I have depression. Which really means that depression has me. It owns me.
Thursday. I wanted to do nothing. A pressure pushed down on my neck and back, bending me over. Breathing became toil. My Bride looked at my expression and knew: Today was a bad day.
I didn’t call up the friendly neighborhood depression salesman and say, “Yeah, Thursday? Could you stop by? I’m a little low on purposeless gloom.” And it’s not even that I forgot to pay the happyman. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t send the check for my monthly supply of glee. Can I make up the difference on next month’s bill?”
Nope. Depression owns me. And Thursday it decided it would be nice to pay a visit to its little slave and maybe hang around for a while. Make sure I didn’t think it was ignoring me.
But I’m a Christian. OK, I’m not supposed to be a grinning idiot at all times. I’m not some megapreacher that always has to look smarmy. I get that. Sadness is a part of being Christian. Jeremiah wrote Lamentations. Martha mourned at the grave of her brother. Christians suffer. It’s part of who we are.
But shouldn’t I have joy, no matter my emotion at the moment? Isn’t that what Paul said? “Rejoice in the Lord always! I say it again: Rejoice!”
Oh, never mind. It’s depression. We’ll just snuff out that joy. Can’t have that around. (more…)