The Blessing of Depression
I had a good prayer time yesterday. I hadn't in a really long time. Not any prayer time (other than a 'God, please help so-and-so' when I hear of an immediate need). As I settled in, I started thinking/praying/talking about how far away from God I am. No prayer times, no Bible readings, no church. And I started thinking about the fact that while yes, that bothers me, it doesn't really bother me deep down to my soul.
When I was living under the cloud of depression (though not when I was in the full throes of it), I ached. I sought out God and often didn't find Him. But I sought Him. When I was feeling, I felt a hole. I noticed the absence.
These days, I suppose I feel the absence, but my response is 'Mih. Don't really know what to do about it, so whatever.'
I'm not going to say I miss the cloud - it's an awful way to live - but I miss the closeness to God that it brought.
As Father Neuner, friend of Mother Teresa, wrote of her darkness, "...the darkness was actually the mysterious link that united her to Jesus. It is the contact of intimate longing for God....Such longing is possible only through God's own hidden presence. We cannot long for something that is not intimately close to us. Thirst is more than absence of water. It is not experienced by stones, but only by living beings that depend on water. Who knows more about living water, the person who opens the water tap daily without much thinking, or the thirst tortured traveler in the desert in search for a spring?"
I truly am so thankful that now I can see that time of my life as a blessing.
When I was living under the cloud of depression (though not when I was in the full throes of it), I ached. I sought out God and often didn't find Him. But I sought Him. When I was feeling, I felt a hole. I noticed the absence.
These days, I suppose I feel the absence, but my response is 'Mih. Don't really know what to do about it, so whatever.'
I'm not going to say I miss the cloud - it's an awful way to live - but I miss the closeness to God that it brought.
As Father Neuner, friend of Mother Teresa, wrote of her darkness, "...the darkness was actually the mysterious link that united her to Jesus. It is the contact of intimate longing for God....Such longing is possible only through God's own hidden presence. We cannot long for something that is not intimately close to us. Thirst is more than absence of water. It is not experienced by stones, but only by living beings that depend on water. Who knows more about living water, the person who opens the water tap daily without much thinking, or the thirst tortured traveler in the desert in search for a spring?"
I truly am so thankful that now I can see that time of my life as a blessing.
posted by melilotnfosco | 11:32 PM
4 Comments:
Psalm 88 is one of my favorites. Unlike the other Psalms of lament, 88 does not end on a hopeful note, with something like "But I put my trust in You." Sometimes we're not there. Sometimes we can't say that. Sometimes we have nothing left.
And yet, despite the fact that the Psalmist doesn't see the silver lining, I still find hope in this Psalm. Because he knows where to turn. In his despair, he pours his heart out to God. He may not come away with answers. He may not come away feeling better. But he knows where to bring his pain.
And sometimes that's enough.
it's beautiful that you've come to have the benefit of hindsight. it sounds like you would be a great mentor.
"We cannot long for something that is not intimately close to us." -- I love that. :) Also, this passage reminds me of Les Mis somehow. ;)
And sorry for my absence. I had no idea I'd been gone this long! I haven't been on my home computer for quite a while, so that explains part of it. Glad Auto and hobsis were making it up for me. ;)
It does sound "Les Mis"-y, doesn't it. :)
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