Tag Archives: Depression

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Isaiah 38

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God is my belayer. It seems it was good for me to go through all those troubles. Throughout them all you held tight to my lifeline. You never let me tumble over the edge into nothing. Isaiah 38:17 (MSG)

I have, on a handful of occasions, gone rock climbing. I went through very basic classes to learn safety and had the experience of working my way up a few simple rock faces. I enjoy it, though sIowa does not provide a plethora of rock climbing opportunities, so I haven't actively pursued it.

Even on a man-made climbing wall, however, you can find yourself high in the air. Your muscles ache and begin to spasm from the unique tension and demand that climbing puts on them. It would be easy to fall. That's why you should always be tied to a belayer who can ensure that, in the event of a fall, you will not fall far.

We all see our share of troubles in this life. It is a part of the journey. We live in a broken world with other broken people and we are bound to experience the effect of it. Sometimes life feels like a rough climb up a sheer face of nothing but troubling obstacles. But when God is our belayer we can trust that  He holds the life-line and will not let us fall to our death. We may lose our grip and slip down the face of the cliff, but God holds tight so that we can approach the rock face once more, find our grip and begin the ascent again.

photo courtesy of wikipedia

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Isaiah 25

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Divine appointment at the airport bar. "And here on this mountain, God will banish the pall of doom hanging over all peoples, The shadow of doom darkening all nations. Yes, he'll banish death forever." Isaiah 25:7 (MSG)

Flying through Denver International airport last night, I sat and had dinner at the bar of a restaurant on the B Concourse where I could watch the Cubs get pounded by the Mets (being a Cubs fan requires a lot of faith). It was there that I met Joe, who was quite drunk and sitting to my immediate left. I instantly liked Joe. He seemed like a nice enough guy, even in his inebriated state. He was friendly and charismatic. Joe had been at the bar a long time. He'd missed two flights already according to the lengthy description of his day.

Joe talked a lot, and I got to know him quite well as I ate my caesar salad. He made his first million in Iowa. Joe had everything, it would seem. He was healthy and looked much younger than his early fifties (He thought we were the same age, and told me I looked much older than my age. Sometimes drunk people just can't filter things the way they should.). Joe was good looking. He clearly had a ton of money and all that it could buy. There were, however, two things Joe clearly did not have. He did not have a friend (I was it), and he did not have peace. Joe was alone. Joe had "the pall of doom hanging over all peoples." His spirit was tortured. I could see it in his eyes. It was in his posture. I heard it in his slurred words.

I listened to Joe's story. I learned of his many broken relationships. He told me about his inability to perform sexually with his young girlfriend. His life was a total mess. All the money and success were worthless to provide that which he truly needed. He was an empty shell of a man medicating himself from the pain of his soul. I tried to be a good friend and love Joe well in the few minutes that our lives touched.

Today, I'm praying for my friend Joe. I'm grateful for God's amazing grace in my own life, which I do not deserve. I'm thankful that Jesus came to banish death and it's morbid pall. I'm praying that I will be an instrument of God's peace, that where there is despair I can sow hope, and where there is darkness I can shed light.

Even at the bar on Concourse B.

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and drh

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Psalm 142

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The best Birthday present of all. Your people will form a circle around me and you'll bring me showers of blessing! Psalm 142:7b (MSG)

Last weekend we attended the birthday party for a young friend who was turning three years old. We sat with a veritable hoarde of family and friends to eat cake, drink punch, and watch him open his gifts. After opening each gift, his parents reminded him to go and hug each of the people who gave him the gift. Hugs for grand parents. Hugs for great-grandparents. Hugs for aunts. Hugs for uncles. Hugs for friends.

On the way home from the party, my wife, daughter and I commented on our young friend's large "circle of love." His three-year-old brain is just developing cognitive memory. It's likely he will forget 99 percent of the memories of that day. The presents he received, which were the highlight of his day, will soon be lost, broken, worn out, and grown out of. He doesn't yet realize that the greatest gift he received that day was the doting love of so many people. He will not grow out of it, and it will not be lost, broken or worn out.

I found it interesting how David's lyrics were all about how lonely he was, but the last verse finds him blessed within a "circle of love." It's easy to feel feel the isolation of our melancholy. Depression is often a blinding fog. In our fear we lose sight of, and keep ourselves out-of-touch with, the veritable hoarde who love us.

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Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and clevercupcakes