The darkness that threatens to overtake me? The clouds that seem to suffocate? I am getting close to him. Over and over I am told that God is near to the brokenhearted, He saves the crushed in spirit.
I would tell you that God’s story for your life is always bigger than your most painful chapter, or even the one you are in right now. Just because you’ve suffered incredible loss does not mean that your story is over
I don’t know many people who are eager to take medication, especially for those “invisible” psychological needs. And in the church there is often a peculiar bias against mental unhealth, an implicit or explicit message of “If you had enough faith, depression would not be an issue.”
I heard pastors and church people tell me that loneliness was a sign that I don’t quite love God enough, that I need to try harder to be satisfied by Him alone. That the cure for loneliness is to draw closer to Jesus. I think they were wrong.
The Bible, which talks of the God I know, is full of people who struggle, who get it wrong, who misunderstand, who get depressed, who are far from perfect. I fit into that crowd. I can know their God.
I left the church with its high walls and holy curtains. And the steps away are hard. I do not want to leave the home I have known. I do not want to be in the wilderness.
Half an hour earlier, I’d sent my wife and kids off to school. Normally I’d get up before they went but it’d been a bit chaotic so I was grabbing some breakfast, and about to go for a shower.
“I’m in an ambulance. Sam has had a massive seizure. Get to the hospital.”
Because I have lost my son and I miss him every day. And seven years hasn’t begun to heal the hurt of not being able to hold him. And Jesus is still enough.