Where is my hope?

The other day I had a nice post written about my measly self and life. I thought, "Oh this is actually pretty good. I should save it just in case." But I didn't. Then the power suddenly went out. So much for that.

I am hurting for loved ones right now. Especially my beautiful cousin Becca who lost her third baby. I can't imagine what pain she must feel so I am crying out to God to comfort her like no one can. Then there's my friend Kat whose brother was murdered a week ago. I was reading some tributes to her brother Leo this morning. He was only 22 years old. I just can't believe what kind of f'ed up world we live in. And I am trying to hang on to hope. If not for me, at least for my sweet dear cousin who doesn't deserve any of this crap. Or for a family whose wonderful brother and son was violently, tragically ripped from their lives...

I was feeling pain earlier. But now it's deadness. Like it's not even me writing. I don't really know if I am sad. Because it is kind of no emotions. None of the stress I am dealing with can compare to the pain of these two wonderful women and the people closest to them. But comparing doesn't help I suppose.

I don't really want to talk about me and my drama with messed up relationships and lack of knowledge of self.

When listening to some of my favorite songs, I, like I often do, wondered: Do I even believe this? "He has been there before/He will be there again" and other songs with a similar Jesus-will-never-forsake-you theme. Sometimes I wonder if I am Christian, because when Greg Boyd (my pastor) says to imagine Jesus in your head, I can't. How am I supposed to know what he looked like? And I wonder if maybe Jews could get into heaven even they don't believe in Jesus. That makes me feel like a heretic.

I want to turn the world off and focus on hope and life. The only way I can do that is if I have Someone to hope in. For all my life, I've hoped in Christ because I was told to; I always wondered if I was doing it right. I don't want to hope because I'm told to. I want to hope because it's all I can do. I don't know if it's my own evil self or something evil putting thoughts in my head that I can't trust Jesus. Because look at all the people that kill themselves who were Christians...

Okay sorry for that tangent. It's like this: I trust God but Jesus is kind of distant. I know they are one and the same and Jesus is supposed to be "God visible" but I don't feel that. All I see is his Awesomeness in nature and his Beauty in people. I don't feel Him right now in this moment. Jesus. Sitting next to me as I cry for everyone who is hurting, yelling at Him: Where are you?????

What if I am Never Healed?

I recently finished this book. There are some profound things in here. I have always admired Lincoln because I believe we are very similar. He also has given me hope. If I, someone with depression, could achieve something an iota of what he achieved while suffering, I would consider my life great. Probably the most profound thing was found on page 156. The author, Joshua Wolf Shenk, states, (bolded, mine):

Many popular philosophies propose that suffering can be beaten simply, quickly, and clearly. Popular biography often expresses the same view. Many writers, faced with unhappiness of a heroic figure, make sure to find some crucible in which that bad feeling melted into something new. Lincoln's melancholy doesn't lend itself to such a narrative. No point exists after which the melancholy dissolved...Whatever greatness Lincoln achieved cannot be explained as a triumph over personal suffering. Rather it must be accounted for as an outgrowth of the same system that produced that suffering. This is not a story of transformation but one of integration. Lincoln didn't do great work because he solved the problem of his melancholy. The problems of his melancholy was all the more fuel for the fire of his great work.

This was not something I heard for the first time, but an idea that has been rolling over into my head these past few months (and maybe even years): Can I live a successful life with depression? Or do I continually feel I need to eradicate depression from my life before I can live?

Well the truth is that I already am. That is, I already am living with depression. I have no choice at this point. This was made even more real to me after listening to Greg Boyd's sermon (I listened to the pod cast since I missed the service.) It was entitled "Communion in the Wilderness." Based on Luke 22:7-20, the Communion Supper, Boyd talked about the space in between when we take communion and when we finally arrive in heaven. He called it the Wilderness, like the Israelites experienced before they arrived in the Promised Land. He had a member of the church, Scott, come up and talk about his experience with MD (muscular dystrophy). Scott talked about how his whole life people would "pray over him" for healing, but he was never healed. In fact, his MD just worsened. Now Scott has come to the point where he has accepted his MD and when people ask if they can pray for him, he kindly says, "Thanks, but I don't believe that is what God has for me at this point."

Wow! Like Scott, I have been told in so many words that my life would be so much more amazing if I was healed, in my case, from depression. NO kidding??!!!?? I have always struggled thinking I have lack of faith because I continue to suffer. Like Scott, I often felt people were saying it was MY fault that I wasn't healed.

On the other hand, am I just giving in to this depression because I am too weak to fight it?

Because of what GOd has been saying to me personally and through this book, this sermon and through the words of many people who, like me, haven't found supernatural healing, I have come to believe this: It is okay that I suffer from depression; and that I may have to take meds my whole life. Each time my depression gets better , I often think, this will be the last time. But now I am starting to think, each time I go through another depression, I will come out a stronger person. And without my depression, I wouldn't be the sensitive, bright, caring person that I am.

Not saying, I wouldn't take away my suffering or that of others' in a heartbeat. But what choice have I right now, except to live in and through what has been given to me? And who knows, maybe like Lincoln, I will accomplish something great, and my depression will be a part of that.