“And He withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and He knelt down and began to pray,”
Luke 22:41
WHO KNOWS WHAT JESUS IS THINKING AT THIS PRECISE MOMENT as he entered the Garden? His disciples waited for Jesus and scripture states that he proceeded ahead of them to find some needed strength through prayer— this verse tells us he went “a stone’s throw.”
We often share in the sorrows of the people closest to us, and Jesus wants His disciples to follow him. And they do, but not all the way. They came close, but were oblivious to the full nature of the pain that was beginning for Jesus. They slept while he agonized.
He was for the first time perhaps, needing someone close.
Many of us will make the same trip to the garden. Soon every believer makes the trip to ‘Gethsemane,’ but not as mere observers. It is a distinct place of testing and of sorrow. And each will experience it for themselves. “The servant is not above his master.”
But Jesus is close— he completely understands what it means to be alone with sorrow. The believer can lean on Jesus as the pain continues. He sends his “Comforter” to each, as he escorts us through this time. He comes in grace, and is completely kind.
He is truly just a stone’s throw away.
“God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble.”
Dancers are some of the most talented people I know. Their gracefulness can be seen both on and off the stage. A dancer’s training is far from easy. But by choosing to become dancers they have made a decision to absorb pain.
Their toes and feet are blistered and bruised; they take constant abuse. Some live with chronic tendonitis. Their feet bleed sometimes, and pain is their constant companion, but they still choose to dance.
Two things to consider.
They choose to dance. Dancers must operate with an iron will and an elegant grace. I suppose that is why they can dance the way they do. They have painfully blended the two.
The scars and bruises often become “badges of honor.” They would rather dance in pain, than not dance at all.
I once heard someone describe depression as having a mental bruise. I understand this. It makes sense.
As one prone to depression, I know what it is like to bury myself in my bed for weeks at a time. My own mental bruise was simply more than I could take. There was a sensation of sinking into blackness, a sense of total and complete despair. I felt lost and completely alone.
I prayed. I groaned, and I prayed again. Things weren’t going well.
My sense of being totally lost in sad, dark thoughts was beyond comprehension. Dear reader, this was something quite real, and you must become aware of these things. Some of your friends are suffering, and it is often a hellish and desperate depression.
We would never say that diabetics are that way because of the enemy. The dark one will surely exploit it, but I think you give him far too much credit if you suggest he was able to initiate it. I don’t think Satan has the spiritual “voltage.”
I refuse to hide my mental bruises from those who share my pain. I will make the choice to dance. I’m bruised, but I will try to ignore the pain. I would exult in my God, walk in His love, and “leaping with joy like calves let out to pasture” (Malachi 4:2.)
“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he has brought justice through to victory.”
Isaiah 42:3
The great pastor/evangelist Charles Spurgeon once spoke about his own personal battle with depression. Read this quote slowly and deeply:
“I find myself frequently depressed – perhaps more so than any other person here. And I find no better cure for that depression than to trust in the Lord with all my heart, and seek to realize afresh the power of the peace-speaking blood of Jesus, and His infinite love in dying upon the cross to put away all my transgressions.”
“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.“
2 Timothy 1:7
When you’re profoundly depressed issues like taking a hot shower and eating something seem impossible. I’m embarrassed to say I once went 34 days with a shower. I laid in bed pretty much unable to function. I lost 60 lbs.
I suppose that is the insidious truth about chronic depression, I know it well. God seems far, far away. Life doesn’t matter anymore. I am way beyond ‘salvageable.’ I obviously don’t say it, but I feel deep-down like I’m destined for God’s scrap yard of failed souls.
Just a word here about Satan’s battle for our soul.
He’s a boxer who almost always attacks our vulnerabilities and weaknesses. He finds an open cut, and pounds it over and over.
He is evil far beyond human comprehension. His schemes and plots are his attempt to destroy me and to extend his darkness.
Scripture tells us that the devil is conquered. Using God’s weapons (Ephesians 6:10-18) we can protect ourselves from his evil intentions. But that war is still demanding and it’s a real challenge at times. Especially for us.
But yet there is much I can do.
Yes, it’s true–life does seem impossible at times. Depression, if not confronted biblically, will slowly devour us. It deceives and cripples. There is nothing quite like it; some people tell you it will pass, and that you’ll see the sun again, but they don’t get it. Sometimes it seems to be the worst advice ever given.
Please understand that afflicted souls are special to God.
And that alone truly comforts me. It seems like there is an invisible tether that holds from completely dropping off the edge. When I pray–it is often desperate and brief. (More like a quiet scream for help.) There are no frills and no eloquence, but I know I’m being heard by Him who guards my soul.
People, for the most part, don’t always understand and are of little help. I must admit that my own attitude about this can be less than stellar. I want to shout, “unless you have been lost in this particular section of hell yourself, perhaps it’s best if you just shut up.” (I don’t really say this mind you, but I’m terribly tempted to.)
TrytospeakhonestlytotheLordasoftenasyoucan.
Learn to listen to His voice. I read the Psalms–they give me a spiritual ears so that I can hear Him. I find a voice that can speak to God. Reading the Psalms imparts things that I desperately need.
That “sound mind” promised in 2 Timothy 1:7 needs to be believed. You must activate it by faith. Even a faith that falters and is weak. But like a shield, you need to lift it up to defend yourself.
“I will trust Him. Whatever, wherever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. My sickness, or perplexity, or sorrow may be necessary causes of some great end, which is quite beyond us. He does nothing in vain.”
“Father,every family has a rascal someone who breaks the rulesa juvenile delinquent of untold frustrations and sleepless nights a repeated offender and bearer of sad woe the problem child who needs the most discipline.
Is this why you love me most persistently?When you correct me, is it becauseI’m the one most contrary?
Or is it that you love me so much?”
I wrote this thinking about Hebrews 12 and God’s purpose of chastening. I don’t pretend to understand this dynamic completely–all I can say is that my childhood was punctuated by much difficulty. But now, as a father (my two children are now grown), fatherhood has become far easier than my dad had with me.
7 “As you endure this divine discipline, remember that God is treating you as his own children. Who ever heard of a child who is never disciplined by its father? 10 For our earthly fathers disciplined us for a few years, doing the best they knew how.“
“But God’s discipline is always good for us, so that we might share in his holiness.11 No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.”
Hebrews 12:7, 10-11
I really think we understand our Heavenly Father when we spend quality time with Hebrews 12. We are given insight into His care and into our own issues. It is a good thing He gives us— it enriches our spiritual lives.
It’s never nice to be corrected.
It’s not pleasant. Part of being corrected is being reminded that we’re not as righteous as we think we are. To be corrected strikes us to a reprimand, an admonition that something isn’t right inside of us.
The Father corrects His children–in many ways through a myriad of circumstances. He loves us far too much to allow us to continue in our sin. He’s making us into the image of Christ.
We should welcome His correction. He has a plan for you.
When He disciplines you, it only proves that He is your Father. It’s critical to remember: God’s correction is always for our good. It may be painful yes, but it comes with real hope. It’s not to harm or punish you.
“Father, I’m so sorry that I grieve you as often as I do. I promise to behave. Thank you for being a faithful Father who cares deeply for my soul. Amen.”
“Look upon your chastening as God’s chariots sent to carry your soul into the high places of spiritual achievement.”
Broken Believers 