Why I Shouldn't Be Depressed, Part 3

Why I Shouldn't Be Depressed, Part 1
Why I Shouldn't Be Depressed, Part 2

This week I have felt:

• Joy when it seemed like the medication was working
• Annoyance when I developed strange symptoms (like severe tremors, trouble speaking, and trouble walking)
• Frustration when I had to stop the medicine to see if the symptoms were a side effect
• And poof - I'm back to depressed.

Yesterday, Sunday, I could not smile.  I groaned and sighed and frowned about nothing in particular.  I dreaded church, where I would have to be all "Oh hiii!  Grin and hug, how are you I'm fine!  So good to see you!" with acquaintances - and worse, the "I'm okay" followed by the long, slow, tearful hugs with all the people I can't lie to.  I went, but Joe had to drag me.  I didn't make eye contact with anyone.  I barely mouthed the words to the songs, even the ones I liked.

And this is why, God, I'm the wrong person to be depressed.  Because the right person would worship you anyway and not be all sulky in the pew, wishing she were anywhere but church.  The right person would welcome interactions with loving friends.  The right person would be relieved to pour out her heart with her close girlfriends, enjoying the physical, emotional, and spiritual support they would willingly lavish on her.

I shouldn't be depressed because I can't handle my depression with grace.

Now, this is just stupid, because who handles their pain with grace?  I elevate people with severe illnesses.  I see them reaching out to others, and being open about their pains and frustrations, and spending hours with God.  But this results in two fallacious ideas - first, that they were chosen to deal with pain because they were able to handle it gracefully and in a way that glorifies God, and second, that they never have moments of weakness where they lash out at those around them or descend into the frowny depths of hopelessness.

The first idea, that God chose them based on their ability to handle pain gracefully, is downright offensive to anyone who deals with pain.  It says that whenever they have a moment of weakness, they are letting God down - or worse, being disobedient.  It says that they must always use every element of their illness for God's glory, testifying about his goodness in the midst of pain and encouraging others.  It says that their qualities which would have been perfect for a dream career or for being a parent are instead being put to their best use lying sick in bed.  If it were me, I'd be offended.

The second idea, that they have no moments of actual, human, sinful-nature weakness, is also offensive.  When my chronically ill friend Heather opens up to us at girls' Bible Study, crying and saying how frustrated she feels, we think that's the extent of her breaking under the pain.  Heather would be the first to convince you that she has sinned in her illness.  She needs friends, not people who think she's a saint who God chose to deal with hardship.  It is really the most unkind thing we can do, to treat her like a saint, because it puts an expectation of perfection on someone who is already dealing with every kind of pain.

I've had people admire me for writing this blog and being open and I feel so unworthy, because they don't know about moments like the following:

These are the times when the gospel doesn't make sense to me because I'm so lost in confusion.  Yesterday Pastor Tommy said, "When things get difficult, just remember - that's why Jesus came" and I felt resentful.  I know what Tommy didn't mean.  He didn't mean that Jesus came to make everything easy.  He meant that things aren't easy because of sin, and Jesus came to take away the sin.

But I felt resentful, because I was confronted with a truth that didn't make any sense.  It felt like a platitude, along with "Everything happens for a reason" and "It will all turn out in the end."  These things may be true, but they don't comfort.  In the moment of pain, it doesn't help to know that the pain will eventually end.  People with pain can't think ahead; they are trying to get through one moment at a time.

In his defense, it's a pastor's job to teach truth, and that's what Tommy did.  I was just acting like the sermon should have been "How to Make Amber Feel Better."

So that's three reasons I shouldn't be depressed:

1. I love God, and depression makes it harder for me to love God, so why would God do that to himself?
2. I am not some emo kid who wants to sit around and be all introspective and serious on a blog all day.  I'm a life-loving woman with an exciting life to live, so why would God squelch my hopes and dreams?
3. I don't handle depression gracefully.  I sin and whine and refuse to talk to anyone but my husband and I spend hours playing computer games or watching truly idiotic TV shows.  I rarely can say things like "I may be depressed, but I feel a peace through it all" or anything spiritual like that.  So why would God pick me?

One of my professors at Multnomah Bible College (or Multnomah University, as it's now called) always got a smile on his face when a student asked a Biblical question beginning with, "Why would God?"  He would always say the same thing:  "Whenever I hear someone say 'why would God,' I don't even need to hear the rest of the question.  I already know the answer:  I don't know."

It seems easy to say.  But the pat, easy to say things, often are the truth.  I just have to choose to believe them, even if I don't feel they're true (and right now I don't).

I don't know why God has chosen this path for my life.
But everything is happening for a reason, even if I don't know that reason.
And in the end, everything will be okay.