Tag: mental-health

GLIMMERS

One of my intentions for 2026 is to be more aware of glimmers. If you don’t know what a glimmer is, I think of it as the opposite of a trigger. Most of us know what a trigger is. It can be internal, such as a thought or a feeling, or external such as a sight, a sound, or even a smell that cause a strong emotional or physical reaction. A trigger can set off a cascade of negative emotions such as anxiety and depression. But a glimmer, oh a glimmer.  Glimmers are tiny micro moments of joy and they can be found everywhere. You don’t even need to leave you house if you start to look for them. They are everyday experiences that we often take for granted. When you take a moment to enjoy a sunset, or appreciate the laughter of a grandchild, you are having a glimmer moment. Unlike triggers, when we focus on God’s good gifts to us, even the small ones, we experience gratitude and well-being, and improved mental health. Glimmers create happiness by calming the nervous system, increasing neuroplasticity, and help to build positive mental health.

A few evenings ago, we experienced the first super moon of the year, called the wolf moon for the howling winter wolves (although in Tulsa, Oklahoma we haven’t had much winter). We had gone out to dinner, and since I cannot see a moonrise or a sunrise from my yard due to all the trees, I planned to look for it while we were out. The wolf moon did not disappoint. Oh my goodness! It was a big orange ball rising over the horizon. If you Google it, you can see some spectacular shots taken all over the world. Since we were in a busy commercial area, I wondered how many people even noticed. God went to all the trouble to put this beautiful object in the sky for us to enjoy, but I am thinking most of us didn’t stop to appreciate it. That was a spectacular glimmer!

But there are smaller ones every day. A text from a friend, the snores of a sleeping dog beside me, the quiet joy of being in a warm house with my needs met. God says, “Be still and know that I am God,” (Psalm 46:10). To get the full benefit of a glimmer, we need to take a few seconds to savor it, to allow the feeling to take root. I am encouraging my clients to keep a glimmer journal, and I am going to do likewise. I bought a set of small journals form Archer & Olive, perfect for carrying with me. I am going to train my brain to look for glimmers, to be aware of God’s good gifts to me. I think it will be fun to look back over my glimmer journal at the end of the year and take inventory of my blessings.

How Did I Get Here

I never expected to get old. I don’t know why…I just never pictured myself as old. I know it happens to everyone if they are lucky enough to make it to old age. But I didn’t expect it to happen to me, at least not so quickly. After all, I am a Baby Boomer. We are forever young, aren’t we?  And yet, here we are. My high school classmates are slowly falling apart or dying. Even Gidget and Moondoggie are gone. And even though I don’t feel old, the world constantly reminds me in subtle and subtle ways.

It began back in 2020, during the pandemic. The word “elderly” was used frequently. Wait! Are they talking about me?? That hit me with a jolt. Then our sweet neighbors volunteered to go to the grocery store for us because elderly people were told to stay home. That was thoughtful, but we never quit going to the grocery store. Besides, we are not elderly! My great-grandmother was elderly, but I am most certainly not!

However, according to experts, I became elderly some years ago. I hate the word, “elderly” because it sounds so fragile and frail. I’m also not crazy about “old,” “aged,” or “geriatric.” Some people dislike the term, “senior,” but that is one I can tolerate. People try to find nice ways to say old. I notice it, especially in the names of Sunday School small group classes for senior adults. (I just outed myself as old!) I was once in a class called, “Crown Adults.” They might as well call it God’s Waiting Room.

This business of aging has been especially on my mind this month because my husband and I both have birthdays in January. I have already had mine, so for a couple of weeks I am older than he is. And both of us have a really big number looming ahead next year. How in the world did this happen?

Despite everything I have just written, I am actually at peace with my age. It’s interesting how the shift from feeling “forever young” to suddenly seeing the signs of aging can happen so gradually, but still feel like a surprise when it hits. It’s like one day you wake up, and the world is reminding you in ways big and small that time is moving on. I guess I don’t like to be told that I am old. And I’m not crazy about looking old either. But there are some perks that come with being older. I am not opposed to taking advantage of a senior discount. And although it is sometimes annoying, lowered expectations of others can work in my favor. I like being able to sit down and get lost in a book in the middle of the day. Or having my pajamas on before Wheel of Fortune starts. I am not above playing the senior card when it works in my favor. My sister says, “In our declining years we can decline anything we want.” I like that! I am much more content at this point in my life. I don’t have to be on the go or attend every event.  

So what is my purpose at this point? I am still here so God must not be finished with me. I still do some counseling and that is fulfilling to me. I can listen and encourage folks. I can pray. And I can tell others about God’s faithfulness, even into my old age. 

Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you. Isaiah 46:4

WHAT’S YOUR STORY

Someone was asking me yesterday about my training and background in psychology. I was recounting how most of my graduate school preparation was in neuropsychology. That is the direction I was headed, and while that is an interesting career, it held a drawback for me. When doing a neuropsychology evaluation, you take a history of the patient, and during this time they will tell you about their lives. For example, one of my assignments was at the Parent Child Center, where I would do evaluations on parents who had lost custody of their children, but were hoping for re-unification. I remember wanting to know how things went. Did they make changes in their lives? Were they able to have their children back? But I only had one day with them. If I were going to have a career in neuropsychology I would never know the rest of the story.

The not knowing was a frustration I thought I could live with until the day my dissertation chair told me I needed to do a therapy rotation. “You will not be able to get an internship if you don’t have some therapy experiences,” he said. So I reluctantly took his advice and never looked back! Psychotherapy came so naturally to me, but grinding out neuropsych evals was laborious. I quickly realized the therapy room is a sacred place. It is a privilege when people share their stories. Together we walk through the hard and look for solutions. Occasionally, the most I can do is weep with them. I remember one of my professors telling me that I would need to be able to sit with pain. Oh the pain some people experience! People ask me how I am able to do it. I don’t do it alone. I invite the Holy Spirit to come along side me.  

Even in my private life I want to hear the story. Before I ever even dreamed of going to school in my forties, strangers would approach me at the grocery store and begin telling me their life stories. I can remember a woman crying over the frozen food aisle. “How does that happen to you,” my husband would ask. I try to make a point to chat with the “invisible” people in my life: checkers, waitresses, etc. Even if we only have a few seconds, there is something powerful about being seen and heard.

We all have a story.  I used to think of my story as my story, but in later years I recognized that Jesus invited me into His story. It’s all about Him. Even though my story is not important, it is an honor to even be a line or a footnote in His great story of redemption. I was talking with my former pastor a few days ago. He is recently retired and we were discussing the fear many retirees have of becoming irrelevant, and then having that aha moment. We are irrelevant! And being at peace with that! My story is not even a blip on the world’s radar, but what an honor to have a tiny part of God’s story. I believe that God is still writing my story. What’s your story?