Tag: depression

Hope in My Pocket

It was a long cold winter that year. I felt sure it would never end. The sun finally emerged one day, but it was still a bit cool so I pulled out my favorite yellow spring jacket. I reached into the pocket and to my surprise I found a $20 bill. I must have known it was there at one time because I most likely put it there. But it had been a long winter, a long time since it was warm enough to wear that jacket. Even though I didn’t know it, that $20 bill was there all along just waiting for me to find it again.

Sometimes hope is like that $20 bill, hiding in your pocket.

We have it and we know it, but in the long hard winters of life we forget about it. The winter can be so long and so cold that we lose all memory of hope. But even though we forget, hope is there all along just waiting for us to find it again.

I struggled a long time with the pain of fibromyalgia.

I had no hope that I would feel well. God reminded me to fear not for hope was still there.

I despaired for five years because of underemployment. I had little hope of securing and being able to keep a full-time job. God reminded me to fear not for hope was still there.

I felt despondent for what seemed like forever over the loss of my mother. And later my father. I had no hope of feeling joy again. God reminded me to fear not for hope was still there.

I traveled the long road of despair and depression, stemming from trauma to bitter to forget. For over a decade I was certain I would be broken forever. God reminded me to fear not for hope was still there.

Recently, I have been in anguish over the state of our world, the corruption and greed, the violence and sickness, that seem to rule the day. Is there any hope for a better world? God reminds us to fear not for hope is still here.

“We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.”

Romans 5:3-5 NLT.

We may forget our hope in the long cold winters of life, but our hope—our God—is still here with us. Some of what we hope for we will not see until we reach heaven. But some of what we hope for is sitting in the pocket of our yellow spring jacket waiting for us to find it again.

Trying to Find a Sound Mind

“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.)

Try to speak honestly to the Lord as often as you can.

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.”

  John Henry Newman

When There’s No Exit: Psalm 88

  O Lord, God of my salvation,
    I cry out day and night before you.
2 Let my prayer come before you;
    incline your ear to my cry!
3 For my soul is full of troubles,
    and my life draws near to Sheol.
4 I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
    I am a man who has no strength,
5 like one set loose among the dead,
    like the slain that lie in the grave,
like those whom you remember no more,
    for they are cut off from your hand.
6 You have put me in the depths of the pit,
    in the regions dark and deep.

Psalm 88:1-6, ESV

I definitely needed this Psalm today. Yesterday I went to the doctor and was blindsided by news that really isn’t good, at all.  Of course, I also have this ongoing struggle with depression.  Today I feel like I’m running a marathon with ‘leg weights’ on. 

This particular Psalm is radically different than the others. 

This Psalm has no kind words, and no praise to God for deliverance.  It is a singularly sad song.  Imagine if you will, a huge stone fortress in the mountains.  Every room has a door, and every room a window.  All except one.  No light enters this room.  There is no entrance or exit, no way to get free.  Psalm 88 describes living that torturous experience.

I like my Psalms to be strengthening or encouraging. 

But then comes this one!  Life unravels and frays.  Everything gets confusing. Life comes apart.  The thought of being one who is irretrievably lost and damned, it saturates my thinking.  The despair is beyond belief, I have no words to describe its special variety of darkness. 

Anyone who has walked into this hell will understand.

Am I ‘less’ a Christian because of this vicious despair?  Some would say so.  The writer in verse 1-2, calls out to God.  (I guess this what you are supposed to do).  There is a sense of consistency in his cry.  In verses 3-5, we see him evaluating his position.  Again, there is a underground current of despair. 

There is simply no help, no deliverance for him.

It’s a bitter and painful place to be.  There are no explanations why life has gotten so nasty and bitter and out-of-control.  But one thing that Psalm 88 does quite well, it strips you of any dignity that you have left. 

(Does this make any sense at all?)

There is so much embedded in the book of Psalms.  Comfort, faith, victory and hope are what we find. But in Ps. 88, we find a black pearl, the only one of its kind.  Somehow, we dare not leave it behind, just because we don’t understand it. 

I’m convinced that it has tremendous power to the disciple who is in endless pain.  Just vocalizing this Psalm does something to us.  These real words help.  This Psalm is ours. 

God has provided it for us.

 

On Being Loved More Gently

There will be no wheelchairs, canes, or even ‘seeing-eye dogs’ allowed in heaven. Outside the gates, you will find a huge pile of crutches.

Some of us have been struggling with mental or physical illness, facing a daily battle against invisible demons that others cannot comprehend. It is a lonely journey, as many people around us don’t understand the depths of our pain, and they unknowingly contribute to our isolation. Their lack of understanding can be hurtful, as it reinforces the feeling of being abandoned and forgotten.

We might wonder why God has afflicted us with such burdens. We might ask ourselves if we are being punished or somehow cursed. These thoughts can shake the foundations of our faith..

However, it is important to remember that our struggles do not define us.

But God’s promises do. We are not defined by our illnesses. We are warriors, fighting battles that others cannot see. Each day we wake up and continue to fight, we display immense strength and resilience.

In our darkest moments, it can be helpful to lean on spiritual things, to seek understanding in prayer or worship. Connecting with the Holy Spirit can bring a sense of comfort and peace, even in the midst of our pain.

Remember, we are not alone in this.

We are surrounded by a community of individuals who have faced similar battles. They are rooting for our success.

Disability doesn’t separate us from our Father’s love. 

I believe He loves “his special needs” children even more. There’s a special intimacy that leads to gentleness and wisdom. He loves you enough to give you these wonderful gifts.

We believe that our transformation is happening, more and more, into the image of Christ.  We are becoming like him (hence the word, Christlikeness).  This is a long process, but it is happening!  (Philippians 1:6). God has given his word.  Don’t give up. It may take years, or maybe taking just a few moments.

I believe Jesus understands us perfectly. He is up to something quite wonderful.

“And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.”

Philippians 1:3-6, NLT

I really hope that you walk in your own shoes, and not be somebody else. Also that you would know the grace of God intimately. Being disabled means a special kind of grace–Jesus’ love for your soul is molded to fit your disability.

I’d like to imagine that there will be a considerable pile of wheelchairs, canes and crutches outside the gates of heaven.

You must believe this. Glory awaits you. Your healing is sure.

(Check out Rev. 21:3-4.)

“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.”

Romans 8:18