Trying to explain depression takes a great deal of effort. The explanations are seldom satisfactory and sadly inaccurate. Complicating the definitions are the two types of depression, which are quite different:
Mild (dysthymia)
Large (clinical)
Both of these are radically different and present a completely set of symptoms. Psychiatrists have diagnostic criteria they use to help them make a diagnosis that will be helpful to the patient. It is kind of a hit or miss judgement call, but there is some validity to their efforts. One of their main resources is the DSM-5 that standardizes treatment of mental disorders and provides a continuity of care.
Mild depression:
Imagine an abandoned factory. You walk inside and at once crunch over the broken glass. Dust covers everything and the once ‘well maintained’ machinery is now covered with rust. It’s damp and musty. You notice graffiti and an old clock frozen in time to 7:53.
Overall, it seems a bit grim and sad. The factory is in complete disarray, but a crew could come and restore it to a functional state. It might take some serious rehabilitation, nevertheless it could happen.
Large depression:
You enter the abandoned factory and are glad you’re wearing a hard hat they gave you at the office. The floor is pretty much impassable, looking up you see that part of the roof has caved in. The machines stand in place, but are hardly recognizable; the are misshapen blobs of rust. There doesn’t seem much of anything to salvage anymore. Things couldn’t get any worse.
Depression has many facets; but it’s always destructive. I find the idea of rust the most compelling. The rust is just oxidation; not even noticeable at first. A steel girder seems strong, but left to its own the rust slowly eats away at the metal. There are molecular changes happening. The integrity of the steel will soon be compromised. It can happen quickly.
I want to encourage to get your depression treated soon. If you have a loved one who struggles get help soon. There is a fallacy about depression that it is relatively harmless— that one can deal with the ‘blackness’ without long term consequences.
If you are a Christian, you need to find help. You can’t ignore your depressive symptoms.
by Maryann B. Hunsberger | CT, originally posted 8/27/2007
After a long absence from making music, not to mention a series of tragedies—including a divorce and her daughter’s suicide—CCM veteran Kelly Willard is back on the scene.
Since the early days of the Jesus movement, Kelly Willard has been a part of Christian music, recording with many of names associated with the pioneers of CCM before releasing her 1978 debut at the age of 21. With nine albums to her credit, Willard has also been featured on more than two dozen worship projects from Integrity Hosanna!, Vineyard, and Maranatha! Music. Now with the release of her new CD Paga, Willard is finally back on the scene, though she’s never been totally absent. She spoke to us from her Florida home about the things occupying her time for the last 15 years: her family, her recording career, her ministry, and a series of tragedies in 2004.
Your last album was in 1990. What have you been up to all these years?
Kelly Willard It was a priority to be home with my husband and children, since I home-schooled both children. And although I stopped recording my own albums and touring to raise my children, I didn’t stop working in Christian music. I lived in Nashville, so I continued to do session work. I’ve done background vocals for artists, and I’ve done solos on praise-and-worship albums. I’ve always followed what was going on in Christian music, and I’ve continued to do as much music as I could.
It sounds like life has been busy.
Willard Very busy. My mother had Alzheimer’s, so we took her in and cared for her for ten years. I was responsible for her health while my children were growing up. I was home-schooling and doing studio session singing while caring for my mother. I haven’t done much since 2004 because of what life has been like since then.
What happened that year?
Willard It was the worst year of my life. On Valentine’s Day, my father died of pulmonary fibrosis. Later, in March, my 29-year marriage fell apart. I worked so hard on the marriage, even going to counseling. But the marriage fell out from under me because the spiritual foundation of the home fell short. My parents were divorced when I was 13, and I said I’d never divorce. It was so traumatic, because my marriage and family were my life. It’s been hard for me to accept.
Then my 18-year-old daughter Haylie fell through the cracks—on August 29, she committed suicide. She had severe depression and she stopped taking her medication. The divorce was a huge factor in her death. It’s the saddest thing ever. Whenever I sang locally in Nashville, Haylie would sing with me, and mher. And in October, my mother died from Alzheimer’s. So, it really was the worst year ever y son Bryan would play bass. She wrote songs and loved the Lord. Too much sadness just overcame for me.
Did you struggle with feelings of failure during this time?
Willard Totally and completely. For your child to check out of life is just horrific. It’s unthinkable, unspeakable pain.
Does depression run in your family, since it is usually a hereditary illness?
Willard Yes. In 1987, when we had just released Message from a King, my fourth album, I was diagnosed with manic-depressive illness. The medication back then affected me badly, so I stopped taking it. In 2002, the diagnosis was reconfirmed, but with a new name: bipolar disorder. I got on a newer medication and it has worked well. It helped me get through the trauma of the last few years. I believe my mother also had bipolar disorder, but it went undiagnosed.
How did your son handle everything?
Willard Bryan was out of the house already. He had gotten an apartment when he was 18 with his friend Phil LaRue and a couple other guys—he played bass with the group LaRue. Then he began to court his wife Liz and they married. So they now live in Nashville and have a daughter Ariel. He’s 24 now and such a strong Christian—a singer, writer, and worship leader, traveling and playing bass for Jason Upton’s band.
What have the last three years been like for you?
Willard It’s been a time of healing. It’s a slow process and it has taken time, but it is happening. I moved to Jacksonville Beach, Florida for support from Beaches Chapel, a church that took me in and helped me move on after my life fell apart. Haylie and I had sung there in 2002 and they had a real burden for me. When things got bad, Pastor Steve McCoy could see how fragile I was. He would call me in Nashville. He asked me to come down for six months, so I did. I went into weekly grief therapy with a Christian grief counselor for 18 months. I also began taking classes at church. The accountability to my pastor and my grief therapist and Jamie kept me alive, as there were times that I honestly didn’t want to live. But, God hung onto me, even when I felt like I couldn’t hang on.
I read a lot of books about heaven, and I get really excited, because reading them helps me live the reality of what our faith is all about. Also, I met Jamie Wellington at church and he became a friend who stood by me. Eventually, he and I got married and I still live in Florida today. God gave me a brand new start in every way.
Which at last brings you back to recording a new album.
Willard I began working on it seven years ago. I thought I’d never record another solo album, but the Holy Spirit impressed on me to involve my kids in making an album with me. That’s my son Bryan rocking on the bass when he was barely 18. His buddies Miles McPherson and Rob Hawkins also played on it. Haylie, who was 15 at the time, sang a duet with me on “Beautiful Jesus.”
Your daughter had a beautiful voice. Is it hard listening to that song?
Willard I made myself listen to it once, just the other day. I saw her on the other side when I heard that.
Where does the title for Paga come from?
Willard I listened to a teaching tape by Jim Goll called “From Prayer to His Presence.” He explained how the Old Testament priests would take incense behind the curtain and burn it as an atonement. This is called “paga” in Hebrew and it means “to make intercession.” When Jesus became our sacrifice, he made the way for our prayers, praises, and worship to become like that incense to the Lord. I wanted this album to draw people to the Lord and take part in that intercession.
I like your cover of “Charity.”
Willard As far as I know, nobody has recorded that song since Jamie Owens Collins recorded it for her first solo album in the ’70s. Which is bizarre, as it’s a great song.
What changes have you seen in the Christian music world since the Jesus movement music in the ’70s?
Willard The ’70s brought a surge of Christian music with Love Song and all the groups from California. It was a great movement of music. But about 20 years ago, I remember Christian radio changing and sounding just like secular radio with DJs trying to act and talk cool, trying to be hip. A lot of the music seemed to lose something. Then, a little more than ten years ago, I saw a revival begin. Very fresh worship and praise music was coming out. Artists like Delirious, Jars of Clay, and Matt Redman were singing about relationships with the Lord again. It was encouraging to see a turn back to simple relationships with Jesus. That’s what everyone loved about early Christian music when people just sang about what Jesus was doing in their lives and they invited others to come along. It’s gotten back to that in much of Christian music.
“Then they went back to Lystra, Iconium, and Antioch in Pisidia. 22They encouraged the followers and begged them to remain faithful. They told them, “We have to suffer a lot before we can get into God’s kingdom.”
Acts 14:21-22, CEV
Paul and Barnabas, together are perhaps the most gifted men ever to minister the Gospel. They have an amazing love for the Church. They operate out of great difficulty, but the deep work they do, proceeds out of encouragement. I looked at a dozen or so translations of the Bible–all of them translate this, “encouraged.” Every single one!
Earlier in chapter 14, we can read about the brutality and ugliness they had to walk through. It was very bad, beyond belief. But these two never ever lose their love for the Lord, and for His people. Their ministry continued to be full of optimism and comfort. They simply can’t be poisoned by the nastiness and bitterness just days before.
They understand something. What they have to say (as they minister that comfort) kind of boggles everyone’s thinking.
They said, “We must suffer many things to enter God’s kingdom.”
Comforting and strengthening, isn’t it? Sometimes when I read this passage I can’t believe what they are saying! It doesn’t make any sense at all. I believe there are three things we must process to fully understand these verses.
*****************
1) What comforts us is not always comfortable.
I’m slowly coming to the place of accepting pain and sickness as my personal doorway into the Lord’s kingdom. I know my mental illness has opened an entrance into something wonderful. My months of being institutionalized in different hospitals has seemed to have filled me with grace, gentleness and love–in other words, the kingdom. At least that is what I think.
2) What we think is the best way often is not.
No one chooses one’s particular path. If we could we would all be driving a BMW and our homes would be palaces, we would win the lottery on a regular basis. Our children would be little angels. We would never be sick, or have a chronic illness. But–we can’t enter His kingdom, unless there are trials. They have to be there, they must. Somewhere it says, if we suffer, we will reign.
3) What we need from our elders and pastors is the truth.
Often the leadership of the Church keeps this one in the closet. They communicate very well other subjects that are enjoyable. And we pressure them to do this, gently and subliminally of course. And everyone wonders why we don’t mature in our faith. Paul and Barnabas are tremendous leaders, but they don’t roll things in sugar, and their ministry carries on the sufferings of Jesus.
Often it seems, when God chooses to bless a man or a woman greatly, He will send a trial to prepare them deeply.
As Christians often our theology tells us that mental illness, depression, and bipolar disorder have no place in the believer’s life. So we hide, sneaking into our sessions with our therapists, and change the subject to minimize our exposure to direct questions. We have had to hide our issues really well.
But I would submit to you that it is we who are closest to the Kingdom of God. It is far easier for us to approach the Father, in our brokenness, humility, and general lostness. We have needs; a sound mind, a healthy body and we know it. We have no illusions of wellness, nothing can convince us that we are well. We are not.
We are broken and only our loving creator can mend us.
You might say that the Church needs us. An Archbishop was given an ultimatum by the Huns who surrounded his cathedral. “You have 24 hours to bring your wealth to these steps”, the war-leader demanded. The next morning the Archbishop came out leading the poor, the blind, the lame, and the lunatics. “Where is your treasure? Why have you brought out these… people?” The Archbishop simply and quietly replied, “These are the treasures of the Church, these who are weak are our valuables. They make us rich.”
We often can value giftedness more than weakness.
I am afraid the the Western Church no longer sees its “treasures” like it should. In our pride and self-centeredness we have operated our churches like successful businesses. We value giftedness more than weakness. We definitely have no room for the desperately weak. I suppose it’s time for the Church to begin to act like Jesus.
Church isn’t where you meet. Church isn’t a building. Church is what you do. Church should be a verb. Church is who you are. Church is the human outworking of the person of Jesus Christ. Let’s not go to Church, let’s be the Church.
by Maryann B. Hunsberger | CT, originally posted 8/27/2007 
Broken Believers 