hope

You can trust God, even when it seems scary.

This is going to be one of the hardest posts I’ve ever made. I have been absent for quite a few weeks. The reason for this is for many reasons but mainly because I have been having a multitude of medical tests.

My Wife has expressed concern about my driving for awhile now. I have been on occasions misjudging distance of other cars, waiting too long at traffic lights after they turn green etc. There have been times when trying to process all the traffic movements around me has flooded my mind. Living in a city of 5 million people means this is a challenge. I have also been on occasions struggling to remember names of people I have known as acquaintances.

After many neurological tests early onset dementia has been ruled out, in fact any physiological condition has been ruled out. The conclusion the doctors have come it’s a psychological issue.

Some of you may recall that about 5 years ago a brother and sister went to the police and accused me of assault dating back to 1983. That allegation resulted in a very close suicide event and extended stay in a psych hospital.

After an 18 month investigation the matter was withdrawn before it went to court as we were able to provide irrefutable evidence I was overseas and interstate that whole year. I was a professional actor in 82 and 83 and spend 12 months overseas on tour. There were also major holes in their account and in the end they stopped responding to the police. My lawyers said from the start it was always about money as in the state where they live there is substantial automatic compensation just for making the allegation. There was also bitterness with them because they falsely believed that when I finished acting I would return and marry her. Instead I returned and proposed to my now wife who I had a long distance relationship the whole 2 years I was away.

We thought the matter was closed when the charge was dropped. 18 months ago I was advised they had brought a lawsuit against the church. I thought it had no hope as I attended the church for 3 months in 1981 and was away 82,83.

Well the church not wanting adverse publicity and knowing the courts in that state had a demonstrable bias against churches, settled the matter with a payout. I was very disappointed. What a waste of money and I saw it as rewarding lies. 12 months after the settlement I was advised that the insurance company that covers Pastors would no longer cover me because of the settlement and my credentials were withdrawn. My supervisor was in tears when he told me. He knows I am innocent but the matter was out of his hands.

I was instructed to have a 6 month hiatus from speaking in case the liars saw me on our livestream. For awhile now everything is back to normal and the only restriction is I can’t legally conduct weddings which doesn’t bother me at all.

What really upsets me is how the system in that state is biased to the extent that even making an allegation leads to compensation even if it’s not tested in court. And there will be people aware of the case who believe where there is smoke there is fire.

So now I have to re engage with a therapist. I have been suggested to see one who specialises in helping Pastors and who is a Pastors Wife and understands the unique nature of the ministry.

Interestingly since I decided to pursue therapy again my driving has significantly improved. I really didn’t want to end up here again but ignoring it would be extremely irresponsible. The journey continues.

For the first time in a very long time, I am starting to understand something important:

Life changes when you start finding your people.

Not the people you perform for. Not the people you constantly edit yourself around. Not the people who love you conditionally, as long as you stay quiet enough, calm enough, serious enough, small enough.

I mean the people who see the real you and don’t immediately reach for the dimmer switch.

Recently, I went hiking with someone I had just met. We spent the day chasing waterfalls, walking trails, talking, laughing, climbing over rocks, and admiring the kind of beauty that makes you feel tiny in the best possible way.

A few days later, while we were talking, I made a comment about how my ADHD medication had probably worn off during our hike.

If you have ADHD, you probably know the feeling. My volume slowly rises without me realizing it. I become more animated, more expressive, more visibly excited about everything around me.

For most of my life, that realization would have filled me with shame.

Because growing up, and honestly even as an adult, I was constantly told to tone it down.

Be quieter. Act more serious. Stop talking so much. Calm down. Don’t say weird things. Don’t get too excited. Don’t embarrass yourself. Don’t be “too much.”

When you hear those messages long enough, especially as someone with ADHD, you start learning how to perform instead of simply existing.

You learn how to monitor your voice. Your body. Your facial expressions. Your enthusiasm. Your joy.

You become a social chameleon without even realizing it.

People talk a lot about “masking” in neurodivergent communities, but before I ever knew that word, I used to describe myself as someone who automatically adapted to whoever I was around. I didn’t even know I was doing it. It became survival. I learned how to edit myself in real time to make other people more comfortable.

So when I mentioned my medication wearing off during our adventure, I jokingly said that they probably noticed the difference.

And they responded so casually, so kindly, so naturally: “All I noticed was your love for waterfalls.”

I don’t think they realized how deeply that sentence hit me.

Because they didn’t describe me as annoying. Or loud. Or too hyper. Or too intense.

They saw my joy.

And maybe that sounds small to some people, but for me, it felt healing.

For one moment, I didn’t feel like someone people needed in smaller doses.

I felt safe. I felt unmasked. I felt accepted without needing to perform first.

That’s what finding your people starts to feel like.

I think many neurodivergent people spend years believing we are fundamentally “wrong,” when in reality, we may have simply been surrounded by people who only knew how to appreciate quieter streams.

But some of us were never streams.

Some of us were waterfalls.

Big feelings. Big excitement. Big curiosity. Big wonder. Big love for the things that make us feel alive.

And yes, waterfalls can be loud. They can take up space. They can overwhelm people who prefer stillness and control.

But they can also be breathtaking.

Lately, I’ve been trying to find my people by joining hiking groups and putting myself out into the world more. And honestly? It’s scary. When you’ve spent years masking, being fully yourself can feel incredibly vulnerable.

But little by little, I’m discovering something hopeful: There are people out there who do not want you smaller.

There are people who will see your enthusiasm as passion. Your intensity as sincerity. Your excitement as joy. Your differences as humanity.

People who will not make you feel like a problem to solve.

And if you are someone who still feels alone, who still feels misunderstood, who still feels like you have to constantly shrink yourself to be accepted, I want you to know this:

Your people exist.

Sometimes finding them happens slowly. Sometimes it happens on hiking trails. Sometimes it happens through hobbies, support groups, online communities, volunteering, classes, art, books, gaming, music, or shared interests.

But life really does begin changing when you stop asking, “How do I make myself easier to digest?” and start asking, “Where are the people who will let me flow naturally?”

Because waterfalls were never meant to apologize for making noise.

#ADHD #neurodivergent #audhd #unmasking #MentalHealth #latediagnosedadhd #findingyourpeople #belonging #Healing #Selfacceptance #traumahealing #invisibledisabilities #naturehealing #waterfalls #vulnerability #Hope

I cant imagine the anguish and fear that the disciples must have felt after the events of good Friday. Jesus had been killed in the most cruel and violent way. Their hopes and dreams were shattered. The plans they had had been shredded. Where do they go now?

Sometimes we can have our own Friday experience. And there seems to be no hope anywhere. But hang onto hope, because Sunday is coming. The pioneers of all the worlds major religion had this in common, they all died. And stayed that way. Christianity though is centred around the death AND resurrection of Jesus. Easter Sunday assures us we have a well founded expectation and hope. Happy Easter.

#Depression #Hope #Relationships #FamilyAndFriends #Anxiety #MentalHealth

This group is full of champions.

I watched a documentary this week about a family who believed their Dad walked out of their life when they were young children. They carried that wound for decades. A years ago their world was upended when the body of their father was found buried and police confirmed he had actually been murdered.

The true story is told of an alcoholic man who had two sons. One son became an out of control alcoholic as well. The other son never touched alcohol. When both were asked why they chose the paths they did they both gave the same answer, “What do you expect with a father like mine”.

For a long time I was angry and bitter with my parents. They were supposed to nurture their children and to some extent they did. However, my childhood was at times horrendous due to S.abuse and extreme violence including being burnt.

One day it hit me. I could continue to see myself as a victim and be trapped in a vicious cycle of anger and pain, or I could commit myself to doing what I could do to help others find healing and a better life.

It’s been a process. A long process. One where I have had to face some uncomfortable truths. I have also learnt many facts about my parents that have helped understand some of their life’s journey. Unfortunately all these facts surfaced after they both had died.

I learnt my Mum shot and killed my Grandfather to save the life of her Mum and an unborn baby. Her Dad was well known to police and she was never prosecuted for the killing. It was ruled self defence and the police were actually happy he was taken out.

My Dad was abandoned as a baby and was told his Mum died giving birth to him. A guilt he carried for decades. However when he was 50 he was notified his Mum had just died. For 50 years she had been in a psychiatric facility, why, nobody seems to know.

Getting past your past is not easy. It can be extremely painful and challenging. Choosing not to be a victim strips the power away from our abusers.

Over the years I have financed numerous charities and services here in Australia and overseas. Sometimes people on the receiving end will wax lyrical about my generosity. I appreciate their sentiments but the truth is I have chosen that life because it helps me heal.

Where are you in your journey of healing?