Back Into The Light

I stayed home from church this morning; the little guy is not feeling well. I think there my be a little exaggeration in the "not feeling well" part, but sometimes I just let it slide. We have all been sharing the germs here over the last two weeks and actually, a rest at home for me this morning felt nice too.

I don't like being sick. Ever. But then I read about people who have it so much worse and are quite critical and I think, "Yeah, I can handle a little flu". I am thankful for my family's overall good health. Yes, we get the "normal" stuff and the occasional not-so-normal rash (ever hear of a Christmas Tree Rash?), but in the end, we function.

The past couple days, for me, have been more of an internal sickness that no one can see. I have mentioned before about my struggles with depression over the years, and even though I have so many more "good" days than I used to, I still have days that this heavy blanket of darkness threatens to smother me.

I don't know why. I don't know where it came from this time, but there it was. Silent. Dark. Looming. Waiting to catch me at my most vulnerable moment.

I didn't want to write. I didn't want to do anything, but yet I wanted to feel alive. I wanted to feel something. I felt trapped in this lonely place. I didn't want to be there, I just felt like I didn't know where the door was to get out. Depression can be very ugly.

The door to get out. For me, the key to open that door varies. Sometimes, it's music. Sometimes, a person just asking if I am okay, someone who knows me and recognizes that I am trapped. Loves me in spite of it because I am not always lovable when I am in this place. I am harsher in my judgements and meaner in my words, which only adds to the guilt and suddenly I am locked in even tighter.

Bad mom. Bad wife. Bad Christian. The negative mantra plays over and over in my head like a stuck recording. I need to find a way out, even as I hear the lock click in place as one more padlock with chains is added to the door.

"Be still and know that I am God" A tiny lock falls away.

"His mercies are new every morning" I repeat this to myself, and this begins to replace the broken record I had been playing.

"Dare you to move, dare you to move, I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor..." Switchfoot plays in my head, and I take one step, then another and another. Left, right, breath. You are made for more than this. Left, right, breath.


Psalm 107:14-16  (NIV)
14 He brought them out of darkness, the utter darkness,
    and broke away their chains.
15 Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love
    and his wonderful deeds for mankind..."

I am tired of dragging around these chains, so tired. I toss one aside, then another. Then I stretch my arms out and I shake the rest off until I am free. The door is open and is that a glimmer of sunshine?

Depression is ugly. I have come a long way from living under that darkness almost every day. Now, I have clumps of days, random days that are far apart and oh, you better believe I am thankful for that. I am glad I can find my way out, even if it takes some time. But in that darkness, God is always there. His presence is palpable. His breath is warm on my face. I am aware like I am not any other time of how real He is.

I step into the light. The dark days are part of who I am and I may always have to deal with them, but I will deal with them. But never alone, never alone.

Love,
Dianne