I think I’m a little bit depressed…

How, you might ask? I have a place to live, food to eat, a handful of friends, amazing parents, the most amazing son, daughter-in-law and a brand new grandson, a good job, a brand new car, almost 3 years of sobriety under my belt, and I think I’m kinda pretty. How in the world could I be depressed? Here’s a secret I have discovered as of late. Those external things mean diddly-squat when the internal is disconnected from its source of Life.

My one and only source of joy and happiness and life is Jesus, but lately He has taken a backseat to so many distractions. I hate admitting that. It makes me sad. But, if I really ponder, I know it makes Jesus sad even more so.

This morning I thumbed through my Bible towards the Psalms to find something–anything–to lift my spirit and refocus my gaze, and I came across the most depressing chapter in the whole Bible, I think. But it encouraged me.

Heman the Ezrahite writes in Psalm 88 (NLT):

O Lord, God of my salvation, I cry out to you by day. I come to you at night. Now Hear my prayer; listen to my cry. For my life is full of troubles, and death draws near. I am as good as dead, like a strong man with no strength left. They have left me among the dead, and I lie like a corpse in a grave. I am forgotten, cut off from your care. You have thrown me in to the lowest pit, into the darkest depths. Your anger weighs me down; with wave after wave you have engulfed me. You have driven my friends away by making me repulsive to them. I am in a trap with no way of escape. My eyes are blinded by my tears. Each day I beg for your help, O Lord; I lift my hands to you for mercy. Are your wonderful deeds of any use to the dead? Do the dead rise up and praise you? Can those in the grave declare your unfailing love? Can they proclaim your faithfulness in the place of destruction? Can the darkness speak of your wonderful deeds? Can anyone in the land of forgetfulness talk about your righteousness? O Lord, I cry out to you. I will keep on pleading day by day. O Lord, why do you reject me? Why do you turn your face from me? I have been sick and close to death since my youth. I stand helpless and desperate before your terrors. Your fierce anger has overwhelmed me. Your terrors have paralyzed me. They swirl around me like floodwaters all day long. They have engulfed me completely. You have taken away my companions and loved ones. Darkness is my closest friend.

Heman was a pretty depressed guy, and I, for one, am glad he only wrote one Psalm.

At a glance, one might read this chapter and wonder how in the world there could be anything encouraging to glean from it. Initially, I thought that very same thing.

Over the last several weeks I have experienced so many overwhelming emotions. It’s gotten to a point that I just want to disconnect from everything and everyone. And I have. Including Jesus. The brokenness of my past has become so front and center that I can think of nothing else. So, I don’t. I have allowed myself to be distracted by The Real Housewives franchises, the drama of others at work, training for a 5k, and positive attention of the male persuasion. All temporal distractions that don’t lead me closer to the Cross of Grace but further away. Ugh, I am disgusted just reading that back to myself.

My cup of pain is overflowing with regret and despair and things I can’t control, and I am just letting it build up and up and up.

Perhaps Heman could teach us a little something about who God wants to be for us–me–when it feels like the world is crashing down around us. Heman let it all hang out. The good, the bad, and the ugly. His cup was overflowing and he went straight to whom (I personally think) he knew he could be totally real with and let it spill out.

God: His source of life.

I don’t see the ‘upside’ in this chapter like I often do in a lot of David’s Psalms, yet I am encouraged nonetheless. My cup is overflowing with a lot of stuff I can’t exactly put into words as accurately as Heman the Ezrahite, but because I know God, I know that He is waiting for me to spill it all out to Him…even when I don’t have the words. It is likely He won’t speak an immediate solution into my spirit about those private things I am struggling with, but I am confident He will envelope me in the comfort and reassurance of the Daddy He is to me. I’d like to think that is what Heman received from God when he was finished lamenting.

*Sigh*

I don’t know why but I forget that God is not suprised by me or the things with which I struggle. I think I come to a place within myself that I feel like this is the same mountain just a different route, and I am frustrated with me so God must be, too. This morning I feel in my spirit that this is just not so. No matter how many times I come to God with the same hurt or fighting in the same battle, He is eager to take it and do something amazing with it. He’s just waiting for the effort on my part to hand it over…to let it all hang out in His presence.

So, having said ALL that, please excuse me as I go spill my guts to my Daddy.

I love y’all, and thank you for letting me share.