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Anger, Anxiety, Depression, Healing, Relationships, Words of Endurance

Dealing With Your Own Anger

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May 3, 2011

- Anger, Anxiety, Depression, Healing, Relationships, Words of Endurance

Don’t let the sun go down while you are still angry,
for anger gives a foothold to the devil.
EPHESIANS 4:26-27



While Dave outwardly expressed his anger, I stuffed mine and I never dealt with it. Neither action (his or mine) is God’s way of dealing with anger. Both result in sin – for Dave sin against others – for me sin against myself. One of my major mistakes was to deny my anger and keep it inside. I never felt I had the right to be angry. I didn’t share my hurts, fears or frustrations and the resulting anger with anyone because I did not feel it was the Christian thing to do.



Unfortunately, the end results of letting the sun go down on your anger and turning that anger inward, is depression. And when I did end up depressed fortunately I started seeing a Christian Psychologist, Dr. Sommers.



Upon my first visit with him, he was initially getting to know me, asking general questions about how I approached different situations. I had read enough counseling books to be a little smug in my understanding of the terminology and savvy about giving the answers I thought would be the right ones.



He said, “Tell me Jan how you deal with confronting people when that becomes necessary.” “Oh, I’m good at confrontation,” I assured him.


“Really,” Dr. Sommers said, nodding me on. “Give me an example of a time you needed to confront someone and how you did it.”


“Well, I can’t think of a particular example but I do it all the time because I am a peacemaker. Whenever anyone is mad at me or displeased with me, I go to him or her immediately to make it right. I ask them what I did to make them angry then I correct the problem, whatever it is.”


His expression clouded over. “Okay, but what do you do to confront someone when you are angry or you are the one who has been wronged?”


“Well …” I paused because I was stunned by the question. I had never even considered confronting anyone who hurt or mistreated me. “I don’t do anything – I stuff it. I find it pretty easy to swallow it and that way no one is hurt.”


“Jan,” Dr. Sommers said gently, “you are not confronting in a healthy way when you rush after anyone who is displeased with you to find out what you must do to keep that person from being mad at you. A big difference exists between placating someone and being a peacemaker. You need to learn how to live honestly with others, not just do whatever they want so they don’t get mad at you.”


He continued, “Also, ignoring situations where you have been wronged because you want to ‘keep the peace’ reveals a problem. No, you won’t hurt others but stuffing your anger will hurt you – in fact it already has.”



I sat there stunned. This was an area of my life that I thought was fine. Now, in light of what his questions revealed, I suddenly realized I needed to be aware of my own feelings and needs without feeling selfish. I also needed to reevaluate the patterns that I had set in all my relationships and find new healthy ways to respond.



The understanding I gained set me free to see situations differently and I responded differently. Now because I am more aware of my emotions, if I’ve been wronged or sinned against by someone, I go to the person as Scripture tells us to in Matthew 18:15-17.



I still have to swallow hard (it will never be easy for me) before confronting those who might get mad at me or retreat from me. I will always need an extra dose of courage when I confront but at least I realize confrontation is necessary at times to keep my relationships and me healthy, balanced and honest.



And finally I learned that I had always prided myself on my graciousness shown in overlooking wrongs against me. I saw my placating and people-pleasing-at-all-costs kind of behavior as a Godly virtue when it really wasn’t. Only when I was weakened by depression, could I see my life in His light and take steps under His direction on the path that He taught me so that I could heal.



Show me your ways, LORD, teach me your paths.
Guide me in your truth and teach me,
for you are God my Savior,
and my hope is in you all day long.
PSALM 25:4-5



On the journey with you,
Jan Dravecky

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Depression, Grief, Pain, When Cancer Comes Home, Words of Endurance

The Forgotten Spouse

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April 2, 2011

- Depression, Grief, Pain, When Cancer Comes Home, Words of Endurance

The Bible describes a married couple as becoming “one flesh” (see Genesis 2:24). And the union that marriage brings is felt keenly when one has to battle cancer. Although only one of the members of that union may be diagnosed with the dis-ease, both are profoundly affected by it. In fact, many cancer patients say that the cancer battle is actually more difficult for their well spouse. One patient said, “My wife has suffered more than I have. She is the one who has had to deal with the issues of life and the ramifications of my illness. I have been too busy fighting the disease to deal with anything else.”



Yet while the cancer battle rages, the needs of the well spouse are often overlooked. And those needs are great. When one spouse is diagnosed with cancer, the scales of responsibility tip heavily in the well spouse’s direction. The well spouse runs from home front to battlefront offering updates, providing moral support, and stocking both fronts with necessary supplies.



Comfortable and secure daily routines are upended for everyone in the family, particularly the well spouse. The wife who stayed home to care for her family may find herself struggling to adjust to her new role as sole provider. She may feel guilty over her inability to “be there” for her children. The husband whose wife has handled most of the household and family responsibilities suddenly finds his orderly and efficient home in chaos. He struggles to balance career, household duties, and family activities.



Even more unsettling are the sudden, dramatic changes that occur in the couple’s relationship. The primary caregiver in the family may become the care receiver. The breadwinner may be unable to work and may watch helplessly as the well spouse increases the workload in order to make ends meet. In addition to role changes, the well spouse must carry the additional load of routine tasks that the sick spouse can no longer manage. The relational stresses that these adjustments bring are significant—even when circumstances are ideal. Imagine going through them under cancer’s looming shadow!



So it’s not uncommon for a well spouse to feel utterly overwhelmed and totally alone. If you find yourself in this situation, it’s important to realize that your feelings of inadequacy are not due to weakness or lack of character—the reality is, your life has been turned upside down. Furthermore, much of what you face you face alone. Your spouse is often unable to provide adequate support and most people around you don’t realize the burden you carry.



But you are not alone. Many other husbands and wives walk the same lonely, difficult road. They, too, are weighted down by a similar burden. At the Outreach of Hope, we hear the anguish of your hearts:

We can’t talk about my fears. She has her own. And if we combined our fears, the emotional weight would bury us alive.
We never talk about the little things anymore. There are too many big things clamoring for our time and attention.
We haven’t held each other for so long. Our time is totally consumed with treatment schedules, trips to the pharmacy, insurance paperwork, and trying to juggle our dwindling resources.
I feel so selfish if I share my needs. They can’t begin to compare with her daily struggle of treatment, its side effects, and the emotional and spiritual weight of her cancer battle.



It’s confusing, frightening, and exhausting to be the well spouse. As the main support person for the family, the well spouse often “runs on empty”—meet-ing everyone’s needs but his or her own. They may deny their own pain or the severity of their condition in order to keep from adding more stress to an already stressful situation. But just as the deposit/withdrawal principle applies to a bank account, it applies to our emotional, physical, and spiritual health. When a well spouse neglects taking time for rest, reflection, or refreshment, the account will eventually be overdrawn, putting the well spouse at risk for illness or depression. While others focus their attention on the battlefront—on the cancer patient—the needs of the well spouse remain unnoticed and unmet. But when the well spouse suffers, everyone in the family suffers.



So those who would be encouragers to a family or couple suffering under cancer’s attack would do well to step back from the battlefront and notice the weary soul behind the action. As one cancer patient said, “People always call and want to know how I am doing. But I want them to ask my wife how she is doing. I want someone to worry and fuss over her. That’s the best thing they can do for me.”

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Anger, Cancer, Depression, When Cancer Comes Home, Words of Endurance

All in the Family

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March 27, 2011

- Anger, Cancer, Depression, When Cancer Comes Home, Words of Endurance

And if one member suffers,
all the members suffer with it…
The apostle Paul referring to the family of Christ in 1 Corinthians 12:26





Many people know that I had cancer, but many people don’t know that although I was a patient, I wasn’t the only one who suffered. My whole family battled cancer. Not one of us escaped its grasp.



When cancer comes home, every member of the family is launched on a new and challenging journey. Nobody knows quite what to do. Jan and I didn’t know what to do. We bumbled our way through it. We handled some things remarkably well, but in other ways we fell flat on our faces.



From the very beginning, we were totally honest with our children. That was good. It was also scary, especially when amputation became necessary. You see, our six-year-old son Jonathan was afraid of people who had physical handicaps. If he saw a child who was deformed, he panicked. He ran away from children in wheelchairs. Although we did our best to prepare him for the amputation of my arm by telling him the truth, answering his questions, and addressing his fears, we didn’t know how he would respond.



When I came home following the amputation, Jonathan stared at me for a long time. Then he ran outside and gathered up his friends. They called me into the garage and Jonathan said, “Dad, take off your shirt. Show ’em where they cut your arm off.” So I did. They all looked at the fresh wound and said, “Oh, gross!” then they ran outside to play. That was how Jonathan broke the ice and began accepting what had happened to me. Today he no longer fears physical handicaps. Instead, a deep compassion for those who suffer has been built into his character.



I wish I could say that Jan and I handed cancer as a couple as well as we did with our children, but we didn’t. Just as intense heat brings the impurities in gold ore to the surface, the pressure of cancer brings a couple’s flaws and impurities into the open. Jan describes that time best: “For a time, Dave was angry. Although I knew his heart and didn’t lack love for him, I didn’t like seeing that ugly side of him. And I didn’t handle my role as caretaker well. I ended up depressed, burned out, and guilt-ridden. At the time my husband really needed me, I fell apart. My weakness was frustrating to both of us.” Despite our unfailing commitment to one another, we fell apart to the point that my parents needed to come into our home and care for us for six weeks because Jan and I had become incapable of doing it ourselves.



We don’t know exactly what you face on your cancer journey because every individual and family responds to the demands of cancer in their own way. But we do know that cancer is difficult for everyone in the family and that each member’s response has a dramatic impact on the other members. Some people are able to pull together and work through the process. They don’t experience the same things Jan and I experienced. Other families are just like us and have to deal with difficult, often ugly, issues. And in some families, the crisis is so great that the marriage doesn’t survive.



We certainly don’t have all the answers. We don’t offer a formula of dos and don’ts when cancer comes home. But we are willing to share a glimpse of our cancer experience and the experiences of others in the hope that it will encourage you and help you press on and endure the journey as a family. You are not alone in dealing with these issues. Many other families, through loving acceptance of one another and open, honest communication, are learning how to deal with cancer when it comes home.

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Depression, Grief, Loss, Who Am I Now, Words of Endurance

Facing the Pain of Our Losses

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February 6, 2011

- Depression, Grief, Loss, Who Am I Now, Words of Endurance

The only way to heal from the pain of losses suffered is to go through the pain. There’s no way around it. We can stuff it. We can dodge it. But eventually, we will have to face it.
Jan Dravecky



From our earliest days of life, we humans avoid pain. We pull our inquisitive fingers away from the hot stove. We avoid fights with the schoolyard bully. We wear seatbelts, kneepads, and helmets. We don’t run with scissors. We quickly learn that some pain is avoidable, and we conveniently conclude that all pain is (or should be) avoidable.



Unfortunatley, our conclusion is false. When the winds of adversity wreak havoc on our lives, loss and pain will result. What do we do when the pain and loss mounts up? Being the pain-avoiders that we are, we sometimes refuse to deal with it; we try to run away. Some of our favorite strategies are to get busy, get around it, or get numb. Consider for a moment how these strategies play out in the aftermath of suffering.



Get Busy
After her mother’s death, Jan Dravecky quickly shifted into high gear. She arranged the service, cared for the family, and tried to help her father adjust to widowhood. Three weeks after the service, Jan broke down and cried, but her sorrow was short-lived. Her father quickly reminded her that her mother always wanted her to be happy. “I knew he was right,” Jan admits. “Mother always managed to steer me around any sadness, so I stuffed the pain back down. I did what a lot of people do: I go busy.”



Following the amputation of his arm, Dave Dravecky “got busy” too. Instead of focusing on his own loss, he spent five days walking from room to room in the cancer ward encouraging other patients. On the surface he was serving others, but “deep down inside of me there were issues I simply didn’t want to face.” It wasn’t a conscious deception, but Dave now realizes that when he was involved in others people’s lives, it was easier to set aside his own struggles.



Get Around It
Denial is a common coping mechanism by which we behave, think, or feel as if some reality about us simply isn’t true. Denial takes an eraser to our loss so we can avoid its impact on our lives. Denial can serve a positive purpose in the early days of a devastating loss because it enables us to begin facing our loss in bite-size chunks rather than as an overwhelming whole. The problem is, it’s tempting to stay in denial.



Cancer survivor and psychologist Dr. Ari Shreffler knew the truth about denial from a professional perspective, but when the application turned personal, she struggled just like anyone else. Dr. Shreffler was married to a phenomenal, compassionate, Christian psychologist. Unfortunately, the husband of one of his patients became enraged when the doctor encouraged his patient to leave the couple’s drug-addicted lifestyle. Without warning, the deranged man barged into the Shreffler home. He shot and killed Ari’s husband and their two sons. Then he shot Ari seven times and left her for dead. As a mental health professional, Dr. Shreffler knew she needed to face the devastating loss of her family, yet it took eight and a half years to deal with the loss. “Even with all the counseling experience I had and all the degrees on my wall, I buried my pain.”



Get Numb
Dr. Shreffler had help burying her pain. The deadly assault on her family left her without a bladder and without the use of her legs. The unrelenting pain of her wounds required “mega doses of morphine” for the first eight years after the shooting. The medication masked her physical pain, but it also masked her emotional pain.



Masking pain is one way we avoid dealing with our losses. While it may work initially, masking our pain creates more problems in the long run. Many people get trapped in various types of addiction disease because we “self-medicate,” meaning we consume as much of our chosen numbing agent (drugs, alcohol, food, work, etc.) as we need to numb ourselves to the presence of our pain. That is one reason alcoholism and drug dependence are such widespread health problems.



Our instinctive tendency to avoid pain has serious long-term consequences if we choose to continue avoiding it rather than dealing with its source. Psychologist John Townsend, in his book Hiding from Love, cautions that when we run from our pain, “what needs attention or repair in our hearts goes neglected. And what is broken gets more broken over time.” When we ran, when we bury our pain, we begin a downward spiral – from initial pain to woundedness, to retreat, isolation, depression, spiritual apathy, and much greater pain.



Gerald Sittser, who lost his mother, wife, and daughter in a tragic car accident, was so overcome by anguish and emptiness that he wanted to run and keep running. But in his book, A Grace Disguised, he describes how he was compelled to face his losses: “Since I knew that the darkness was inevitable and unavoidable, I decided…to walk into the darkness rather than try to outrun it, to let my experience of loss take me on a journey wherever it would lead, and to allow myself to be transformed by my suffering rather than to think I could somehow avoid it.”



That is a truth recent widow Sally DeRue is discovering day by day. “Some days the loss is totally overwhelming. I have to just go with it. If I feel like crying, I cry. If I feel like going to sleep, I sleep. From my own knowledge and from reading books on griefs and loss, I know that the worst thing a person can do is to deny those feelings. They don’t feel good, but the sooner you acknowledge the pain, the sooner you get over it. When you acknowledge it, the pain doesn’t last as long. When you stuff it, it lasts longer.”



Facing the pain of loss is never easy. If it were easy, we wouldn’t run. The loving support of family, friends, and often pastors and counselors can help us face overwhelming pain. But more important, we need a guide, an escort, who will never leave us alone in the darkness of our loss. That guide is Jesus. Described in Scripture as “a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering,” He has walked through darkness in human form. He promises to never leave us no matter how deep the darkness, no matter how overwhelming our pain. Gerald Sittser, Like many others who seek Him as they journey into the darkness, discovered that He is true to His promise. “Darkness,” he writes, “had invaded my soul. But then again, so had light.”



When you acknowledge it, the pain doesn’t last as long. When you stuff it, it lasts longer.
Sally Dereu

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Anger, Articles, Depression, Words of Endurance

Endurance Through Depression

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February 2, 2011

- Anger, Articles, Depression, Words of Endurance

by Jan Dravecky



My anger at God grew into rage. I shook my fist and screamed, “I can’t feel you, I can’t see you, I can’t sense you, I don’t even know if you exist anymore. And if you do exist, why aren’t you helping me?” That’s how I felt after my husband Dave’s cancer returned in May 1990. I was absolutely exhausted and so depressed that I couldn’t leave the house. I looked for strength and comfort in the words of the Bible. But I did so with a heavy heart, as if scavenging for scraps of hope I didn’t really expect to find. I prayed I would soon return to my normal self, but things got worse. When Dave had surgery to remove the tumor in his arm, the doctor found more cancer. It was only a matter of time before Dave would lose his arm. One afternoon our kids came begging me to take them for a swim. I could see how much they wanted me to go with them, but I was numb. I couldn’t move. So Dave, who was suffering the effects of radiation treatments, took the kids to the pool without me. Something inside me snapped: “I can’t even go to the stinkin’ pool with my kids!” I was incapable of carrying one more burden or doing one more task, much less feeling joy in anything.



Provision of Time


Clinical depression often triggers a downward spiral. In my case, fellow Christians didn’t understand why I couldn’t “snap out of it” by praying or confessing my sin. But there’s no easy answer. God never said there would be. The truth is: suffering isn’t pretty. So how does a person endure through depression? Even though I couldn’t feel God’s presence, I kept turning to the Bible. I was desperate to reconnect with the One who had claimed me as His own and had promised to never let me go. Five years passed before I finally made it through that dark season. Looking back, I’ve learned that it takes time. Even with encouragement from the Bible. Even with counseling and treatment. And even if you have a friend who lets you honestly express your feelings without spiritualizing or sugar-coating them. Those things can eventually bring healing, but the seeds of endurance are buried deep under the surface. And it takes time for tender stems to push their way up out of the darkness—and even more time for joy to reach full bloom. I share my story so that others who struggle with depression will know that they are not alone and that they, too, can find the patience to endure.

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Depression, Doubt, Trust, Who Am I Now, Words of Endurance

Who Am I When It Seems God Has Forgotten Me?

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January 30, 2011

- Depression, Doubt, Trust, Who Am I Now, Words of Endurance

For more than a decade he was Tom the fireman. Then his wife got a new job that required their family to move more than a thousand miles away. Tom had no doubt that it was God’s plan for his wife to take the new job, so he trusted God to work out the details of his job.



But firemen don’t transfer, so it wasn’t easy to get a new job. Openings were few and far between. Even experienced applicants had to test for every job. Weeks, months, then years passed. Tom the fireman became Tom the waiting man, then Tom the mechanic, then Tom the construction man, then Tom the depressed man.



Tome knew God had a plan for his life, fireman or not. But not seeing that plan work out as he welded steel in the snow day after day took its toll. Although he knew better, Tom felt as if God had forgotten him.



Urged on by his wife and close friends, Tom began to explore his troubling feelings. He knew intellectually that he was God’s child, but he felt abandoned and lost. As he honestly expressed painful feelings to his wife and friends, their loving and supportive responses reminded Tom that God hadn’t forgotten him. He began to see that the love of his wife and friends was an expression of God’s love for him. He realized that although he had lost God in the fog or depression, God hadn’t lost him. He was an always would be God’s child.

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Depression, Loss, Love, Who Am I Now, Words of Endurance

When a Friend Suffer a Loss of Identity

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January 18, 2011

- Depression, Loss, Love, Who Am I Now, Words of Endurance

Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.
Isaiah 40:1



When we face a loss of identity, we don’t need someone to give us a list of “right things to do.” Instead, we need a friend with a gracious and understanding heart who can say, “I care for you and accept you where you are today. I’m not here to ‘fix’ you, but I do want to comfort and encourage you as you journey through this place of sadness.” The principles below remind us of the heart attitudes that can help comfort a hurting friend.



Minimize Minimizing. One of the most frustrating experiences is to be with a person who downplays loss, minimizes pain, or ignores it altogether. Peggy Skattebo, who faced her own grief and loss of identity during her husband’s cancer battle, expressed the feelings of many when she said, “There were times I just wanted to scream out, “Can’t anybody see how difficult this is for me?'”



Listen, Just Listen. After his amputation, Dave Dravecky says he “gravitated toward people who were good listeners.” For someone who faces a serious loss, such as a loss of identity, it means so much when “somebody just sits there and listens without trying to give an answer or fixing how you feel. There is so much comfort when they just accept what you have to say and let you lay it out there on the table.” Be careful not to judge your friend’s feelings or expression of emotion. It is a privilege that your friend trusts you enough to be emotionally vulnerable and honest with you.



Tons of Time. Passersby on a city street corner were recently asked how long it takes to grieve the loss of a loved one. Their answer? Two weeks! No wonder those who face grief and loss feel alone. Our society doesn’t understand the pain of working through the death of a loved one, much less the pain of dealing with other significant losses in life. So give your friend time to work through the losses of a changing identity. If your friend gets stuck in a particular aspect of the loss, it may be appropriate to suggest counseling, but resist the urge to become impatient with the grieving process.



Be a Prepared Participant. The journey through loss takes many twists and turns, so it’s helpful to understand what the process may look like. After the initial shock, most people experience emotional numbness, confusion, anger, and physical problems such as headaches or abdominal ailments. They may also experience depression, apathy, decreased memory and cognitive function, and feelings of despair. To make matters more interesting, your friend may exhibit all of these symptoms in the span of an hour! It can be helpful to talk with others who are farther down the road in dealing with a similar loss so that you can better understand what your friend may be facing.



Forget Fixing. Resist the urge to offer solutions. Trying to “fix” the pain of another person’s loss is really trying to meet our own need for closure or relief. There is no magic solution to wipe away the pain of loss. Pain dissipates as it is felt, as tears are shed, as adjustments are made, as we allow God to heal us. It is a tremendous blessing to have a comforting friend through this process. It is helpful to remember that Isaiah 40:1 doesn’t say, “Fix, fix my people.” It says, “Comfort, comfort my people.”



For suggestions on helping a friend who is hurting, we recommend Stand by Me, by Dave and Jan Dravecky.

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Articles, Depression

Helping A Friend Who Is Battling Depression

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January 14, 2011

- Articles, Depression

Practical Support


The most important practical thing you can do for a friend who may be depressed is to help him or her get both a medical and a counseling evaluation to create a treatment plan. The sooner treatment is started, the sooner the depression will be relieved. You can also help your friend in the recovery process. Here are some suggestions.


  • Encourage your friend to complete the entire course of treatment (counseling, medication, etc.). Many people battling with depression want to quit treatment when their symptoms begin to improve. However, stopping treatment prematurely can result in a worsening of symptoms and a longer recovery.
  • If your friend’s symptoms aren’t improving after a few weeks, encourage him or her to consult their physician and/or counselor again as treatment plans often need to be adjusted, especially if the plan includes medication.
  • If your friend is struggling to keep treatment appointments, offer to accompany him or her.



Emotional Support


You can also offer your friend much needed emotional support. Here are some suggestions.


  • Learn about depression so you are better able to understand what your friend is experiencing, why he or she may be reacting in certain ways and what to expect while your friend is in treatment.
  • It’s okay to ask someone who is battling depression how they are feeling. However, if you ask, stick around to really listen. Your friend needs to know that you aren’t just asking out of courtesy but that you really care about how he or she is doing.
  • Don’t dismiss negative and disparaging remarks. Your friend is being honest. It’s okay, however, to gently respond with truth-based and hopeful comments. However, if your friend or loved one makes comments that are self-destructive, seek immediate help. Depression can be life-threatening.
  • Initiate activities with your friend that he or she likes, especially if those activities involve physical exercise such as golfing, swimming, hiking, etc.
  • Don’t be forceful with your friend about participating in social events and activities. Encourage but don’t push. You may cause your friend to feel overwhelmed and guilty. One woman described her depression as the equivalent of driving a car down the freeway in first gear. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t use a higher gear. Don’t expect your friend to drive faster than he or she is capable.
  • Offer encouragement and praise when your friend takes positive steps towards recovery such as joining a support group, exercise or art class.



Spiritual Support


Prayer is a powerful weapon in the depression battle. One of the most troubling symptoms of depression is the lack of emotion and feeling. That numbness often occurs in your friend’s relationship with God. So knowing that someone else is standing in the gap for them in prayer can be especially encouraging.


  • Ask you friend for prayer specifics: “How can I be praying for you right now?”
  • Follow up on your prayers, “I’ve been praying specifically about (fill in the blank). How is that going?”
  • Offer to pray with your friend, especially when he or she hits a recovery road block or needs an injection of hope and encouragement.



Copyright © 2011 by Endurance with Jan and Dave Dravecky. Portions Adapted from National Institute of Mental Health web site, nimh.nih.gov. NIMH is a part of the National Institutes of Health, U.S. Department of Health and Human Services

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"The journey of our suffering was not hopeless. Through it we discovered the power of endurance - not in our own ability, but in the comfort, encouragement, and hope that God provides"

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