Depression sucks so much. It’s messy and scary and overwhelming.
But this season of my life is allowing me to experience the mercy and gentleness of God more potently than I ever have before.
I want to blame myself for how I feel, thinking if I just read my Bible more or dedicated more time to prayer or identified some secret sin in my life, I would be fine.
God’s been teaching me, though, that it doesn’t work that way.
I was washing the dishes yesterday, and I had some music on. Jesus was hanging out with me. When it got to the chorus, all of a sudden he was jamming out with me. I got lost in the song with him for a little bit. When it was over, Jesus told me if that was the only time we truly connected that day, it was okay; he understood and he wasn’t mad or upset with me.
I started crying. I’ve always been unbelievably critical and hard on myself, especially when it involves depression. And here Jesus comes, doing whatever the heck he wants, like always.
I love it. I love him. And I love what is good.
It’s a scary thought, but maybe I will struggle with depression my whole life. God’s been teaching me that even so, it won’t keep me from being a part of His kingdom on earth or in heaven.
An older woman I volunteer for, who has been a social worker for years likes to throw in, “It doesn’t take a degree to be human,” whenever she is giving me advice for my schooling.
In the same way, it doesn’t take being depression-free to follow Jesus, be a recipient of his unconditional love, or be useful to him.
I believe that. Or at least I’m starting to.