A gust of icy wind (on Depression)

I (re)learned something this week. Maybe if I write it down I will remember it forever.

The energy to clean my kitchen and smile at my children

can vanish in an instant.

The energy to clean my kitchen and smile at my children

is not a given.

The energy to clean my kitchen and smile at my children

is precious when I have it.

The energy to clean my kitchen and smile at my children

is not the reason I am loved.

Fall. My favorite tree is bright red and I can see it out of our kitchen window.

Lovely, deep red predominates, but the second glance reveals orange, yellow, and even green toward the middle.   The blue October sky as a backdrop-- it is a breathtaking sight.

Today I sit in a lawnchair by this tree.

The wind is gentle, but a strong burst comes, and it begins.

The stripping.

Red leaves cascade around me. Lovely, for a moment, but I see what is happening.

The stripping.

I think of this stripping, and how I have felt it in my own heart.

My patience, my energy, my zeal for life-- it is shocking how it can all just vanish. When the cold hands of depression reach up and grab me by the ankles, what else can I do?  I fall on my face, and all of my beautiful leaves fell off into the grass. There in the pit, I am left with nothing but my own filthy rags.

I cannot get up and clean the kitchen. I have no sincere smile for my children.

They are unsettled, and I am unsettled, and bare.  And so very cold.

A leaf lands on my computer. What was glorious and red from a distance now reveals to me its imperfections. Rotting spots. Discoloration.  

The stripping continues.

Unlike the tree, I do not stand still and accept the gusts of wind.  It hurts too much, so I question God’s work, His presence. I do not know whether to repent or fight or cower or quit, so I try to do everything at once, until I collapse, exhausted.

And then, the seasons change, orchestrated by the loving hand of my Father.  

The climate changes, and suddenly, I can feel the sun again.

I did not make the season change again. I cannot call up the sun. But today, it shines, and as it shines God fills in the coldest parts of my heart, sending the truth of His love that I already know down deeper, deeper.

As for me, I am poor and needy

but the Lord takes thought for me

He is my help and my deliverer 

(Psalm 40:17)

He who directs the seasons also directs my ways, even when I do not understand them.

In this, I can rest.

Weak and Loved.

Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.

Hide us in Your Word, in Christ, that we may weather all seasons. Amen.

If you know exactly what I'm talking about, read all of Psalm 40.
Click here for more of my thoughts on depression

re-posted from 11/2013
re-lived often.