Two
days ago, I had the immense privilege of standing in front of my church family
at Life Church and preaching a message titled Don’t Let Depression Rob You of Your Destiny! I had envisioned such a moment at times in the
past—not preaching on depression, but having the freedom to preach on anything. In my heart of hearts, I knew
I had been given a wealth of giftings—and I wanted
to bless others, but depression always told me I couldn’t. I wasn’t “well”
enough; I wasn’t “spiritual” enough (because of the depression); I wasn’t
“worthy;” I just wasn’t. And the even
bigger lie was that I never would be.
With
all the responses I’ve gotten since the message—all appreciative and full of
praise—I have had a lot to thank the Lord for. For the opportunity to share.
For the anointing of the Lord. For the people He specifically brought to hear
the word the Father had put in my heart. For those who were brave enough to
stand, acknowledging that they have been battling depression and want to be free from it.
So
as I was thinking on how far the Lord’s brought me and asking myself what I
should write my next blog about, I felt like the Lord said “Write about that.” Write about depression? But that
seems awfully…well, depressing. I was reminded of parts of my story that I
didn’t share—I mean, I couldn’t keep the congregation there all day! So today in my blog, I’m going to
share a little bit more.
A
good friend said something to me after the service on Sunday that I hadn’t
really thought about. Many times creative
people get attacked with depression. Now, there are many types of
creativity. In my life, these artistic or imaginative gifts have manifested
themselves in many ways—arts and crafts, scrapbooking, teaching ideas, even
organization—but primarily in
writing. When the enemy knows one has a lot to offer—and many different ways in
which to do it, and that it’s going to bless others—he works hard to keep the
creativity from getting out. He looks for ways to keep it from touching the
souls of those God intends for it to bless. Depression, in a sense, is an easy tool for him to use—it carries such
devastation of self-worth with it. It basically negates all creative gifting
with lies like “no one will want to hear that;” “that’s not as good as you want
to think it is;” “big deal—anyone could do that.” The truth is…not anyone could do it—whatever your
creative gifting is, it’s a mantle God placed upon you for a specific purpose
and with a specific flair to it that is unique to you.
I’ve
been a writer since I was a young child, and the Lord knew just what messages
to send to my heart to keep me doing it. When I was nine, I had a reading and
spelling teacher named Mr. Rhenberg. Once when I wrote a story called “Farla
and the Flannel Nightgown,“ he wrote in big, flourishing letters at the top,
“Beautiful story, Teresa.” Those words stamped something in my spirit and
solidified a calling in me from that day forward: I am a writer.
What
the enemy probably didn’t expect is
that I would write through my
depression and that God would even use it as a tool to lift me out of it. Yes,
he may have shut me up at times and even slowed down my timeline (of getting my
written words out to the world), but he has never been able to completely stop
me from writing. And the more I write, the more I feel that call of the Lord
well up within me.
I
mentioned in my “sermon” (really more of a life story) that the enemy had tried
to “take me out” when I was young—a rock being thrown through a window that
almost hit me in the head as a toddler in my playpen; an incident with a window
that cut my wrist and nearly cut my
artery—another I didn’t mention was that at age ten I borrowed a ten-speed
without asking and ended up running into a moving car. I came away with only
bumps and bruises. And at age eleven, I experienced an incident of sexual abuse
(by a stranger whom I never saw again) that, while not life-threatening in the mortal sense, did rob a lot of “life” from me—the enemy tried to use it to rob me
of relationships, and particularly intimacy in relationships. He also used it
to make me feel “dirty” and worthless. That was one of my earliest inductions
into the realm of isolation and self-protection, within the much larger world
of depression.
My
heart was crying out for love, but I searched for it in some futile ways. I
felt “ugly” and “low class.” So I was drawn to that environment—poverty—in
finances, in emotional stability, in connection with God. It was a heist,
designed by the enemy to rob me of everything of value the Lord had placed
within me—a gift to write, a heart to praise, and a desire for close and
intimate relationships.
For
two years, I ignored the voice of the Holy Spirit—I had myself virtually
convinced, in fact, that everything I was doing was “just fine.” I was still a
Christian after all. But my relationship with my parents had taken a dramatic
dive. I didn’t want to hear anything they had to say if it was contrary to the
choices I was making. I told myself that they just wanted to run my life. They
couldn’t see how “mature” I was. Looking back now, I know that my spirit longed
for relationship with them—but at the time, I was not listening to my spirit;
my soul and body were in charge. But each step I took down the path I had
chosen led to shame—and inner discontent and turmoil. I just didn’t want to
acknowledge it.
When
I finally did come to terms with the mess I had made, God clearly illuminated
the way out. It had been there all along, of course. He restored a good
relationship with my parents—and I began to experience joy again. Not fleshly
satisfaction, but actual joy. I was so grateful that God had rescued me. But
never having developed a consistent devotional life (though I’d tried), I still
felt I needed another person to complete me.
I didn’t yet realize how precious I was to God—and that I was complete in Him.
When
I met Byron (whom I’ve been married to for 27 years now), our relationship
raced along—and fairly quickly I knew he was “the one.” The only thing wrong
with it all was that I put him ahead of God. We married a year and two months
after we started dating, and we were happy…except for when my unrealistic
expectations of my husband made me feel unhappy.
I began to focus on circumstances, and as I did so, it was harder and harder to
trust God. The enemy capitalized on this—and I suffered great bouts of depression
at times.
I
was depressed—unfulfilled—feeling I wasn’t important to most people—struggling
to connect with God. But what could I do about it? I have had many people come
into my life who’ve spoken the truth to me, and I’m so thankful for them. I feel
that their words were “like apples of gold in settings of silver,” truly “words
spoken at the right time” (Prov. 25:11, NIV; HCSB). They lifted me out of some
dark times and set me back on a well-lit path.
But
I kept veering off the path—sure, I still prayed (as much as I could) and went
to church (for years in a performance mode). But I kept going back to the
enemy’s words instead of God’s. He would speak a lie that I would receive as
the truth, and it would weaken my resolve to go after what God might have to
say on the matter. I would simply settle for what my mind seemed to be saying was true. But in my spirit…I knew there had to be more. There was a cloud over my life.
It seemed that every time I tried to move out from under it, it would just get
bigger the next time. And I wondered if I’d ever be able to get past it at all.
The
truth about who we are has to go deep, or it won’t have a lasting
effect. For me, it’s been as though truth has been piled little by little, rock
by rock, until the pillar was tall enough that I could finally see over the edge of the pit I’d been in—and step out
onto the grassy surface at the top to breathe the air I was always meant to
breathe. I had to take a huge risk—I had to start believing what God said about
me, and about my circumstances. My
foundation of truth would only be as strong as my belief. Truly the choice came
down to this: was I going to believe the enemy (who’d only worked hard to make
my life miserable in so many areas), or was I going to believe God?
It
has been a long, hard road—but I finally started to get the message—and not
settle for less. Jesus didn’t say, “Come to me, and you will have a life of
lack; deficit will be your portion; you will just have to learn to live with
it.” No! He said, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have
come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10). Not only
did he establish God’s purposes for
us in that one statement—He exposed
the enemy’s! Jesus gave everything
for me; why would I not take Him at His word? And that is where I now choose to
stand. Even if it looks bad, impossible, or scary, I desperately want—no, need—to take Jesus at His word. He will
never lie to me, never give me a stone in place of bread, never leave or forsake
me.
And
He’ll do the same for you. Shut off the rantings and rovings of your brain.
Open your spirit to Him. He is faithful to speak to us—check what you hear with
the truth of His written word if you’re not sure. See if it rings true in your
spirit. But please let Him in! He wants to give you the keys to freedom, and
you can start collecting them today. “"Look! I stand at the door and
knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will
share a meal together as friends” (Rev. 3:20, NLT). It’s up to us to open the
door.
Why write about depression?
Because it matters. God cares where you’re at. He sees you. And He doesn’t want to leave you in the pit.
“Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I
flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my
bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I
settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your
right hand will hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and
the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you” (Psalm
139:7-12). God’s got you—He’s never left, not even in the midst of your
deepest, darkest depression. God is
light, and He is able to illuminate the darkness so that it no longer exists.
You are not hidden from Him, beloved.
Why
write about depression?
Because Satan doesn’t want me to, and because the God who loves you infinitely
is passionate about your freedom. It’s time to open the door—and turn on the
light.
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