During our lives we experience everything from the frightfully hard to the exceedingly wonderful. As Christians, we hope to "live lives to the fullest" and to deepen our relationship with Jesus daily.
We play out this life in a society overstimulated by fear, where instant gratification is a constant option and the bombardment of information threatens even the most peaceful person.
This creates an environment where depression and anxiety thrive. Anxiety steals peace, depression steals hope and yet these are the things God promises His people as they seek Him.
While these can be factors in anyone's life, what happens when anxiety and depression are the day-to-day reality in which you live? How as a Christian, attempting to live in His freedom, to rejoice in your sufferings and to know He never leaves you, can we live with these tensions?
My story of mental illness could have many beginnings, but let's start with one particular morning. I remember recognising that something was about to change. The intimate relationship I had with God had been the most consistent thing in my life. I was determined to make him proud, He was my most intimate and beautiful friend. I used to go on long bike rides just so that I could explore and talk to Him. We'd talk about all things from the design of the clouds for His second coming to my friends at school and how much I wanted them to know Him too.
So I was confused by a feeling of 'withdrawal' from God and a sense of anxiety that was setting itself up in its place. The intimacy I'd enjoyed was being replaced by an unnerving depression. While I was determined to hold on to the truths and sing those songs no matter how I felt, the reality that I actually lived in was this:
"So I'm nearly done... I've nearly had it. For so long I thought I could keep on going but I've got to the point of tipping. I don't even have the guts to want to live...please, no more, God. Can I even rely on you, God? I don't have the energy to cry out any more, my mind just gets more boggled, my heart more hurt and my life so much more disappointing to me.
"I'm tired of asking people to pray and I'm tired of expecting from life. I don't want to go but I want to be free, I want to be happy. I just can't believe this is my reality, what did I do wrong, where did I turn away? I don't know if I'll ever be free of all this. Oh dear me. God please help me, please relieve me."
One very early morning, about six months after this, I was having trouble sleeping because of the immensity of sadness and what I called "the sternum ache", my most consistent companion. I called out to God again. My eyes were scrunched shut, my hands in little balls. Suddenly an image flashed before my eyes, an image of Jesus on the cross, carrying the same load of depression and anxiety. It was on Him so intensely that it swallowed all the life out of Him. My immediate thought was, "He knows, He feels it, He gets it, but it killed Him."
There was a pause in that moment, before the reality hit: "He rose again...He rose again and defeated the very thing that has attempted to steal, destroy and kill me."
I had living inside me the very same spirit that raised Jesus from the dead. A fresh relief swept over me, a moment of lightness washed through my being – there is a hope beyond me, He knows, He lives.
As the years have gone by when I haven't had the mind or heart to praise God, when I'm exhausted by depression's creeping persistence, when I've been in some very dark places and can't understand my purpose, I recognise what I can and do hold on to: God actually is good, He really is true and He is the most faithful Father.
Seek Him no matter what, know His victory no matter what because he will never break his promises.
