depression – Sheila Dougal

Man shall not live by Prozac alone

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In March, Fathom Mag published an article I wrote about my own struggle to concede my need for an anti-depressant. A wise pastor and friend helped me to see that medication was not an alternative to provision from God. It was a provision from God.

I’ve been taking Prozac for a couple years now and it has helped me function at a more healthy level. But my depression didn’t go away with antidepressants. I still wake up feeling somewhere on a scale between numb to hopeless for no apparent reason. Some seasons of depression the darkness is thick and paralyzing. Sometimes, despite it’s disorienting fog, I can still hear the birds and walk step by step in the light I have. Medication and counseling have both helped me function through times of depression. But nothing has re-lit the smoldering ash pile in my heart like God’s word.

We Are Not Just Souls

We are not just souls. We are bodies too. The gnostics believe in transcending the body to reach a higher deified goodness too good for all things physical. But Christians don’t, or shouldn’t believe that. Although I think we often do, which is part of the reason why I’m not the only Christian who’s had a hard time accepting medications for help with a mental health problem.

We believe in a risen Christ. He isn’t floating around in some ethereal existence. He has a body. A scarred body. And we believe we too will be raised into an ever-living body like his. Our God dwelt among us in a body. He ate, slept, suffered and died. And he walked on physical, resurrected feet out of a sealed tomb.

We Are Not Just Bodies

Just as we are physical, we are also spiritual beings. We need food and water and sometimes medication. But we also need God. We need his word. We need to hear him and talk with him. We need relationship with him.

Prozac has helped my physical need for serotonin. But God’s word has been my rock when, despite the medication, my world feels like sinking sand. God’s word has been the light I know is there even though I can’t see it. God’s word has been my hope when I feel numb. God’s promises have been my assurance when I feel alone. God’s word has given me words, fruit of lips as it were, so I can praise my Redeemer when I feel blank. My feelings will never match the worth of Jesus, so even when I feel nothing, when I speak God’s word out loud, I acknowledge the truth with my broken body and spirit.

When Jesus, hungry from 40 days of fasting, was tempted, he didn’t say, “Man shall not live by bread alone but by every word that comes from the mouth of God,” because we’re not supposed to eat. Jesus went on to eat bread, but he depended upon God’s word to overcome the spiritual testing he was going through. And in this life, full of testings of our faith, depression being one of them, we need food, and sometimes Prozac. But we cannot counter the temptation to give into faithlessness with antidepressants alone. Just as we need food for our bodies, and may need antidepressants for our ill brains, we need God’s word to withstand the temptation to let depression win.

There are many passages of scripture that are helpful in depression. But here are four key passages I recall and repeat when I find myself in it’s fog.

1. Psalm 42. The whole chapter is helpful, but particularly these words:

Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.

When I’m depressed this psalm forces me to question myself and preach to myself. Sometimes it’s all I can say. And between the question I ask my soul and the answer I tell myself I am helped to press on in the fog.

2. Romans 8: 28-39 All ten verses… but these clips really spark a flame of hope in me.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose…

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?…

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

There is so much help here. These words stare depression in the face and say, “Do what you will, but you only serve her. She’ll conquer you. Because she’s mine. Christ died for her, and lives for her. Nothing, not even your poison, can separate her from my love.”

3. Micah 7:8-9

Rejoice not over me, O my enemy;
when I fall, I shall rise;
when I sit in darkness,
the Lord will be a light to me.
I will bear the indignation of the Lord
because I have sinned against him,
until he pleads my cause
and executes judgment for me.
He will bring me out to the light;
I shall look upon his vindication.

Depression is not sin. But I am a sinner. Depression is not a form of God’s indignation I’m made to bear. But my brokenness, the world’s brokenness, including depression, is all the result of sin in God’s image bearers. When I sit in the deep darkness of depression I can remind myself, and my enemy, that Christ is my light. And one day I’ll be free from this darkness and see his vindication.

4. Psalm 143. Again, the whole thing. But these words are poignant.

Answer me quickly, O Lord!
    My spirit fails!
Hide not your face from me,
    lest I be like those who go down to the pit.
Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love,
    for in you I trust.
Make me know the way I should go,
    for to you I lift up my soul.

This is the prayer of the depressed. God has given me something to pray when I can’t smith together a petition of words. This says exactly how I feel when depression comes- like those who go down to the pit. And this helps me remember what I need even more than medication- to hear the word of God. To hear him say, “I love you.”

Depression, my servant

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you came abruptly
i was fine
did i let you in?
you don’t answer questions

you invade
change the chemistry
like gas
an undetected trap

but now i know you’re here
now i know
and i’ll hold my breath
or poke my head outside instead

i know you want to lull
me to sleep
you want to take away my expression
and numb me

so i’ll move quietly
out back and throw the ball
I won’t open my mouth
won’t let your poison leak out

alone where no one can ask
i’ll say out loud
truths your ether
can’t attack

you can’t asphyxiate
the Man of Sorrows
he swallowed you once and for all
promised my tomorrows

Christ in me
Christ in my eyes
Christ in my mind
impermiable to your lies

Patrick’s words
I’ll chant aloud
no preach
and if i have to, shout

you didn’t ask
you came right in
but you’re not my master
you serve me to win

I don’t want to write about depression

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I’ve been struggling since Thursday when we left the lodge at Hannagan Meadow. I thought I was just bummed because we were leaving, but the heavy sadness in my face and chest hasn’t left since Thursday. I’ve been irritable, tired, on the verge of tears and numb. It’s depression. I hate it.

I hate it that my husband and kids ask, “What’s wrong?” because they say I’m acting strange. I hate it that I’m crying with my kids in the car and have to tell them why… and there is no good reason. I hate that I go to church and spend most of the service praying, “God please let me feel something! Please restore the joy of my salvation!” I hate it that people at church greet me with, “Hi Sheila, how’s it going?” And I automatically respond, “Fine. Thanks,” and hope they don’t inquire more. I hate it that I hide in the bathroom with my hands in my face because I just don’t want to talk to anyone. I hate it that I know the lady sitting next to me is going through hard things and I feel so empty. I want to reach out to her, but feel like I have nothing to give.

It’s depression and I hate it. I hate writing about it. I don’t want to write about it.

But one thing I’ve found to be true: If I bring depression out into the light, if I talk about it, write about, not try to hide it, it becomes my servant and not my master.

Yesterday, the tears hit while I was in the car with my boys. I was staring blankly out the window, the uneasy feeling of nothing matters heavy behind my eyes. Aware that my sons were there in the silence and were silent too. Probably feeling like something’s wrong. I didn’t want them to have to bear the heaviness of their mom’s heaviness so I grabbed my depression by the hand and drug her out into the light.

“Guys, I just want you to know I’m feeling sad the past few days, and I don’t really know why except this happens to me sometimes. It’s just depression. It shows up and I don’t like it and it makes me feel blah and irritable and down in the dumps and sad and I start crying really easy and I just want you guys to know it’s not you. It’s not your fault. It’s not because of you that I feel this way. It’s just a struggle your mom has and God is using even this to make me more like Jesus.”

“Ok mom.” They said in an understanding voice.

I don’t know why so many people experience depression. I’m sure it’s a combination of our sin and other people’s sin and the decomposing world we live in. But it’s a reality. And the more I try to pretend it’s not real and not a struggle, the more I feel ashamed about it and the more it has it’s hold on me. But when I bring it out into the light of the internet, or in a conversation, it looses it’s grip. In the light, I can look at depression through the eyes of my good and sovereign God and see how it’s serving to make me cling to Jesus, be vulnerable with others and have compassion on people with mental illness.

Mental illness effects everyone. If you’re like I was, you might think it doesn’t effect you and you might wonder why I don’t just pull myself up by the bootstraps and press on. I have felt that way many times. And some days I can preach myself right out of a pit. But when depression has hold of me there are no bootstraps to grab. Only light to shine.

I can’t pull myself up, but I can say here on my blog- I’m struggling. I can tell my kids, “Mom’s sad and it’s not your fault.” I can tell the lady at church, “I’m tired.” I can stop hiding this unwanted companion’s presence in my life.

I didn’t want to write about depression today. I wanted to write some uplifting, encouraging message for someone. But maybe someone needs to hear someone else say, stop hiding. Grab depression by the hand and drag her out into the light. Even if she has to come with tears and awkward confessions of, “I’m struggling.” In the light her hopeless whispers may not completely go away, but there in the light, to your need and mine truth can be spoken. In the light we can hear, “Hope in God.”

Christ is a great hope for people who live with depression. And even on days like today when I feel numb, I still go to Christ for life and hope. I still pick up that torn bread and juice of crushed fruit and long for the new life he who walked through hell for me is bringing.

If you’re reading this and you walk a road mostly darkened by depression, I pray you’ll turn to the Man of Sorrows with me. He is our hope. He knows our pain. His words are life. He is with us. We are not alone.

‘ He uncovers the deeps out of darkness and brings deep darkness to light.’ Job 12:22

“…even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you. Psalms 139:12

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” John 1:5

“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” John 8:12

“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” Romans 8:37-39

3 Things To Do When Depression Sets In

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That old familiar fog started setting in yesterday. Fog is the most tangible comparison I know of for what depression feels like. Life is going along just fine and suddenly like a thick fog at ground level, the kind that happened in Oregon where I grew up, depression sets in. You can’t see the hope that compelled you, a day, an hour before. You have to slow down to a snail’s pace and fight the urge to pull over, putting the brakes on life.

I’ve found when that uneasy disdain, sense of hopelessness and vision-choking fatigue creep in, these things help me to pass through the fog of depression and not just stop everything.

Exercise. Even if that means going for a walk, but preferably, hard, heart-pumping exercises. I’m not a fitness guru, but there’s no doubt that exercise helps people with depression. It helps everyone, but when you’re depressed, exercise produces endorphins which act like a built in dose of prozac for the human body. God knew what he was doing when he made us that way. It’s good to exercise, even if all you can muster is a walk down the street. Sometimes just walking outside in my yard makes me feel better. But I’ve found when I make myself go to the gym, and I do some heart-pumping workout, I leave the gym feeling like the fog has cleared, and I might make it through the day.
I talk to myself. And that’s not a crazy thing to do. It’s actually what we all do all the time. We tell ourselves messages without saying them out loud. But when I feel depressed, the voice in my head doesn’t have anything hopeful to say. So I’ve found when I take the Psalms, which are full of struggles with fear, anger, depression, sadness, hopelessness, grief…all the stuff we all deal with, and I open my mouth to say aloud, “Why so downcast oh my soul? Put your hope in God!” some light shines through the fog. The poisonous lies of depression’s hopelessness need to be countered with an out-loud challenge to hope in God. A lot of times when I start feeling depressed it’s because I’ve had hope in someone, or some circumstance, that failed to meet my expectations. The lie of depression is that there is no hope because… fill in the blank. But the truth is God will never abandon me. He will always work all things, even depression, for my good to conform me to the image of his son. I need to preach that message out loud to myself and send Wormwood’s dulling whispers to their place.
Sing or play music. I’m not a good singer and certainly when I’m depressed I don’t feel like singing. But the times when I’ve closed my eyes, squeezed the tears that barely want to fall, and started singing an old hymn such as It Is Well With My Soul, or Great Is Thy Faithfulness, the tears are freed to flow and the lament of my heart wells up into praise of the One who has all things under control and cares very much about me. And when I can’t even open my mouth for the heaviness upon me, sometimes I’ll play the tracks of those hymns on my phone and let the tears fall.

And if you don’t feel like you can do any of those things, maybe reading this you’ll at lease be able to mouth, “Amen.” You’re not a lone.

Lord hear our silence, see our state and visit us with light and hope in Christ.

As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When shall I come and appear before God?
My tears have been my food day and night, while they say to me all the day long, “Where is your God?”
These things I remember, as I pour out my soul: how I would go with the throng and lead them in procession to the house of God with glad shouts and songs of praise, a multitude keeping festival.
Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.
My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar.
Deep calls to deep at the roar of your waterfalls; all your breakers and your waves have gone over me.
By day the Lord commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life.
I say to God, my rock: “Why have you forgotten me? Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?”
As with a deadly wound in my bones, my adversaries taunt me, while they say to me all the day long, “Where is your God?”
Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.’

Psalms 42

These articles are also helpful:

10 Resolutions for Mental Health

Battling Depression Together

My relationship with the Jesus I’ve never seen but love

If I was one of the disciples who followed Jesus while he walked on this planet, I would have been one he looked at and said, “Oh ye of little faith. Why do you doubt?” (Matthew 14:31, 6:30, 8:26, 16:8, 17:20).

My faith-relationship with this Jesus I’ve never seen but love (1 Peter 1:8), is overwhelmingly more held together by Jesus than it is by me. In fact, it’s totally held together by Jesus. If he let go, I would fall deep into the waters of unbelief and drown.

But he has me. Me of little faith. He has me like he had Peter. And like Peter I look at this Jesus in the Bible, out there walking on the stormy waters of my life, in total control, bringing me peace in the midst of my turmoil, building up our relationship by increasing my trust in him, and I get a rush of faith. I believe him. I know that I know that I know that he’s got this. I trust him so much in those moments that I ask him to let me walk out there with him, in the miraculous place of not be ruled by my circumstances.

He smiles. Glad I asked. Says, “Come out here daughter!”

I climb out of my safe little boat- sleeping in, to-do lists, schedules, meal plans, exercise routines, Bible devos…all the things I do to try and keep some order and safety in the midst of the troubling waters that threaten to destroy. Those dark waves of depression, hard marriage, challenging teenagers, pressures from outside and pressures from within engulf me. All the time. And it’s good to have a boat to keep those things from ruining. But it’s even better to walk where Jesus is, with all that threatens under his feet.

I start making my way to Jesus. I choose prayer over a little extra sleep. I choose meditations on scripture before I plow into my to-do list. I choose words of life over criticism and jabs when I feel hurt. But most days, just a few seconds into those steps of faith I realize, “I’m walking on water! I’m trusting in someone I have no control over!” And I start to doubt. “He might let me sink! I can’t handle all these hopeless attacks that come with depression. I can’t make my husband love Jesus with me. I can’t make my sons want to follow Jesus for themselves. I can’t handle all these pressures in life…. I can’t!” And just like that, I’m under water, struggling to come up for air.

Disoriented by the waves of my hopeless, unbelieving thoughts, I kick my legs, push water with my arms, trying with all my might to find my way to the surface. And there I feel his warm, strong hand in the cold, violent waters grabbing my flailing arms, pulling me with his steady strength to the surface. There, drenched in unbelief, I cling grateful to this Jesus I’ve never seen.

The metaphor of me, walking on water with Jesus, and sinking in fear and doubt, plays out in my day to day.

The other day, I woke up late after working three long twelve hour shifts at the hospital, hurried to wake my teenage son, and went about my morning routine at a faster clip. In thirty minutes or less I read the Bible verse of the day on my phone, made my son a quick breakfast to-go, slipped on some shoes and drove him to school in the dark. We drove in silence while I prayed for words of life to speak to my strong-willed son who’s been resisting boundaries since he found out how to escape his crib at 11 months of age. None came to mind.

We pulled up in silence to the high-school at the coldest point in the morning, when the sun’s light just begins to drive out the darkness. “Ok, I’ll see you this afternoon at your game son. I love you.” He mumbled, “Thanks mom” climbed out of the car, threw his backpack over his shoulder and made his way into the institution that will not teach him about this Jesus I’ve never seen but love. I sighed a pleading prayer and started driving home.
On my way back home burning tears welled up, my throat tightened, I felt like I couldn’t breath. I was sinking. “How will he ever believe?! What if he never believes?! Why can’t I think of any life-giving things to say to him? I’m doing nothing for him…” And then I felt the strong grip of God’s faithfulness yank me out of my faithlessness. The remembrance of God’s sovereignty in the stories of Joseph’s betrayal, Moses’ call, Ruth’s redemption, Daniel’s answered prayers… and Peter’s restoration came to mind. And my tears flowed with thankfulness. This Jesus I’ve never seen whispered to my heart, “Oh you of little faith. Why do you doubt? Remember who I am. Remember what I’ve done.”

“I am the Lord your God, who rescued you out of slavery to your sin. I am the one that made you able to want me in the first place. I am the one who gave life to your body and made you born from above. I am the one who took out your heart of stone and gave you a tender heart to love me. I am the one who teaches you and guides you and will never leave you or forsake you. I am the one who began this good work in you and I will be faithful to complete it. I am the one who invites you to bring your children to me. I am the one hears your prayers and gives good gifts. I am God. Nothing is impossible for me!”

This is everyday real life for me as a Christian. I heard the old old story. I believed it. And now everyday I go about my daily life with a heart that beats with tender-love for this Jesus I’ve never seen, and the people he’s put around me. But I forget so easily what He’s done for me. I forget that He’s the one who made my hope in him possible in the first place. And I start to sink. Even still I’ve found he’s always there, pulling me out of death into life, over and over and over again. This history I have with this Jesus I’ve never seen but love is proving to me that not only did I believe in him in the first place because he miraculously gave me a heart to have affections for him, but every day I will only continue to believe in him because his strong arm is holding me.

Jesus saved me. He saves me daily. He’s my hope for waking up tomorrow and still trusting him. He’s my hope for the human-impossibility that my husband and sons will see his worth and love him. For with us it’s impossible. But with God, nothing will be impossible. He will keep holding our relationship together until I see him one day face to face. And then, oh finally then, I’ll never sink in the waters of unbelief again.

No Bootstraps To Grab

(photo credit)

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!

No Bootstraps To Grab

by Sheila Dougal

It’s sunny outside

A record high

Ninety-one

In the Valley of the Sun

But in my mind

It’s foggy and dull

A familiar low

In the Valley of the Shadow

Circumstances

May look nice

Facebook smiles

Twitter likes

But when the fog rolls in

Circumstances grow dim

I need a light

My feet in sight

Word of God

Light to my path

Fog can’t see in

Without faith solid

But faith is a gift

Can’t muster it up

No bootstraps to grab

Abba I plead

I won’t let up

It’s messy!

Like Jacob

Won’t let go till you bless me

But sunshine and rainbow

Aren’t my request

Just give me faith

To endure Depression’s test

Substance

Something real

A promise to hold

Shine light at my heels

Advent Day 20: Waiting For God

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.

My theory on fizzle and fade

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.

Quieted,

Sheila

Advent meditation: Joy

(That was a sunrise a week or so ago.)

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

Quieted,

Sheila

Because I work night shift and my soul is in a night shift and I’m a watchman

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.

//player.vimeo.com/video/48815554

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord!

O Lord, hear my voice!

Let your ears be attentive to 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 Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning. – Psalm 130:1-6

Prayerfully,

Sheila