My life in the Key of D

It is a typical spring in many ways around our house.  Running kids to some type of practice and watching our kids play sports they love.  We love it too.  And, like everyone else in North Carolina we and all we own are covered with lime green pine pollen.  Huck's eye are a constant shade of red and Chris is once again snoring every night.  And I'm waiting.  Because it hasn't arrived yet.  Perhaps it won't come this year...I'll get a pass and skip directly to summer.  That would be nice.

What am I awaiting?  Sinus infection? No.  Strep?  Been there and done that two weeks ago.   What I am awaiting is my fairly regular seasonal bout with depression.  Most people who struggle with depression struggle more often when its gloomy and cold (read winter), but not me.  Mine seems to bloom out on me just like the flowers in my yard:  in spring.

Our church is doing a series currently about the blues and yesterday's sermon was on depression.  For my money, Mike Flake hit the nail on the head.  I have been struggling on and off with depression for at least 20 years and by far the greatest comfort and hope comes in knowing that God is always present with me.  When I am in the pit and when I am not....I am never alone.

I especially like what he said about how we often see depression as weakness.  One of the cruelest aspects of depression is the shame those that suffer with it feel.  We always feel like we should be able to pull ourselves out of this.  Get going.  We should be grateful for all we have.  We shouldn't be so indecisive or waste so much time doing absolutely nothing....we should...we should...we should...  Perhaps the cruelest words we ever say to ourselves.  And such an enormous lie. 

"We should" is a lie that leads us to further despair and further from the arms of God. "We can't" is the weak, puny truth that brings life back.  We can't   do anything we should by ourselves; we can do only with God, and though God.   And what little or great is done dependent on God is sufficient enough, amen.  I am a strong woman.  But when depression blows through my life it is sometimes all I can do to keep food in the house (I am not even saying I prepare it; and I can't  do this and keep up with laundry).

On those days my life is reduced to the basics and my prayers become how to get through the day.  Do A, then B, then C.  Sometimes I can't even decide this on my own; at which point the woman who use to run a very successful branch of a small business calls her best friend.  I tell him my dilemma and he tells me what to do with a kindness that doesn't besmirch my already tattered dignity.  And I do A with God's help and do B with God's strength, and I try not to think about all the times I have done A and B and it was so easy that I never even thought to ask God to come along for the ride.

On these long days God's presence is EVERYTHING.  It makes me feel known and not completely alone.  It is like a shawl that I can wrap around me for comfort and to hide beneath...because the longing to hide and be invisible is great.  He allows me to be proud to have brought home groceries even if I forgot the bread (which is why I went to the store in the frist place).  I can feel proud because I walk with him doing the very little, puny, insignificant thing he calls me to and then strentghens me to do.  Today it is all I can do.  Yesterday I may have moved a mountain, but he reminds me that that was yesterday.  He hasn't called me to move a moutain today; just to go to the store and don't give up.  Tomorrow will be another day.  Maybe it will be another mountain moving day, but maybe we will just go to the store.  It won't matter because we will do it together, and this dependent obedience is all he asks of me anyway.  It's all he asks of everyone of us.

There is so much more I could say about this profound journey I walk in the key of D. But if I could leave behind bread crumbs for those coming up behind me, it would be this.  God's presence, the Immanuel, is EVERYTHING, and it is enough.