I know I am late to the party. Three months late. So the topic is "stretch". Having MS I should stretch every morning. But I don't. I should drink my hot prune juice. But I don't. At least not every morning. Occasionally, at best.
Assuredly, I'm not the only human struggling with anxiety and depression. Completing everyday activities is always a stretch when in the cavern of despair. The surroundings of life contribute to my angst, but are not the whole of my pit. A diagnosis of moderate to severe depression is not a life sentence, more like a daily battle within. Invisible to most of those around me, the internal havoc reaches from the hairs on my head, to my twisted old lady toes. I am aware that the folks closest to me, try. Try to reach me with their version of encouraging words. Or frustration over my lack of the ability to pick myself up and just get over it.
David speaks often in the Psalms about the pangs of despair, doubting even the nearness of his God. Yet he is a man after God's own heart, penning psalms of praise and the greatness of our Lord. Both bring myself the knowledge of His nearness; whether I am in the pit or on the mountain. David, the man who dances in the streets, or grovels in his despair, he is the champion of those of us struggling to live in our disjointed heart.Whether I sense His presence. Or not. He is always near. Tho I fear much and feel alone; I know deep within He lives inside my broken heart.
1 comment:
Praying for you this morning. Two people near and dear to our family are in this battle with depression/anxiety also so we are familiar with the difficulty. May the Lord provide much grace and compassion to you exactly when you need it. You are beloved by your Heavenly Father.
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