March 2021 marks the turning point of a roughly two-decade journey. I have written about my journey with Depression before. But this... this is new. This is grace. This is healing. This is restoration. This is Marvelous Light.
When I was in middle school you know what I dreamed of being when I grew up? A martyr. No joke! That was my dream. I was going to die telling people about Jesus. Then in high school, I received a very strong calling on my life directly from Ezekiel 3.
"Then He said to me, “Son of man, eat what you find; eat this scroll, and go, speak to the house of Israel.” So I opened my mouth, and He fed me this scroll. And He said to me, “Son of man, feed your stomach and fill your [a]body with this scroll which I am giving you.” Then I ate it, and it was as sweet as honey in my mouth. Then He said to me, “Son of man, [b]go to the house of Israel and speak with My words to them. For you are not being sent to a people of [c]unintelligible speech or difficult language, but to the house of Israel, nor to many peoples of [d]unintelligible speech or difficult language, whose words you cannot understand. [e]But I have sent you to [f]the people who understand you; yet the house of Israel will not be willing to listen to you, since they are not willing to listen to Me."
There's more, but you get the gist. Eat his word, go tell your people. Don't worry if they won't listen. America was my mission ground.
Then depression hit. For those of you who haven't read my other posts, I'll give a quick recap. It was college when I was first diagnosed as having major signs of depression--though looking back, I think it began earlier and was just mistaken for teenage angst. I spent a year in a deep dark place. Then, quite miraculously, depression was ripped off me. But in its wake, it left me broken. I have journals filled with writings and drawings all lamenting this feeling of a festering wound, a bone not set properly, and other various analogies. For the next fifteen or so years, I would have periods of time where I would dip back into depression for various lengths of time; and each time I resurfaced, I feared, even more, the next plunge. It felt like being out at sea treading water. If a storm came, I was going under; and who knew if the next time I'd be able to surface again.
Then, in the fall of 2019, it hit again in full force again and I would stay submerged in its depths for the next two years. I wrestled intensely with feelings of uselessness, hopelessness, pointlessness etc. I lost all ability to care about anything. Just make it to tomorrow became my internal mantra because the truth was, all I wanted to do was lay down and give up. I had no vision for the future, no dreams left. There was nothing I wanted in life other than to stop hurting. I had become a shell of myself. A husk. Will these dry bones ever live again? O Lord, only you know...
Then, Christmas 2020 came. It was probably the single worst day in this two-year stretch. Everything that Christmas is about was lost on me. There was no peace. No hope. No joy. No anticipation, No love. I spoke words of worship that I knew to be true but felt a million miles away. That night I wept--utterly broken. I remember praying, "I know it's your birthday, but when my birthday comes could you please do something? I'm so tired of hurting!" New Years' came and my small group had a gathering. I went more because I knew it would be "good for me" than because I wanted to; looking back I'm so glad that I did! While I was there I had a conversation with a collegiate minister, and as I listened to him talk about his work a tiny flame flickered to life within me. Later, I talked with my mom and started dreaming of what it would look like to connect the collegiate ministry on campus to a local church. The flame grew. I ended up writing to my pastor and setting up a meeting with him to talk about the church's vision for college ministry on... you guessed it! My birthday. For the first time in years, I had something I was passionate about! There was something I actually wanted to do! That was the first step out of the pit.
From there I began to seriously start thinking about my future (something I hadn't done in ages!) I started looking at different job possibilities with hours that would allow me to be a part of the vision that my pastor had laid out in front of me. Then came the IF Conference which is all about discipling women to go take the gospel to their spheres of influence. I'm not sure I can put into words what this conference did for me. So much healing happened and I cannot even begin to explain how or why. The fire that had been kindled and growing erupted into an inferno that burned away all the fear, doubt, self-loathing, and shame. The wound that once festered was healed. The darkness lifted, and I found myself running into marvelous light.
So now I'm sitting here on my couch looking at different opportunities to work with groups fighting sex slavery, or training up and discipling missionaries, or working toward racial reconciliation, or mentoring students who are the next generation. All of them sound amazing and (get this) I am excited and passionate about ALL of them! After nearly two decades, I finally feel like myself again!
I'm still processing through everything, but I can say this: We serve an amazing God. To steal from Elevation Worship, "You turn mourning to dancing You give beauty for ashes You turn shame into glory You're the only one who can. You turn graves into gardens You turn bones into armies You turn seas into highways You're the only one who can." For those of you who find yourself sitting in the pit, I encourage you to find a few friends who will carry you to Jesus. I know that much of the healing in my life came about because of a few people I trusted with the truth who prayed me through this. For those of you who know someone who is in the pit, never stop praying for them! God used depression to break me but then He used it to somehow heal me. That's the kind of God Christians serve.
