The imago deo of my people

 

 

My heart was in a soft spot this morning. Maybe it’s the fact I just ended therapy yesterday, or maybe it’s the fact I read a really good Lenten reflection this morning urging that where we see injustice and exclusion we must speak up. 

Either way my day didn’t go as planned when a dear friend forwarded me a petition to stop the senate from approving new legislative amendments to allow people with mental illness to seek euthanasia. 

I couldn’t get the thought out of my head that my people are in danger. 

This reality threw my whole homeschooling morning off. I could not focus on anything else. It felt like a tidal wave washing over me and I was too small to turn it around. As the day progressed, I tried pivoting and turning these deeply held yearnings into teachable moments. And maybe today's lesson was the imago deo of all people, including those with mental health illness. 

At the heart of the matter I hear a message spoken that the pain and struggle that me and my friends with mental illness live is too much for this world. We are too much, too intense, too difficult to deal with. Instead of fighting for us, instead of putting our time and energy into figuring out creative, compassionate accompaniment, instead of creating a world where we can all belong, instead of reflecting back the significance of each uniquely made individual even in our brokenness and pain, law-makers are ready to send the message that some people are simply too broken for this world. 

I believe you and me and everyone has value simply because we exist. The people in this world who don’t fit the hegemonic mould are our teachers and give us all an opportunity for our hearts to be cracked open like a seed sprouting pathways of new growth. Let’s roll out the red carpet in our hearts for real, messy relationships that pave the way for deep, abiding love. 

We are all made in the imago deo — that is we are created in the image of God and as such we all have inherent dignity that no human person can give or take away. 

This truth has been especially important in my walk with my own struggle with anxiety. I’m quick to second guess my worth and look sideways for my purpose and meaning. It’s easy to compare with others who appear more capable, more worthy. 

And yet something deep within my conscience says: who am I to judge another person’s worth, and so why do I place my own worth on trial? 

Right now the worth of Canadians with mental illness is being put on trial. And with my tiny voice I want to be on record saying, allowing people with mental health to end their lives is wrong. And I don't care how ugly or meaningless or painful you or they perceive their lives to be. You are loved. You matter. You belong. And I believe in hope against hope that there is another way forward.

I believe all people desire to have significance and belonging. I believe that our worth is not determined by what we do, what we own, what we know, how healthy we are, the measure of our contribution, how funny or serious we are, how attractive or athletic we are, how rich and powerful, how comfortable our lives are, how free from struggle and strife we are, how peaceful or tortured our lives. 

I believe our significance and belonging comes from the simple fact that we exist on this Earth and express the imago DEO stamped into our being. 

In my own journey with mental illness, I desperately want to know that my life matters and that I belong. I believe anyone contemplating suicide is not having one or both of these essential needs met. We want to be loved and accepted in our brokenness. 

Because we’ve been given the free gift of life, it is our debt of gratitude to reflect to one another their dignity and to remind one another that they belong in this world. 

It’s not up to anyone but God to give and take away life. You may disagree. And that’s okay. For the sake of being honest to my values, I’m willing to hold space for disagreement because I believe the demands of love are just that — demanding. Love is sacrificial. Love is willing the good of another. To actively bring about my own death or the death of someone else, no matter how justified it may seem, is never the good, loving choice. 

We always have a choice. And my choice is to give my time, effort and resources to help reflect the inherent dignity of as many people as I can. I want to welcome as many people into my life to remind them they absolutely have a place of belonging in this world, until the appointed and anointed time comes to go back into the hands of Love from where they came. 

I'm learning that not everyone will always agree with me and that that's okay. But it's still valuable and important to share my perspective and live an authentic life that reflects my values. If you do not agree, that is alright; I still value your friendship and think it's all the more important we are in each other's lives.