DIALOG WITH DEPRESSION
Tossing. Turning. Churning. =
Scalding tears. =
Again. Headache. Again. Aspirin.
Heart strings being tuned tighter and tighter, =
Come on, one more notch, please…tighter.
Someday soon that string will go PING!
There won’t be any more music in my soul.
It is so frayed already. It can’t be long =
Tranquilizers. Blood Pressure pills.
Tossing. Turning. Churning. =
Stiff neck. =
Charlie Horses. Twitches. Ouch!
I’m drowning. HELP! Keep treading =
And get "one more thing" done before you =
3:00 a.m. I’ve GOT to get some sleep. =
Swallow my guilt =
along with it.
Why would =
"a real Christian" need a sleeping pill?
Well, hope it takes my headache too. =
What do you take for a heartache?
A real Christian? More like a nervous =
Looking for a place to happen.
Everything’s so fouled up.
come life has become one continuous panic attack?
In the lonely blackness I sense how very fragile my =
Just let go. Just go ahead and =
It wouldn’t take much to go =
over the edge.
keep doing twice as much in half as much time.
OK, be honest. Am I inviting Suicide to =
attend my pity party?
Could. Maybe should.
Lord, help me! Why am I even letting these thoughts Enter my =
Besides, that would only relieve =
I’d be safe in the arms of =
Jesus, able to rest in Him at last.
But it would break my family’s hearts and mess up =
So I won’t do =
it. But I could. And maybe should.
the brakes on, Honey. Hang in there, you!
You ARE safe in the arms of Jesus ALREADY, =
You COULD be resting in Him =
this very minute, Foolish Girl,
Instead of spewing and =
Safe in His arms, like in the popular reading =
"Footprints in the Sand".
It IS just that He IS having to carry me right =
But it’s really that I should =
have been LETTING Him carry me
I guess that is what this whole mess is =
I’ve been trusting =
"us" to somehow make it.
I’ve been trusting "me" to somehow keep =
us all together.
I’ve put feet to =
my prayers so much I forgot to PRAY.
forgot to obey His will for my "work". I disobeyed His =
law of "rest".
I went =
where I did not belong, ahead of His will, over my =
And thought I could muddle =
through, though drowning, exhausted.
I thought I was "SuperWoman". I =
forgot I am only DUST.
I bit =
off more than I could chew
everything else got chewed up in the process.
I was so busy serving Him I didn’t have time to =
I tried to take care of =
everyone else, and forgot to take care of ME.
So the =
Lord put His finger on the sore spot.
The truth is lanced at last.
All this agony has been over
Whether or not I’m going to TRUST and OBEY =
Tonight’s insomniac fever in my =
Will break me…or make =
Oh, God, help =
Thou mine unbelief!
May I learn =
the lesson. May I be well again someday.
Gently. Blessedly. Tenderly. =
Jesus poured The Balm of Gilead over my mutilated heart, =
Cups of Cold Water over my =
The Still Small =
Voice whispered sweetest comfort to my soul.
The Great Physician would heal my mind and body, =
They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their =
For God hath not given =
us the spirit of fear, but of…a sound mind!
How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, is =
laid for your faith in His excellent Word!
There’s no other way to be happy in Jesus but to =
trust and obey!,
over one more time. Yawn. Relax.
Snuggle down into His arms. =
For He giveth His beloved =
G’Night, Lord–and =
[This was written in 1988 by my sweet wife Teresa. =
She was diagnosed with a terminal illness. For months previously she had =
been fighting a battle with depression, unknown to the rest of us, =
within herself. We share this serious message with those who, =
because personal struggles or because of the precarious state of the =
world, might have this same discussion.
BTW, God graciously =
allowed Teresa to live in spite of the universal diagnosis. She =
grew through this struggle, raised our family, earned her doctorate in =
natural health, founded her own alternative health clinic www.phr.net and has been a godly, =
compassionate pastor’s wife all these years.]
Dr Bob Griffin =
firstname.lastname@example.org www.grif.net =
"Jesus Knows Me, This I =