Amazing Grace–Ruth Soukup’s incredible, inspiring story of childhood trauma, depression, self-destruction, and ultimately, redemption.
{Read Part 1: Falling}
{Read Part 2: Clouds Lifting}
{Read Part 3: Changing Paths}
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Part 4: But For Grace
In the fall of 2009, just a few months after Annie was born, we made the decision to move back to Florida. It had become clear that my 85-year-old mother-in-law, Marie, was no longer able to live on her own, so we made plans to pick her up in Chicago and bring her to Florida to live with us.
I wasn’t eager to leave our nice little life in Seattle and the transition back to Punta Gorda was more than a little painful.
The combination of caring for 2 small children and an octogenarian was trying on the best days and sheer misery on the worst. Annie, at 6 months old, kept us up for hours every single night, usually crying non-stop from about 2am to 5am. My Mother-in-law had a whole other set of issues to manage—countless pills & doctors appointments, hearing & vision loss, high blood pressure, difficulty keeping her balance. It often felt like we had 3 kids instead of 2, and we were totally overwhelmed.
Our friends from before, all either childless or long past the baby stage, simply couldn’t relate to our stage of life, and they quickly disappeared, one by one. As the months went by my despair grew. I was sleep deprived, lonely, bored and miserable. I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself , and the rest of the time being angry at Chuck.
I coped by spending. Not surprisingly, it didn’t help. The more I shopped, the emptier and more miserable I felt, so to make up for it, I shopped even more. Chuck, understandably, responded to my out-of-control shopping habit with anger and frustration.
That spring our marriage–and our life in general–were at a breaking point and yet neither of us had a clue how to fix it, how to break the vicious cycle or improve our situation. It felt like there was no way out.
Salvation came in the most unlikely form.
Long before my children were born, long before I was even born, long before my husband or his only sister were grown, my mother-in-law Marie had dreamed that the train of her wedding dress would be made into a christening gown for her grandchildren.
But life doesn’t always turn out the way we expect. Chuck’s sister opted not to have children and when Chuck entered his 40s still a bachelor, marriage or children seemed unlikely. By her eightieth birthday, Marie had given up hope of ever becoming a grandmother.
When my oldest daughter Maggie was born, the Christening Gown–this lifelong dream of Marie’s–became a hot topic of conversation. After making her wait 83 years we couldn’t not make the dress, but obviously we couldn’t just put her in the dress and not actually have her christened. That presented a problem because Chuck and I were not at all religious.
By that point, God and I had reached an understanding, or at least I thought we had. I would try to be a good person; He would leave us alone. I was no longer angry, but I certainly wasn’t interested in a relationship.
But baptism is a big deal to church people. They won’t just let you walk in off the street and have your kid baptized. You have to be a member of the church. For Maggie’s christening we lucked out. I was technically still a member of the church I had grown up in, even though I hadn’t attended in at least 10 years. We had the very special dress made and she was baptized the day after her first birthday.
As Annie’s first birthday approached, the pressure was mounting to have her also christened in The Dress. We needed to find a church, and fast. We decided to try out the church of the minister who had married us, Pastor John, since we had always liked him. He was laid back and friendly and, most importantly, extremely non-judgmental. Besides, we were sorta desperate, so any church would do.
We started attending services for the sole purpose of having Annie baptized. But surprisingly enough, at least to me, we didn’t hate it. The people were SO nice. Weirdly nice, going out of their way to talk to us and make us feel welcome. After having felt so isolated for so long, it was refreshing. So we kept coming back, Sunday after Sunday, despite our reluctance. When Pastor John retired and a new guy took his place we considered not going anymore. But something still kept us there.
Our very first week, a sweet woman named Angie invited us to join a small group called the Homebuilders. She explained that their goal, as the name suggested, was to help build strong marriages and strong families. We thanked her, but politely declined. Church was one thing, but we were definitely not Bible study kind-of people.
It took a whole year of almost weekly invitations before we finally gave in to her persistence and agreed to attend the Homebuilders group. Even then it was months and months before I actually looked forward to going. Every other Tuesday, Chuck and I would ponder how we could possible get out of it without hurting Angie’s feelings. We could never come up with anything, and she was just so nice, so we kept going.
God was working at me from all sides, almost like a relentless stray cat who kept coming back, nudging me, and forcing me to accept him. This new pastor, Mike, had definitely been blessed with the gift of preaching and his sermons began to rock me to the core, while the fellowship of this incredible group gave me a glimpse of what it really meant to walk with Christ.
Finally, after so many years of doing it on my own, I just stopped trying to resist.
God could have me.
And then suddenly it all became so clear.
All these events in my life, all these things that had, up until that point, seemed random and unrelated, now made sense. It was like I had been standing right in front of a big painting, staring so closely at one small section that I couldn’t see the larger picture. God forced me to step back and see the whole thing, and it was far, far more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined.
The emptiness was finally filled.
Every single step of the way, even when I had rejected and turned my back to God, even when I thought I could do it all on my own, He was there, protecting me, watching over me, saving my life, not once but 5 times, when by all accounts, I should have died, and then always, always placing the right people in the right place at the right time, all doing their part to bring me back to Him.
All of this so that I could stand here before you now, completely whole, a living example of His precious, perfect Amazing Grace.
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Amazing Grace How sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me I once was lost But now am Found Was blind But now I see. ~John Newton~Don’t miss the complete series here:
- Amazing Grace: My Story (Part 1: Falling)
- Amazing Grace: My Story (Part 2: Clouds Lifting)
- Amazing Grace: My Story (Part 3: Changing Paths)
- Amazing Grace: My Story (Part 4: But for Grace)
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Thank you for posting this amazing and inspirational story of pain and recovery! It was very inspiring and has made me even more determined to escape the darkness of my own depression. I have severe depression, am borderline anorexic and have attempted suicide two times this year alone. Now you may be thinking, “What is a 12, almost 13, year old doing being depressed? She has absolutely no idea!”. Well, actually, I do. I have been verbally and physically bullied since the age of three, when I began private school at Faustina Academy. I have bottle cork glasses (I think that’s how they call them), because of a severe case of cataracts I had at just a few months old. Now I have glaucoma on top of that. So, just imagine a little three year old girl with glasses covering up a third of her face that made an owl’s eye look small. That was, (and is) me. So, back to the point. My bullies were my best friends. I was a very trusting little girl, and even though they were doing such terrible things to me, I still loved them. They would call me names, push me in the mud, make me be the monster every time I was allowed to play with them (which wasn’t often) and all sorts of other things. People wondered why I cried so much. They had no idea. If I told anyone, they would think I was lying. So life went on until I moved schools after second grade.
I went a public school. I was rather advanced for my age and was, after a series of tests, placed in a GT classroom. I thought all my troubles were over… But they had just begun. I was bullied constantly.
Eventually, I moved schools once again, not because of (like at Faustina) because of money, but because of the never ending taunting and harassment I was given by my peers. So, I started fifth grade in a new public school. The teasing was slightly less, but still never ending. But, I was still as loving and trustful as I had always been.
Then, middle school began. Sixth grade was wonderful. I was barely teased, and felt happier with the world (though by many people’s standards it was still bad). Our workload was tremendous. We were given the amount of homework high school freshman receive.. In sixth grade. But, I was immensely happy. I had real friends. It was wonderful. About then, I also started my love for the violin. Now, my parents are both musicians, so I had been exposed to music all my life. I’ve played piano since first grade. So, when I began the violin, I quickly advanced from a beginner student who could hold the violin in the correct position, could read music and could play fairly well; to a sixth grader in advanced orchestra. It was kind of weird. I just had a knack for it. Sixth grade was fabulous, but it was also when I started showing signs of depression. I have had depression since the age of three, though it was always at a very low level. I couldn’t even tell at the time. Though that was probably because I was only three.
My parents made me move schools. “You’ll have less homework! More sleep!” they said. But tears were a common thing that summer. I didn’t want to leave all my wonderful friends. “What about Grace and Clara L. and Shivam and Ian and Imtiaz and everyone?” I asked tearfully one evening.
“I’m sure you’ll get lots of friends at your new school” my mom said over and over, hugging me tight.
The first day of seventh grade was pure hell. Usually on the first day, I would get one friend, or at least talk to somebody. NOPE. I was ignored the whole day. And so it went for a month or two until finally I gained some friends. And some not so much friends. From then on, I was again… constantly bullied. That was the year I became suicidal and severely depressed. I self harmed and attempted to hang myself, and took about 16 Tylenol pills along with 20 or more random things. Surprisingly, I didn’t die. And I wasn’t sent to the doctor, ever though I was writhing in pain, crying and screaming. I told my mom that it was food poisoning. She believed me… So life went on with self harming and suicidal thoughts. It was terrible. I don’t think I wanted to kill myself really most of the time. But sometimes… I also began to be borderline anorexic. Not to the point where I was really starving myself, but at the point where I wanted too. I skipped meals and ate less that usual.
Later in the year, I had an on and off relationship (now definitely on) which really helped me. Now I know what you are saying, “You’re 12! How are you in a relationship?”. Frankly, I have no idea how I am in a relationship with a boy with mild schizophrenia. But he is amazing. He also self harmed and attempted suicide. Guess who stopped him doing both? 🙂 This little gal right here! And yes, I am very proud about this particular achievement. And I do have the right to be. I saved his life countless times this year. And yes folks, he is currently alive. And no, he is not 12, or 16. He is 13. Good enough? 🙂 I think yes. Because let me just say, I have saved him several times. He has saved me over 34 times. From self harm and suicide. Our relationship is a friendly one. No kissing, no sex. Nothing other than hugging. Feel free to yell at me for hugging 🙂 I’m kidding. Please don’t yell at me 😀
So, when school ended my depression didn’t end. It intensified. With no way to play my violin 55 minutes a day in class, I had nothing. No friends to talk to anymore. Nada. I had been clean (no cutting) for about 3 months. (Thank you dearest <3 ). And remained blade free for about a month more. I was too distracted by practicing for a week long orchestra and band summer camp at Baylor U. I got first violin. fifth chair 🙂 It was awesome. I made many friends there and was… you guessed it. Bullied. Yay 🙁 I kept away from little miss teaser, skipped meals and made more friends. But, her dorm was near mine so once again Yay 🙁 In the last two days, I met a wonderful bassoonist called Samantha. She was also severely depressed and suicidal. But she was so inspiring. I will always remember one thing she said to me, "Don't kill yourself. Please talk to me if your sad because I don't want to come back and find you d-dead." And she said it with barely a stutter (she had a very severe stutter usually).
About a week ago, I decided, with the faith of my dearest and my instagram followers to stop cutting for 137 days and to not starve for 136. I hope that when I have finished those many days, I will not want to ever return to those terrible habits again.
Thank you for reading my story if you did (it's pretty loooong) 🙂
Sincerely,
Looking for a reason to live Clara <3
Clara-you have reason to live, and his name is Jesus. He made you, and loves you and has a plan for your life. It might be hard to see right now, but if you ask him to reveal himself to you n a wonderful way, I know he will. I know because I was once in your shoes:). God Bless you, I pray Lord that you hold Clara in your arms and show her how much you love her. Bring good loving peers and leaders into her life. In Jesus name, Amen.
MumatHome 🙂
Hi Clara
my name is Grace. I live in Berlin, Germany. You have a reason to live.
God has a purpose for every one. Please use your musical skills to praise the Lord Almighty and you will find peace in Him. He cares and love you more than you can think of. Look for Jesus and get closer to him and he will never leave you or forsake you. He is always there for me and I know he will always be there for you too.
Clara may the Lord shine his face upon. Stay blessed.
Clara,
You’ve got a reason to live. Jesus loves you, it may sound like a cliche but it is true. You only need to believe in Him as your Lord and personal Saviour, you will see the difference.
clara,
I am 15 and I have a lot of friends like you. One of them has been suicidal since 12 or 13, and I have saved her once or twice, but now she has moved schools, (she was bullied at ours a lot). I also have a friend who’s sister is suicidal and is in the hospital a lot, and I know 3 or 4 others who have been severely depressed and self harming. I also had suicidal thoughts myself more than once. Through these experiences (and the experiences I am still going through) I can tell you one thing. There’s only one way and that is through Jesus. I mean, He went through so much more than any of us, and He had to lay down His life for us, that we might be saved, and He was thinking of you when He did it. I might sound like I’m just preaching, but truly I want this for you, I can see you need it. My only friends that were suicidal that have made it through are the ones who turned to Him, which is why I am still alive here, and why I will never see death, because I live in Him. love you and hope you can come to this.
Please talk to your parents or a school counselor. It may be scary to reach out to an adult. But, please reach out and keep reaching out until you find someone who will listen and help. You are very brave and I can tell you have a wonderful heart. But, you are very young and this is a lot to deal with. Please find a grownup to help you through all of this.
THANK YOU for telling your story.
Although my story is very different, I too tried to take my own life, and I too have not always been happy to still be here. I am in a much better place now, still dealing with depression and medications, but I gain peace reading the tales of others like us. Love.
I found you through Money Saving Mom. I am at a loss for words other than to say I had a case of PPD after our daughter was born in October. Luckily, my husband helped me get treatment quickly and within a week, I felt better. I thought that was hell and I am grateful to be on the other side now. You have survived so much more and God is using you to spread his Good News. God bless you in your ministry through blogging.
You are honest and true. I am so happy for you and your family. God is Good his grace is real. It helps others when you share your painful story. These things have happened to many of us. We heal grow strong and move on. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you Carol.
Wow. I am new to reading your blog but this post (and the three before it) just completely blew my mind. You are so strong and it is so refreshing to hear someone speak so very honestly about their past. What an inspiration you are to all of us.