When Life Looks Crazy
In this powerful devotion, Dianna Hobbs offers hope to those in the midst of chaos, sharing how God used her brain trauma and her son's mental health battle for good.
Photo Credit: Getty Images / Stefano Madrigali
Have you ever stumbled upon a season where the world spins wildly, and every thread of your existence seems to unravel? Have you raised tear-stained eyes to the heavens, your soul crying out, God, what madness is this? It bears no resemblance to the promises You whispered in my heart.
If you've wandered through that desolate landscape, or find yourself lost in its wilderness now, I am certain that the gentle hand of God has guided you to these words.
Yesterday, He nudged me to unearth a true tale I have never shared beneath the unforgiving glare of the public eye. "The time has come, Dianna," His whisper echoed in my soul.
So, I will share.
To set the foundation, I must first take you back to the fateful year of 2019, when my life careened off its anticipated path. I have spoken often of the allergic reaction that transformed an antibiotic into a poison, sending me tumbling into the sterile confines of the ICU. There, a ministroke and a relentless barrage of nearly 30 seizures over four days left me dancing along the razor's edge of mortality.
By the grace of God, I emerged from that battle-scarred place, my life intact but my mind forever altered. The silent thief of a traumatic brain injury had broken in, leaving behind a legacy of shattered nerves: anxiety that gnaws with razor-sharp teeth, depression's suffocating shroud, the relentless flashbacks of PTSD, and the uncontrollable whims of a mind in chaos.
It has been a winding journey, navigating the uncharted territory of a mind that has forgotten its own rhythms. For the first time, I was a stranger in my own skin, my emotions a tempest I could not calm, my words a runaway carriage spiraling out of control. I was “a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma” – a living embodiment of Winston Churchill's famous words describing Russia in a 1939 radio address.
In other words, nothing made sense in this topsy-turvy world dominated by brain trauma. There have been days, oh so many days, when I felt like a fragile vase, carelessly shattered on the jagged rocks of circumstance, unable to gather the shards of my sanity. In those moments, I would lift my face to the heavens and cry out, "Where are You, God?”
The Hidden Purpose
Little did I know, in those overwhelming trials, God was quietly at work, speaking peace into the chaotic storm, illuminating a path of understanding on the landscape of my troubled soul.
My understanding began to unfurl like a rose in bloom about three years ago, thanks to our youngest son, Kaleb. It was his struggles that would ultimately reveal the hidden purpose behind the trials that had shattered my own world.
Kaleb, having reached his 18th year, has given me permission to share his story openly.
As I stumbled through the minefield of my own mental health, clinging to the fragile thread of stability, I began to notice the storm clouds gathering on Kaleb's horizon: the mood swings as unpredictable as the wind, the deep sadness that lingered in his eyes like the shadows of twilight, the unexplained pain that wracked his young body, the loss of interest in food, once a pleasure, had withered his growing frame into frailty. He was a ship without anchor in the turbulent ocean of change, his interests wilting like leaves in winter, his sleep a restless wrestling match with his own mind.
He spoke rapidly, his words coming so fast they ran together in a way that was hard to follow. It was a sword to my soul, a dagger to my heart, for our family, especially as the doctors shook their heads, unable to pinpoint the cause. And I, I was barely clinging to my own soundness of mind; some days it felt like a monumental task merely to haul myself from the warm embrace of my bed.
And yet, in the eye of that chaotic storm, God's voice grew louder. He began to speak to me of Kaleb's struggles in the secret language of dreams. He told me it wasn't merely depression, though that is what the doctors suspected. He expressed that Kaleb's soul deeply needed the balance that medication would offer, a steady hand to calm the turbulent seas of his mind. But I, in my limited understanding, could not see the path ahead. If it wasn't depression, why then would he need to walk the precarious tightrope of medication?
And yet, in His infinite sovereignty, God was already at work. He used the gentle guidance of my therapist, Jen, a steady anchor in the storm of my own trials, to guide me towards the truth. One day, as I poured out my heart in her listening presence, she urged me to seek out a thorough evaluation for Kaleb, pointing me towards specialists who would eventually hold up the lantern of understanding.
And so, led by God's steadfast hand, we discovered the diagnosis, an oasis in the desert of uncertainty: Kaleb wrestled with the dual challenges of Bipolar II Disorder and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). The Bipolar II stirred up moods as changeable as the weather, veering wildly between the depths of depression and the dizzying heights of hypomania. And the OCD, in its most sinister form as “scrupulosity,” whispered lies of impurity and damnation into his tender soul.
Receiving those diagnoses was like being handed a map to navigate the uncharted territory of Kaleb's struggles. But had I not walked the dark and winding road of my own mental health journey, I would have faltered, hesitant to steer my child down that fraught path. I know I would have resisted the siren's call of medication, with its risks and uncertainties.
But God, in His unfailing compassion, gave me several dreams and a glimpse into the healing power of medication from my personal experience, confirming that this was the path we were meant to tread.
He Is My Why
Prescribing Prozac to a 15-year-old is a rare and profoundly serious decision, one that demands the utmost care and consideration. But with prayer as our steady anchor, along with open communication and a commitment to Kaleb's treatment, we found a path that balanced our faith with the doctors' expertise and embarked on this journey. And by the grace of God, Kaleb began to improve, to find his footing on this rocky road.
After a few false starts, he found his match in Melissa, a therapist with a heart as wide as the ocean, who equipped him with the tools to tame the wild beast of his mind. I see now that my own winding journey was but a preparation, a boot camp for the trials that lay ahead. Had God not walked me through the fire and out the other side, I would have been ill-equipped to guide Kaleb through the minefield.
“What God is walking you through right now, though difficult, is preparation. One day, you will look back and realize that it was a blessing all along!”
Consider my background: a preacher’s kid, raised in a devout family. Growing up, we never discussed the reality of mental illness, never even uttered the words 'therapy' or 'psych medication.' Just prayer, faith, and praise. That's it.
Were it not for my own journey, I would have been a mother untutored in such matters, a fearful and resistant Mama Bear, wary of the unfamiliar. But God, who knows the end from the beginning, had been readying me for this battle, teaching me to listen, to learn, to let go of my preconceived notions and fears. And so, when Kaleb's war began three years ago, and my own two years prior to his, we clung to our faith like a life raft, allowing it to guide us through the stormy waters.
We stood as a united front, my husband Kenya and I, working hand in hand with doctors and therapists to chart a course for our son through the chaos. Today, Kaleb thrives. The boy who once unsuccessfully wrestled with inner turmoil now stands tall, a young warrior armed with weapons of wisdom and grace. And I, I am renewed, my purpose reignited like a flame in the darkness. For in seeing Kaleb rise from the ashes, I have found the meaning behind my own trials.
He is the why, the missing piece that makes sense of the senseless. I tell him often, this beautiful teen of mine, "You are my why," and his face lights up like the dawn. And I remind him, again and again, that he is chosen, that he is equipped to do great things, no matter the challenges that lie ahead.
Friend, I bare my soul to you because God told me that you need to hear this. You may be stumbling through the wilderness, your heart heavy with the weight of the unknown. But take heart, for God is in the chaos. His hand is guiding you even when the path ahead is shrouded in mist. Hold fast, my friend, for He will bring sense from the senseless, beauty from the brokenness.
An Ancient Story
As I prepared to pull back the curtain on this deeply personal experience, God led me to the ancient true story of Moses, a man who knew a thing or two about finding sense in the midst of madness.
On the surface, Moses' origin story in Exodus appears to be a tragic tale, a chaotic dance with the forces of oppression. It is set against the backdrop of ancient Egypt, a land of stunning wealth and architectural marvels, but also of great upheaval and change. The Israelites, once honored guests, had become a thorn in the side of the Egyptians, their numbers swelling like the Nile in flood season. According to Exodus 1, the new pharaoh, a man consumed by fear and paranoia, saw in them a threat to his power, a potential uprising waiting to happen.
And so, he cracked his whip, instituting a reign of terror: slave masters to break their spirits, and finally, a chilling decree to cast all newborn Hebrew boys into the crocodile-infested waters of the Nile (v. 22).
In the thick of the chaos, Moses was born, a Levite destined for the priesthood (Exodus 2). But God's hand was upon the child, a protective shield against the forces of evil. His mother hid him for three precarious months, and when she could hide him no more, she set him adrift on the Nile, a tiny King David pitted against the Goliath of circumstance (vv. 1-4).
Oh, the heartbreak of that moment, the desperation of a mother releasing her child into the turbulent waters of the unknown! I imagine his mother’s tears, hot and fast, as they fell onto the fragile papyrus of the basket. I can only picture the silent screams of his sister, watching from the shadows as her baby brother drifted away. It was a last resort, a heart-wrenching sacrifice born of love and the will to survive. Can you imagine?
It must have been incredibly distressing for three-month-old baby Moses to be stripped from his mother's arms and set afloat on the water, crying in fear and confusion, and very likely hungry, when he was eventually discovered.
It seems a cruel injustice, a senseless tragedy. This whole situation looked completely crazy, a chaotic struggle against the forces of oppression. In that moment, it seemed as though God's hand was nowhere to be found amidst the seeming injustice, the heartbreak, the utter despair. But God was in the chaos.
Even as the tears fell, as the baby receded from view, God was at work, His invisible hand guiding the course of events. He was the master puppeteer, pulling the strings from behind the scenes. It was He who sent Pharaoh's daughter to the Nile to bathe at precisely the right moment, her footsteps leading her to the very spot where Moses lay nestled in his tiny ark. And it was He who stirred her heart to compassion, to reach down and draw the screaming child out of the waters (vv. 5-6).
God had set her on a collision course with destiny, a crucial cog in the wheel of His divine plan to thwart the enemy's schemes. In a dramatic and unexpected turn, it was Pharaoh's own daughter, on the referral of a servant, who handpicked Moses' mother to nurse him, cradle him in her arms, and tend to his needs. She was paid handsomely for her troubles (vv. 7-8)!
Later, the king’s daughter became Moses’ adoptive mother, raising him as her own in the very heart of the royal court. The royal household provided Moses with a unique education, serving as a training ground for the great leader who would one day break the chains of oppression and lead his people out of slavery.
Oh, the irony. The baby who began as a basket case grew into the deliverer of the Hebrews, a towering example of God's power to bring sanity to the insane, order to the disorderly, justice to the unjust. From tragedy, God forged triumph. From plots, He shaped preparation. And Israel's victimization became a victory that resounds through the ages.
What a mighty God we serve!
No Weapon Formed
Just as the weapon formed against Moses did not prosper, when the hand of the Lord is upon you, no weapon formed against you will prosper either (Isaiah 54:17).
The enemy may plot and scheme, but his plans will always come to naught. I’m reminded of the passage I love so dearly in Isaiah 8:10 (NIV): “Devise your strategy, but it will be thwarted; propose your plan, but it will not stand, for God is with us.” As the latter portion of Romans 8:31 (KJV) says, “If God be for us, who can be against us?”
Oh, my, my.
"You, my friend, are a child of the covenant, with the promises of God spoken over your life like a benediction. Whatever you face – adversity, heartache, disappointment – no diabolical plan can shatter the divine blueprint for your life. The Word of the Lord stands as a rock against the tempests of life.
Hear me today: your circumstances may look crazy right now. They may feel as though they are spinning wildly out of control. You might feel like a total basket case—someone in a state of extreme stress, anxiety, disorganization, emotional overwhelm, or even mental instability. But take heart, for God is at work, even in the chaos. Just ask Moses; God uses basket cases to become world-changers.
He uses basket cases to bring hope to the hopeless. He uses basket cases to reshape the course of history. He uses basket cases to shatter the chains of oppression. He uses basket cases to achieve the impossible.
He uses basket cases to lead others out of darkness and into light. He uses basket cases to become instruments of His divine purpose. He uses basket cases to bring glory to His name. He uses basket cases to accomplish more than they ever dreamed possible.
Personally, during my basket case season, I couldn't see how my own brain trauma could lead to anything good. But God used it to prepare me to help lessen my son's trauma in his mental health battle.
That's how God works – setting things in motion long before the plan makes sense to us. What looks like enslavement in the beginning can be the very thing that paves the way for your liberation. What appears to be defeat may be a stepping-stone on the path to victory. What feels like restriction may be the very thing that sets you free.
What seems like weakness may be the vehicle through which your strength is revealed. What appears to be scarcity may be a prelude to abundance. And what feels like sorrow may be the labor pains that give birth to joy.
Crazy Faith
It takes a crazy kind of faith to hold fast to the belief that what looks utterly mad now is but a prelude to the crazy favor, blessings, opportunities, and breakthroughs that God has in store. Crazy faith means a heart willing to trust, a spirit committed to perseverance, and a persistence that grips promises tightly, even when logic falters.
Crazy faith moves mountains, brings sense to the senseless, and introduces sanity into chaos. Crazy faith sets the prisoner free, breaks the chains of oppression, and leads us out of the wilderness into the Promised Land. Crazy faith moves God on His throne and activates His power.
I dare you today to hold fast to faith, even when the road ahead winds through the wilderness. Trust in God’s goodness, even when His hand is invisible. Cling tightly to divine promises, even when they seem to make little sense.
Exercise crazy faith, even when your circumstances look crazy. God told me to tell you that if you don’t give up in the chaos, there is a promise waiting for you. It’s a promise I’m stirring as the sweetener into your cup of inspiration—etched into the pages of Isaiah 45:2—that God will go before you, smoothing out the rough places, leveling the mountains, and making the crooked paths straight.
As you drink down the contents of your cup, trust that God will take what looks utterly mad, what feels like a chaotic mess, and transform it into a masterpiece of stunning beauty. He will take what seems like senseless tragedy and use it to set in motion a chain of events that will lead to crazy victory, crazy breakthrough, and crazy favor.
Watch Him do it!
Pray This Prayer:
God, thank You for reminding me that even during the hardest seasons, the most chaotic circumstances, and the craziest struggles, You will bring sanity to the chaos, purpose to the seemingly senseless, and cause every weapon formed against me to fail. When the road gets so rough that I feel like I won’t make it, please help me hold fast to the promise that You will smooth out the rough places, level the mountains, and make the crooked paths straight. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
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As always, thanks for reading and until next time... may today's cup of inspiration uplift, encourage, and empower you!
