I've been sitting in the library for the past couple hours trying hard to answer a discussion question for my online class. Doesn't seem like a big deal. It's not. But what is is depression. Depression is a big deal. It's real. Real as Oregon fog blocking the view of a breathtaking coast. Maybe it's cause I'm an Oregonian. Probably not. More likely it's my genetic heritage and part of life in this broken world. But it's a reality that I walk into somedays. Unwillingly. But nevertheless it's there.
Depression is real. People don't like to talk about it. I don't either. But it needs to be talked about more and more. As a Christian, I have no holy potion that keeps me from facing it's darkness. But I do have a living God who has given me his precious word and shown me who he is in Christ. This is the light I cry out for when depressions fog descends. I can't pull myself up by the bootstraps and feel better or muster up enough faith. But I can call on the same God the Psalmist called on when he cried, "My heart throbs! My strength fails me and the light of my eyes- it also has gone from me." (Psalm 18)
As I was looking out at the nice sunny day with puffy eyes, a heavy body and burdened heart this poem came to me. Maybe you can identify and cling to Jesus with me!
Save me, O God! For the waters have come up to my neck. I sink in deep mire, where there is no foothold; I have come into deep waters, and the flood sweeps over me. I am weary with my crying out; my throat is parched. My eyes grow dim with waiting for my God. -Psalm 69:1-3
Psalm 69 is not exactly a common Bible verse quoted at Christmas. But I think it's perfect for Advent. At least it's where I'm at right now. Maybe you are too.
For lots of people, Christmas is not all joy and jolly. For many it's a very painful reminder that they long for things to be right and happy and light, but in reality they find themselves in a place where things are wrong and sorrowful and dark. If you find yourself in a place like that today, I pray this will encourage you as it has me.
I counted 11 times in my version of Psalm 69 where the writer asks God to save him in various ways.
Save me O God! For the waters have come up to my neck... (vs.1) ...answer me in your saving faithfulness. (vs. 13) Deliver me from sinking in the mire... (vs.14) ...let me be delivered from my enemies. (vs.14) Let not the flood sweep over me... (vs. 15) Answer me, O LORD... (vs. 16) Hide not your face from your servant... (vs. 17) Draw near to my soul... (vs. 18) Redeem me... (vs. 18) Ransom me because of my enemies.... (vs. 18) ...let your salvation, O God, set me on high. (vs. 29)
Obviously the person writing this was in some sort of circumstance that made him feel desperate for God to show up and do something! And apparently these circumstances had been there for awhile and the writer wasn't seeing God show up because he writes:
I sink in deep mire,
where there is no foothold;
I have come into deep waters,
and the flood sweeps over me.
I am weary with my crying out;
my throat is parched.
My eyes grow dim
with waiting for my God. (vs.2-3)
He's sinking. There's nothing to stand on. He can't keep himself up. He's overpowered by his circumstances. And it's not short lived so he's weary. His faith-eyes are barely able to see any kind of hope because he's been waiting so long for God to show up and do something about this overwhelmingly difficult, long season.
There's a lot here. The psalm describes the writers desperateness for God to do something about his circumstances. He's specific about the circumstances- overwhelming numbers of enemies, lies, reproaches, shame, accusations. He even says that even though he knows he's not guiltless- God knows the wrongs he's done- he knows these circumstances aren't because he did anything wrong. "For it is for your sake that I have borne reproach..." He's in these overwhelming circumstances because he is a God-representative. He's in this despairing situation because of his identification with God.
At that point you may say, "Well, I'm out. I'm in the situation I'm in that I wish God would show up for and do something about because of my own mistakes." That might be true to some extent. Like this Psalmist, none of us are free from the guilt of folly and wrongs that God knows about and may even be in part cause of our current suffering. I too am in a long-lasting difficulty that is in part due to my own sins. But in 1 Peter, Peter says something that always gives me hope and encouragement:
"Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed." (1 Peter 4:12-13)
I know that the only person who can claim perfect sinless suffering for God's name's sake is Christ. But, we who bear his name and love him and seek and him hate our sin and, like the psalmist in Psalm 69 acknowledge our sins before God, we have an "insofar as" sharing in this suffering that Christ perfectly endured. And we need to see that and believe that, because that's where we will find the deliverance and redemption we long for from God.
The psalmist who wrote this was weary with waiting for God to come do something to deliver him out of these horrible circumstances. You might be too. I know I am. And that's ok. It's ok to long for God to do something to keep you from being swallowed up by the anger, bitterness, hopelessness and guilt that your circumstances threaten to bring. What I find amazing in this psalm is that the writers very cry to God to save him and answer him and deliver him and draw near to him and redeem him and ransom him and set him on a high place, is exactly where he finds God giving him hope and a song and a word of encouragement for other fellow long-sufferers.
He doesn't find that his faith-dim eyes suddenly see because God comes in and changes his circumstances. He finds that in his crying out to God, God is there with him, strengthening him to endure.
By verse 30 of the psalm the writer turns from crying out in desperation and vulnerable confession to praising God with his words.
I wil praise the name of God with a song;
I will magnify him with thanksgiving...
When the humble see it they will be glad;
you who seek God, let your hearts revive.
For the LORD hears the needy
and does not despise his own people who are prisoners.
Let heaven and earth praise him,
the seas and everything that moves in them.
For God will save Zion
And build up the cities of Judah,
and people shall dwell there and possess it;
the offspring of his servants shall inherit it,
and those who love his name shall dwell in it. (vs.30-36)
This is what we, who are waiting for God this Advent, need to do: SING and GIVE THANKS!
SING
I can't even tell how many times the simple act of opening my mouth and letting my soul sing, even while the tears flow, has caused me to find God is there. He's there as I sing reviving my heart and reminding me of his promise: He will conform me to the image of his Son (Romans 8:29) He will make all things new (Rev. 21:5). He will not reject me or leave me (Hebrews 13:5). He will judge rightly all that happens to me (1 Peter 2:23).
Don't know what to sing? Don't have a great voice? Here's a couple of my favorites to sing when I'm overwhelmed with my circumstances and sadness:
GIVE THANKS
This is harder for me. Singing seems to come out of me (with the assistance of YouTube or iTunes) more easily, and lifts me almost instantly into hope. But the psalmist says he will magnify God with thanksgiving after telling him how dim his eyes had grown waiting for God to show up.
When the flood of hopeless thoughts, accusations and heartaches barrages you and threatens to take your faith down, you need to open your mouth Sheila and speak out loud what you are thankful for, or write it if you can't talk! It will be a gasp of oxygen to your soul and some light for your dim eyes!
It's Christmas. Everyone is decorating trees and you may feel like the world should be painted grey not red and green and glitter right now. But what if you took out a piece of paper and started writing what you're thankful for and put it on a tree, or on a wall and decorated your hard, painful, weary-with-waiting-for-God Christmas with words of thanks to God.
Don't know where to start Sheila? How about the fact that you have access to God's words that pulled you out of a sinking pit this morning? How about the fact that you've been provided food and clothing and comfort and song and family and... the pieces of paper should cover the tree, or the wall.
Join me today in pouring out desperate cries for God to show up, singing songs of worship and longing and faith, and writing or speaking words of thanks to God that make you and I remember how big and good he is.
I was thinking the other day about the patterns in my life. I have bursts of creativity that tend to fizzle and fade. But writing has been a steady pattern of unsteadiness since I was about 10 years old. I have bursts of creativity in writing that still fizzle and fade but they don't stay gone forever. They return.
I have a theory. My theory is when I am meditating on God's word daily I produce bursts of creativity in writing. And when I skip reading my Bible or don't stop to really meditate on something I've read that creativity begins to fizzle and fade. So basically, you can look back at my patters of writing and almost create a direct correlation between how much I write and how much time I spend chewing on God's word. So it's been what... 4 months. Yeah. Not good.
Which came first the lack of Bible or the depression? I don't know, but they definitely spin each other into a dark spiraling pit.
So life has been dark and hard lately. But in the darkness and silence of God that is so hard to live with for me I am being held up by truths that are laid under me like a firm foundation.
As I was plodding through my Bible readings the other day, longing to drink something that would quench my parched soul, it struck me that I need to speak out loud the truths I'm standing on even though I don't feel the refreshment of them right now. And in doing this I feel the break in the dryness give way to a burst of life-giving water.
It's the way it works. It's the way faith works. It's the way living by faith works.
When you say what God says in agreement with him, believing him, it builds the faith you had to believe what he said in the first place.
But what does it say? "The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart" (that is, the word of faith that we proclaim);
because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. -Romans 10:8-9
So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ. -Romans 10:17
It's the truth: The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost. - 1 Timothy 1:15
I need a savior. And I have Him! And He has me! And He would have you too if you would have Him. He's the bedrock foundation I'm standing on in this darkness.
Well, it's 10 O'clock, and everyone is in bed and it's finally quiet so I can think. I'm trying to stave off some bug that's decided to give me a dizzy-headache and sore throat in the last hour. Hot tea and lots of vitamin C I'm hoping will do the trick.
Today, joy. The third Sunday in Advent the preacher preached on joy. And I'm glad he did it the way he did. Cause it's not that easy. It's not a health and wealth gospel the joy of advent speaks of. It's not, "Jesus will make you happy." Or, "Jesus will give you what will make you happy." It's, "Jesus, Man of Sorrows, he knows. He knows you. He knows what caused things to not be the way their supposed to be: sin. And He came to take care of that problem. And believing that about Him brings something much more real than circumstantial happiness, something you can bank on, something warm and hopeful in you even when you feel sorrow: joy. Real. Lasting. Unstealable. Joy."
I'm glad he did it the way he did it because honestly, I walked in that building today and when he asked the congregation if we had to pic an emoticon what would we be, I mumbled, "Depressed" under my breath.
It comes like a heavy fog that rolls in. There's no control about when or how or why. Depression is a real deal that I've been dealing with for awhile now. And for the past several weeks it's fog has been gone. Really gone. Light and pleasure and smiles and singing have filled my days even in the mundane things that can get a person down. But a few days ago it rolled in again. I felt it. I did a little inventory to see why. Is it a female hormone thing? (Note to self made about what day it fell on the calendar). Did I forget to take my medications? Is it my diet? Am I eating too much junk? Could be any and all of that and more. But this time, when it rolled in, I did not mindlessly keep wandering through the fog. I pulled over and preached to myself. "Self," I said, "Why are you so downcast? Put your hope in God!" And then I sang it. Out loud. In the kitchen.
"Why so downcast oh my soul. Put your hope in God. Put your hope in God. Put your hope in Go-o-o-d. Why so downcast oh my soul. Put your hope in God. And bless the Lord oh my soul. Bless the Lord. He's the lifter of my countenance. Bless the Lord. He's the lifter of my head. Bless the Lord. He's the lifter of my countenance. I will never be ashamed..."
The fog didn't clear. But I was OK with knowing it was there and that, as in the past, it would clear. I'll wait it out. The joy in me is the hope of Christ: He came. He destroyed sin and death's power over me. He is committed to conforming me to the image of the Son and He has given me His Holy Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing that when I see Him, I will be like Him and I will be fully alive and live fully with him perpetually and not one drop depressed. No fog. No sin. That's the joy of Advent. It's massive. It's greater than all our sorrows. It can handle sorrow and depression and loneliness and grief and pain. It knows Who came and Who's coming again.
For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning. -Psalm 30:5
When you wake up at 1 pm after working two night shifts you don't much know what to say or do. But when you sit down to read the news, and you see riots, and genocide, and terror, and then for a split second, you let the reality of the dark things that tempt you to trade everything for temporary pleasures that lead to permanent chains slither into your mind and you shake your head and dash from the horror as fast as you can, one thing becomes very clear: Oh how we need a Savior!!
I'm married to a police officer, so reading about the situation going on in Ferguson is close to home. Seven (I started with two, but more kept coming as I was typing) things come to mind:
1) Police officers have to make split-second, life-or-death decisions and they don't always make the right one. That doesn't automatically mean they're cold, hard, racist, murderers.
2) Police officers have tremendous authority and therefore their decisions (even if made wrongly out of a moment of bad judgement) must be held to the highest scrutiny and standard.
3) Rarely do you hear of a person going about their business, doing good, when a police officer comes up to them out of nowhere and shoots them. That doesn't happen. (Maybe it's happened in history. I don't know. But it's not a frequent news story that's for sure). But in most news stories where an officer either wrongly uses his authority, or makes a bad judgement call that injures or kills someone, the person(s) involved are engaged in some bad/wrong/illegal thing.
4) Missouri needs a peacemaker- A person who will step forward and be willing to suffer to bridge the gap between two opposing parties.
5) Race does not equal wrong doing. A person's actions should not be judged because of their race, but because of their actions. If you're white, black, brown, purple, green, red, yellow or blue and you steal, vandalize, riot, cause fights, etc. your actions are wrong. Period.
6) I hate what has been done to the black person in the name of God or superiority or rights in our history! I hate that the country where I experience so much freedom is the country that built it's economy on the backs of African slaves. I hate that there are still people in this country (and in the world I'm sure) who still look at their fellow man and make a judgement about their worth and intelligence, person hood and trustworthiness based on the color of their skin. I hate it! Those wrongs are not fixed by committing more wrongs.
7) I am white. I will never know what it feels like to be given a suspicious stare because of the color of my skin. When my white, blond boys walk down the street, I don't have to worry that some person in authority may take away their rights, or their life simply because they seem suspicious due to their skin color. I am not a racist. But I am white in a predominantly white culture and I have no idea what it feels like to be suspect simply because of the color of my skin.
----------- The above was written Monday. Below today. ---------------
The situation with ISIS, and the horror of what happened to James Foley, and the horror of what is happening to tens of thousands of people who have been forced out or fled Iraq now eking out an existence in refuge camps or abandoned buildings, slaps me in the face and shakes me right out of the depressive thoughts I deal with every day. I cannot sit in a mire of despondency when I see the video of the marching of thousands of families into the desert and a photo of a terrified man on his knees minutes before his brutal murder on the news. I'm snapped out of my slump in despair onto my knees in desperate prayer. Not only for these people, but for me, and my household and Christ's church in America.
We, I, have no idea what it is like to suffer for our faith or under the macabre rule of violent men who believe they're on a mission from God. We grumble and complain and protest over our rights and against "injustices" that threaten our comfort and ease and beliefs. What will we do if our rights are physically taken away? What will we do if our lives are threatened and our bodies and the bodies of our loved ones are tortured or abused or killed by those in authority over us? Grumbling, complaining and protesting will do no good.
If we can't take up the commands of God through Paul to the church to pray for and show respect to those in authority while we have it so good, how will we if we're in the situation that the church Paul wrote to was in? If Paul told the Christians of his day to pray for their "kings and all in high positions" and treat him with respect, what would he say to us in relation to our current president? What would he say if we were under violent Islamic extremists like ISIS?
"First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for ALL people, for kings and ALL who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. For there is one God and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for ALL... " - 1 Timothy 2:1-6 (emphasis added by me)
I choke on the anger in my throat when I read this. I need this to be my heart if I hope to ever stand amidst true persecution and suffering. Because if my heart is full of revenge and a clinging to my life and rights I won't stand.
I pray that God would take for himself some of the leaders of ISIS. That he would conquer their murderous, evil hearts just as he conquered the murderous, evil heart of Saul... Paul, who wrote:
"... though formerly I was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent. But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost." -1 Timothy 1:13-15
I believe in a sovereign God. I believe in good, sovereign God. I believe he desires all men, even the men of ISIS to be saved from the wrath that is coming against them. And I believe he is working all things, even the evils happening around the world to his people, for the good of those who love Him and for the glory of his name! May he give me the grace to stand.
On a personal note, as I eluded to, I have been struggling through a season of depression for awhile now. And as I said, contrary to what you'd think, these horrible things going on the world are not adding to my depression, they are actually working to pull me out of it. When I think of my brothers and sisters in dark places, suffering for the sake of Christ's name, it puts my "suffering" in proper light and I recall Hebrews 13:3 and pray that God would not let me forget them:
Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body. -Hebrews 13:3
But when the shock of what is going on in the world fades, and I find myself slipping back into the quicksand of lies this depression is surrounding me with, my sole comfort and hope is Christ. The only real escape my thoughts and heart have from the heaviness and despair I'm living with right now is the word of God. His word to me right now is literally like a breath of fresh air caught through a crack in a cave of poisonous gas. I press against the rock and breath deep. But I'm quickly overcome by lies because I can't seem to call the truth to mind when I need to. This is why I need the body of Christ.
We need each other. We need to tell each other the truth.
I met with a neighbor today. We confessed our sins to each other and shared our battles and prayed for each other. We're the same. We need Christ. We need the truth.
I came across this awhile back. I felt like someone understood.
Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord!
O Lord, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentiveto the voice of my pleas for mercy!
If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities,O Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,that you may be feared.I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,and in his word I hope; my soul waits for the Lordmore than watchmen for the morning,more than watchmen for the morning. - Psalm 130:1-6
I came to the end of another journal today. I've kept a journal since I was 9, and I still have all my journals from age 13 on.
Looking back is hard. And some of the reason it's hard is pride. It's flat out embarrassing looking back at some of the things I thought, wrote and did. I look back and know for sure, my God is so merciful and patient and faithful to me, though I have been a liar, a thief, a gossip, sexually immoral, quick to trade Jesus in for a man who would make me feel good, and much more. I've been a coward and a complainer, but Christ has been to me the God-Man, drawing a line in the sand, lifting my head, withholding his right to condemn me, and making me want to go and sin no more!
I'm tired of fighting sin! I long for the day when my thoughts aren't a battle from the moment I open my eyes and depression doesn't suck me in like a black hole. But, by the grace of God, I'll keep fighting the good fight of faith in Christ.
There are so many hurts from the past. Oh, that I would see with eyes of faith; that I would see God's promises kept and Christ's beauty forged in the fires of my life and the aroma of His goodness emanating from my brokenness. Yet, I find at 39, at the end of another journal (one that started as a determination to keep the promise of my youth in marriage and to pray for my husband), that I am a smoldering flame where I thought there was fire. I am a bruised reed when I thought I was a pillar.
And I lift my trembling hands and bend my weak knees and cry out tired prayers and rest all my hope on the One who doesn't put out irritating smoky embers like me or crush cowardly broken reeds like the one I find I am after life's trials thus far.
I wanted to be a "woman of valor", but peering past the obviousness of the condition I find myself in, I see my Lord stirring a flame and splinting what's broken, and a long way off, I catch a glimpse of what I long for: to see Him face to face, and to be made like him, finally fully redeemed.
So I press on. Looking back so I can recall His faithfulness despite my folly, but then forgetting what's behind, because He's given me today. And it's a long obedience in the same direction with the promise that He who began a good work in me, will be faithful to complete it compelling me to put one foot in front of the other.
A bruised reed He will not break, And smoking flax He will not quench; He will bring forth justice for truth. -Isaiah 42:3
Twas the night before my first night shift in postpartum in years and I'm trying not to think about it. As I was driving earlier today, trying to sort out my thoughts and the knot in my stomach and that queasy feeling, it hit me, "All those rules you need to remember, they hang on the law of Christ." All the hospital rules, and policies and procedures and computer programs... when I think about them I feel nauseous and overwhelmed. But when I pause and breath in the truth: I have Christ. All that I need to do to will come as I love my neighbor as myself and bear one another's burdens, fulfilling the law of Christ.
Stress happens. You can be the calmest, coolest, most collected person on the planet, but moving, living in a construction zone with a frustrated and tired handyman DIYing it, starting a new job, and facing the start of a new school year will take its toll on your body. Or at least it will mine. And its a trap to fall for the comfort foods, fast foods and other stuff you can eat that makes you feel better for a little bit. Or at least its a trap for me. Everyday for the past two weeks my hands have been swelling and this week I've been getting sharp shooting pains in my hands/knuckles/fingers when I grip something. To the point I couldn't even pick up a half gallon of milk or my purse. It's better today. I can grip things normally, but my right hand throbs. My body does weird things with stress, sugar and flour.
There is a semblance of order in the house, this side of the staircase anyway. If you walk around the corner you'd think you were in a different house. So as long as I stay on this side, we're good.
I'm fighting the dark cloud that looms over me right now. It seems to come back when I'm sleep deprived, under a heavier than usual load of stress and eating an American-sized portion of sugar and flour. I'm fighting with good, godly sisters holding up my arms, {Being genuine with one another. I think in part that's at least some of what it means to, "...confess your sins one to another that you may be healed," and "... bear one another's burdens."} casting my cares upon Him because He cares for me, and recalling out loud the promise that He is working all things together for good for me, to conform me to the image of His Son.
All things. For good. To make me more like the Son.
I had a dentist appointment yesterday that ended in scheduling two crowns at the cost of $1000! Four of my teeth have old fillings from 1980 something which now have deep fissures. Two of them have been causing me quite a bit of pain.
I had the first eye exam of my life today. Got tired of having a hard time reading without having to extend my arm after about 10 minutes. The unsurprising verdict: I need reading glasses, but my distance vision is good.
Tomorrow I have an appointment for what I think is a torn meniscus in my knee, bursitis in my left hip and a "slipped disc" in my lower back. I think the knee injury I've been living with for the past year has caused un-neccessary wear and tear on my hip, causing the bursitis. And the pain in my hip and knee have caused me to stop squatting and start bending over which has caused the week spot that I always seem to put out on my back to go out again this week.
I don't like going to doctors. I don't like having to try to explain myself and then have them order a battery of tests which show everything is normal. I'd rather just accept the wear and tear on my body, but unfortunately the knee and hip and back are not in agreement. They are not accepting it! I about passed out in the store with the kids the other day when I leaned forward the wrong way apparently and the pain in my back caused me to go to my knees. As I was standing up everything went black. That's when I decided I'd better not just keep ignoring the problem.
My dad has all these maladies. I guess we're alike that way. That and Eeyore. You know the donkey from Winnie the Pooh? My dad and I can be known for our somewhat gloomy and anhedonic mannerisms amongst family and close friends. I think my dad is worse... I think I'm a "healthy" (if that isn't an ironic word) mix of my dad's downright depressing tone and my mom's slightly manic one. Lately I've been feeling "Ohh-kayyy"(in my best Eeyore voice). But tonight Sarah gave me a smile.
Tonight's Jesse Tree reading was Sarah's laughter and naming of Isaac, her very unlikely yet promised-by-God son. I've been feeling a little down in the dumps, but tonight when I read Sarah's line, "God has made me laugh, and all who hear will also laugh with me," (Gen.21:6) I did. I chuckled. I felt a little joy dance in me like a quickening of new life. Despite the discouragement and bitterness and disappointment this fallen world handed Sarah... and me, God has kept His promise. The most unlikely of all: God in the flesh. And He will keep His promise to make me new. One day I will laugh with joy like Sarah at the scandalous grace that has made me a son of God. Now I laugh a little. But then I will belly roll I think... after I've gotten up from being on my face for at least a thousand years.
I might be a little Eeyoreish now, but then I will be a Tigger! And even now, a little bounce rises up in me as I think about what He has done and what He has yet to do. With God, nothing will be impossible!
