger community. I love helping them craft their words until they are just right. Readers still talk about how much they appreciate the articles, and the journey continues to be an exciting one (for example I’ve added several new writers this past year, and I’m adding a few more soon). For me this has been a very fulfilling ministry, one that I enjoy and one where I feel that my gifts are being used for Kingdom purposes.

Biologos and the Integrate curriculum launch (this is the one where I got to meet Francis Collins!!!). We talked about our unforgettable trip to D.C. on Facebook, but I never wrote about it here. A few years ago, frustrated with the quality of homeschool science materials, I started googling. I found the Biologos site and their pilot program for Integrate, a program that seeks to integrate quality science with a Biblical worldview. The truth is, you don’t have to give up good science to be a Christian, and you don’t have to give up Christianity to be a scientist. I have always believed this. Faith and science don’t have to be at odds. In fact, some of my greatest moments of awe and worship happen when I study science.

I applied for the Integrate pilot program and began piloting sample modules with my older children. Later when the curriculum was published and Biologos decided to throw a launch party for it, they invited me to come be a part of it. I felt out of my depth – nearly everyone there was a PhD scientist, and I was just this little homeschool mom with a stale bachelor’s degree in engineering. I can’t tell you what it did for my soul to be invited to spend time with this special group of people. For so long I have felt so alone. I couldn’t bond over a shared love of science with my Christian community, and I couldn’t relate to non-believing scientists on the deepest levels of reality. I was always hiding a part of me. But when I was with the Biologos people, I didn’t feel I had to hide anything. All parts of me were welcomed and accepted. And when we sang the Doxology together, I cried. I felt at home with them, even if for just a little while.

(Bonus: I’m heading to a homeschool convention in July to support the Biologos booth. I’m so excited!)

(Bonus to the Bonus: I might even get to meet Susan Wise Bauer at this convention.)

SPIRITUALITY

College Heights Christian Church – especially the New Creation Sunday School class. The believers in this class showed me that you can be faithful to the Scriptures without being corrupted by MAGA nationalism. They have restored my faith in the people of God, and I will be forever grateful for that.

My spiritual life really suffered over the last two years. When we returned to the U.S., I looked on in horror as American Christianity became infected with MAGA idolatry. I questioned everything I had ever known. It’s not like I hadn’t questioned things before. I had. I’d had plenty of faith crises in my life (and I’d written about them publicly), but this felt entirely different. Had I devoted my life to a religious movement that was only ever masquerading as biblical Christianity but was actually founded on an insidious quest for political power? I wasn’t sure I wanted my name associated with this political movement. It was some of the most profound pain I have ever experienced.

Today, I still believe Christianity is true – when it is unfettered by the base desire for power. In many ways it was the people at this local church who helped me believe it was possible to uncouple Christianity from power-hungry political movements.

But in addition to restoring my faith in faith, these people have welcomed us into their family. I felt very bruised and battered after losing Cambodia so suddenly and unexpectedly. Cambodia was my whole life. I’d never wanted that life, but after a few years, I fell in love. I didn’t know how to live without it. These people have gently taken care of our needs and showed me how to belong again.

After 20 years of sitting separately from my husband in church, it has been a relief to sit in the back row with my whole family and just be. No need to volunteer or minister to anyone. Just rest and recover. At the same time, it’s comforting to know that, when I’m ready, our church family has plenty of ministry opportunities for me to take part in. It’s a good place to be. (Oh, and the youth group has been great for our kids!)

LIFE

My house. A year and a half after signing the papers, I still can’t believe I got this amazing house. The yard, which is always wonderful, is especially beautiful right now. I have my own office. I have my own workout room. I have my own bathroom (this wasn’t always true in Cambodia). And due to multiple small miracles, we can actually afford this house, even in this tight economy.

My husband. He is still my best friend, and after 22 years I am more in love with him than I have ever been. We have two standing date nights a week. (Note: Date night doesn’t mean you have to spend money, although we sometimes do. Date night can be a walk in the neighborhood and coffee on the porch).

Years 18 to 21 were a strain on us. I had multiple health problems which interfered with our marriage; we repatriated unexpectedly to the States in the middle of a pandemic; and we self-isolated for longer than most to protect Jonathan’s health, which led to painful social isolation. Add in a faith crisis, and well, those were hard years. But we have found ourselves and found each other again since settling in this house, and marriage is good.

My self. When I look back over this list, I realize that some of the things I’ve done or am doing are about finding myself again. You change when you live overseas for a long period of time. You can’t help it. And when you come back, you’re different. You don’t know exactly where you fit, and you don’t know exactly who you are. For instance, I found that being an overseas missionary had become wedded to my identity in a way I hadn’t expected (especially since I never wanted to go in the first place!). Losing the expat life was a big loss and a big shift in my identity that I had to grapple with.

I think some of the items in this Favorite Things post have been about trying to find my place in my new life, about trying to figure out who Elizabeth Trotter is in this context. I was so unhappy for so long. It took me 12 months to truly accept that this was my new life, and 18 months to truly love it. So I feel like celebrating the seemingly little things that have helped me on my journey to love my new life in Joplin, MO. In the end, I think that’s really what this article was about.

I’m Going to Grad School!

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So here’s an announcement and a request…

ANNOUNCEMENT

I’m very happy to announce that I’ve been accepted into the MA in Clinical Mental Health Counseling program at Colorado Christian University. It’s a two-and-a-half-year program that’ll start in July. It’s mostly online and is designed for folks with full-time jobs, which is handy.

This feels like the next step in responding to God’s call on my life to “see the hearts of the hurting.” In fact, during our first year in Cambodia I attended a leadership conference and felt like God clearly pressed upon me the image of a bridge built on two pillars. The top of the bridge, the overarching call on my life, was the growth and health of the global church. The two pillars upon which that calling would rest? Discipling young people and heart-focused pastoral counseling. Those core ideas have been on my office wall for nearly ten years now.

Since this grad program is designed for adult learners with full-time jobs, I plan to continue serving with Team Expansion in exactly the same capacity, providing pastoral care and empathetic coaching to missionaries all over the world.

Starting years ago at Living Well in Cambodia, both of my counseling supervisors repeatedly encouraged me to look into a step like this. They both told me: “Your forties are the perfect time to get a masters in counseling. You should go for it.” They both had. 😊

I’ve spent thousands of hours over the last eight years sitting with hundreds of clients from around the world, and my deep hope is that this program will equip me to serve them with more skill, more resources, and more knowledge.

An MA degree will also open the door for possible teaching at the college level at some point in the future (missions and/or counseling). I hope to write more in the future too, exploring the blessings the church can bring when we walk alongside of those who are hurting, and contrasting that with the tremendous damage that can be done when we fail to understand trauma, abuse, grief, and deep emotional pain.

REQUEST

Like many companies and churches, our missions agency provides an educational reimbursement fringe benefit up to $5,000 per year. This is fantastic and could be extremely helpful! However, because Team Expansion is a missions agency, and because we serve in a support-based position, we have to raise our own benefits.

This isn’t a new concept, but it is a bit unique: we won’t get the benefit if we don’t raise it.

We don’t know exactly how we’re going to pay for grad school. We do know that we’re not going to use funds that our regular supporters have given to the general ministry fund. What we can do, however, is invite you to consider giving especially for this educational need.

If you’ve been blessed over the years by our writings or pastoral counseling ministry, or if you’d like to support this preparation for future ministry, would you consider giving? Team Expansion has taught us to invite boldly, so here we are. Just put “education” in the notes section of our giving page.

We couldn’t have gotten this far without y’all, and we can’t get a whole lot farther without y’all. If you have any questions, please let me know.

In the meantime, we’re going to keep trying to “follow close” behind Him, serving missionaries and cross-cultural workers around the world, equipping them to see the hearts of the hurting people around them, for his glory and for the growth and health of the global Kingdom.

All for ONE,

Jonathan T.

Politics, Plumeria, and the Kingdom of Heaven

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“I miss Ima,” my daughter tells me. “I miss her singing, and I miss her flowers.”

Ima was one of the best worship leaders I’ve ever known, and I’m so glad our paths crossed at an international church in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

Originally from the islands of Fiji, Ima always led worship with a tropical flower in her hair. Usually, she chose a frangipani (plumeria), the bright yellow satiny flower that smells like the most luscious citrus dessert and is the mainstay of Hawaiian leis.

Cambodia has a tropical climate and wonderful people, but even so, the country has suffered much as a result of war, genocide, and corruption. Cambodia is not a tropical paradise, but the church is growing, and Ima is helping.

With her global team she led our global church. Typically, she shared the stage with a Filipino on keys, a Pakistani on percussion, an Australian on guitar, and a Malaysian on drums. Together, they helped lead a rag tag group of Jesus followers from over 30 nations in worship. They helped us declare, week after week, the hope of the cross and the certainty of God.

Our church was full of missionaries and businesspeople, those involved in anti-human trafficking work, and those serving in the relief and development sector. Many of us came to church on Sundays tired, exhausted, and poured out. We traveled by motos and tuk tuks, buses and cars, to be reminded of our Hope. We came to drink of Life, and we came to declare the death and resurrection of our Lord, until he comes again.

I hadn’t grown up in a church like this. I hadn’t grown up in a church with pastors from China, New Zealand, the Philippines, India, Canada, Cambodia, and the United States.

I thought the church was primarily American.

I mean, I didn’t really think that; it’s just that growing up in the Midwest in a standard evangelical church, the church just was pretty American. And Caucasian too. Our authors were American, our musicians were American, everyone was American.

Typically, the only non-American folks I ever came across were the ones we were sending missionaries to. We were the ones sending the gospel, and they were the ones receiving it.

As believers in America we’re taught, often accidentally, that to be a Christian is to be American, or at least to look like it. Even if not purposeful or intentionally racist, the trickle-down effect of this theology is dangerous and thieving, denying us connection to the breadth and depth of the global church.

But here was Ima, a Fijian woman, singing the gospel with power. She was pouring her heart out in prayer, and she was ushering a global community into the throne room of God. The Kenyan sister was dancing, the Samoan brother was singing, and the Australian guy was jumping up and down with a huge smile.

The global church was so much more beautiful and diverse than I had ever known. Christ’s people had come from all over the place, they were going all over the place, and they were worshiping.

I love the American church. But I’m afraid that somewhere in our history, we began to believe that we Americans held the keys to the Kingdom. We would never say it like that, but we sometimes act like that.

So long ago, our spiritual forefathers rightly declared that Rome was not the central hub of global Christianity. But I’m afraid we’ve drifted into our own hubris and begun to believe that the American church is the hub, the main gospel force in the world. It is not.

That vision is too small. That church is too claustrophobic.

I want to be brothers with the Swiss guy who runs a climbing gym in Cambodia. I want to serve alongside a Chinese businessman who converted himself (as far as that is possible) by picking up a Bible someone left behind in a hotel room in Nepal.

I want to rejoice with the Pakistani couple who opened their hearts and kitchen to us, telling stories of the faithfulness of God and how they escaped to safety. The unique flavor of homecooked samosas will always remind us of our friends’ faith and our Father’s faithfulness.

I want to honor the Japanese man providing care and education to disabled Cambodians. I want to join in with Cambodian pastors who continue to teach God’s word to God’s people in difficult times and challenging places.

Christ is the King, and his church is global.

We must remember: the church existed before America.

We must remember: the church will endure long after America.

We must remember: the church is older than Western civilization.

The church is global, and she is not dying.

And while the church is global, the gospel always gets worked out locally. That’s the beauty of it. The church can be local precisely because it’s so stunningly global. The church is big enough to be local everywhere.

As citizens of America, we should celebrate and honor and cherish the church in the United States. She remains beloved and part of the Bride. But as citizens of the Kingdom, we should celebrate and cherish and love the global Church too, wherever she may be found.

A Fijian worship leader with a flower in her hair helped me learn that.

When I finally get home and meet Jesus face to face, I will not be surprised at all if he bellows out the Fijian greeting: “BULA!” which means, “Life to you!” I hope to hear him say on that day, “Welcome home, my son. Here is the life you’ve been searching for! Well done.”

And then I will wander.

I will find a frangipani tree. I will inhale its cheerful citrus fragrance, I will smile, and I will look out on the nations that God has brought together, and I will declare, “This looks familiar; look at what the Lord has done!”

And then I will find Ima, and I will thank her for what she gave our church and what she gave my daughter. I will thank her for what she gave me. With her uniquely Fijian flair and a frangipani flower in her hair, week after week, she led God’s people to paradise.

When Depression Descends

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Author’s note: This article should not be used to diagnose or treat clinical depression. If you are having thoughts of hurting yourself or attempting suicide, please seek out a medical and/or mental health professional immediately, visit the Lifeline online, or call 1-800-273-8255 (U.S.). A list of international suicide prevention hotlines can be viewed here and here. — Jonathan

It feels like a leaden mantle descending over everything, blotting out the sun, joy, and the belief that there is anything good in the world. It leaves your feet bolted to the floor and your heart frozen in the empty void of black space.

It feels like liquid cement pouring into your body, heavy and thick, slowly solidifying, hardening, restricting movement. It feels like your chest is being crushed. Like a polio victim without an iron lung, desperately searching for the energy to overcome diaphragmatic paralysis. It feels like a suffocation.

It doesn’t always feel like sadness. It might look like incessant weeping, sure, but it just might look like staring at a blank wall for fifteen minutes. Unmoving.

Even if you’re a missionary. Even if you love your wife and kids. Even if you have enough money and love your job. Even if you have a fulfilling ministry, both on and offline. Even if you work with therapists and help pastor a church. Even if you love the Psalms and know about lament and have written extensively about emotional health. Even if you’ve studied depression and sat with suicidal clients (in a counseling center) and patients (in an ER). Even if.

Sometimes, it’s just there, and it is so terribly heavy.

I have been there. And still, after our unplanned transition back to America, our dislocation and eventual resettling, COVID-19, a dark winter, and political chaos, it still threatens. Occasionally I get a whiff of the darkness, and it turns my stomach sour.

If you’ve been there, if you’ve felt these things, please know this: you are not alone.

For me, at the scariest point, I started thinking about ending my life. I never developed a plan (which is a blaring warning sign, especially if the person has the means to carry out the plan), but I was ruminating more and more about death and dying, and it scared me tremendously.

I had started taking an occasional non-narcotic pain medication to help me sleep. In Cambodia, so many prescription medications do not require a prescription and are available in blister packs at the cash register. This can be handy, but it’s also very dangerous and should probably be the topic of a later essay. Anyways, we had neighbors on both sides of our row house that kept very late hours. On one side, it was drunk karaoke followed by the smashing and screaming of domestic violence. On the other side, it was a bit of a house-turned-warehouse where they repackaged boxes for local distribution – think screeching packing tape – until 1 or 2 am nightly. The packaging center was about three feet away from the head of our bed. The drunken abuse was about five feet from the foot of our bed. Bricks and a little plaster and tile were not enough. I wasn’t sleeping well, and I was getting more and more anxious and agitated.

So I started taking this medication.

Looking back, I think the spiritual, environmental, and psychological stresses brought me to the tipping point, and the medication nudged me over the edge.

Incentive to Hide

In any sort of Christian ministry, there can be an immense incentive to hide things like this. If the person who’s asking how you’re doing also has the power to fire you, relocate your family, or detach you, your spouse, and your kids from your church, school, and social support, well, honestly, that’s a ridiculous ask. (I’m not saying that’s a healthy dynamic, by the way, I’m just saying that it’s pretty typical in the missions world. Again, another essay for another time.)

But when it comes to depression, silence could be deadly. And while I certainly understand the reasons for hiding, hiding depression can lengthen your misery, shielding you from help and resources. Depression is very treatable once it’s identified.

Don’t hide, and please oh please don’t feel like you’re a failed Christian or a failed missionary just because you’re depressed. You’re not less than or anything of the sort; you just may need a little bit of extra support for a time.

I did.

I still do from time to time.

How to Respond: Tell Someone

I talked with a doctor. I’ll never forget the day he said, “You know, it’s a rare side effect, but it is a documented side effect of that particular medication.” I went home and threw those blister packs in the trash like they were filled with gecko poop and crawling with giant cockroaches.

I increased the frequency of meetings with two good friends, one of whom was a therapist and one of whom was a pastor. I broadened my support base. I changed my diet, reducing processed foods and sugar, increasing fruits and vegetables. I started exercising more.

If you’re not sure, but you think you might be depressed, please consult with your doctor and/or a mental health professional. Check out our resources page for mental health professionals in your area. You do not have to do this alone.

There are so many resources available, and there are so many treatment modalities that are proven to help (talk therapy, medications, lifestyle changes, etc.). You do not have to do this alone.

NOTE: If someone hears your story and tells you that you just need to try harder or read your Bible more or root out the sin in your life or be more disciplined or some such nonsense, please smile and nod, turn around, and run the other direction towards someone who will give you good advice. Because that person’s not.

How to Respond: Educate Yourself

Sometimes, the depression’s so thick that you don’t have it in you to do any sort of online research or reading. That’s ok. If that’s where you’re at, reach out to someone and skip this part.

But if you can and if you want to, remember that you have access to a whole host of online resources. I typically turn to the Mayo Clinic or the Cleveland Clinic for medically accurate information that’s written for non-medical folks. Read their information on depression here and here and chronic depression (over two years) here and here.

The NHS has a short depression self-assessment tool that might also be a helpful place to start.

And now, please don’t laugh, but I REALLY appreciated the material in the book Cognitive Behavioural Therapy for Dummies, by Rhena Branch and Rob Willson. Their section on depression has been immensely helpful for me and several friends. Check it out.

Additional Resources

This is the first time I’ve written so explicitly about depression. Here are some musings (and a sermon/podcast) about related things, like Grief, C.S. Lewis and the Deeper Magic, and Hope.

Remember, you are not alone. The promises are true.

You are not alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the Mayo Clinic: When to get emergency help

If you think you may hurt yourself or attempt suicide, call 911 or your local emergency number immediately.

Also consider these options if you’re having suicidal thoughts:

  • Call your doctor or mental health professional.
  • Call a suicide hotline number — in the U.S., call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255). Use that same number and press “1” to reach the Veterans Crisis Line. [Visit their website here.]
  • Reach out to a close friend or loved one.
  • Contact a minister, spiritual leader or someone else in your faith community.

If you have a loved one who is in danger of suicide or has made a suicide attempt, make sure someone stays with that person. Call 911 or your local emergency number immediately. Or, if you think you can do so safely, take the person to the nearest hospital emergency room.

Team Christmas | Postcards from Re-entry

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by Elizabeth

One of my favorite parts about Christmas in Cambodia was the lack of commercialism. I particularly remember our first Christmas there. We took our children to the Russian Market (Tuol Tom Poung) and gave them each $5 to pick out presents for their siblings. Then we went home and took turns wrapping each other’s presents.

On Christmas morning the children opened their presents. They were thrilled with the simple gifts they’d been given. And watching their collective joy was a gift to me. With no cultural cues that they needed a multitude of expensive presents, they were satisfied with small things.

My other favorite part about Christmas in Cambodia was celebrating it with our team. With no extended family nearby, expats must forge their own on-field family. Early on, I had realized that my children would never experience the type of large extended family I had grown up with — dozens of cousins, aunts, and uncles who gather at Grandma and Grandpa’s house on holidays. And I grieved over that.

But every Christmas we celebrated with teammates. I watched as our children interacted with teammates like they were cousins, aunts, and uncles — and my heart healed a little. My children were going to experience something similar to my childhood; they just weren’t related to these people.

Truly, teammates are like family. They take care of you when you are in need, you spend holidays with them, and sometimes you even fight with them. Our first Thanksgiving in Cambodia involved both sickness and caretaking: our children had contracted hand, foot, and mouth disease, and we were all quarantining at home. Teammates brought us holiday-themed food to cheer us up; at least we could celebrate in isolation.

The experience of Team Christmas was a cornerstone of life on the field, and it was something I particularly missed during Christmas 2020.

Christmas 2021 was different. Some of our old teammates have also repatriated, and they were traveling through our hometown the week before Christmas. They stopped and spent the weekend with us. We used to have regular game nights with them. I went out with the wife every few months in Cambodia, and she and I have done nearly all the Velvet Ashes retreats together (although we’ve had to switch to retreating virtually since moving back to the States).

It had been over two years since we’d seen them in person, since we had farewelled them at the Phnom Penh International Airport. And it was good. We played games. We talked about all the things. And we began a new tradition: gingerbread house competition. We enjoyed it so much we’ve decided to do it again next year.

We hit a cold snap that weekend, and I froze. This was a major departure from Christmas in Cambodia, where it was always hot and sweaty. Thankfully Joplin weather warmed up nicely for Christmas Day.

Today is the twelfth day of Christmas, and I guess I didn’t want to say goodbye to Christmastide without honoring my relationships with teammates, both on and off the field. The years were good, and the years were hard, but the holidays were made sweeter by the presence of good friends. I’m grateful I could experience that sweetness once again in 2021.