Greetings from the Pit

When I have written to you these past years, my words have always been rooted in reflection. I learned valuable lessons and God grew me mightily through my prior trials of infertility and anxiety. Even in those times, the pain and suffering lifted fairly quickly.

These past years have been smooth-sailing. And I praise the Lord for that! It sparked my ministry work and my commitment to bringing you hope in your pain.

Yet here I am today, and I am writing to you from a current, real-time pit of despair. This recent pit of depression, anxiety, and grief is unfamiliar, terrifying, uncertain — and it’s most certainly raw. It’s not my norm.

But I felt the Lord pressing me with: Write Now. Right Now. A sense of: Daughter, don’t wait until this season is over to share your story.

The pit of despair

After losing our almost five-year-old Goldendoodle fur baby Rudy to canine lymphoma a couple of months ago, I had my highs and lows of what I considered grieving. I assumed that once the initial week of constant crying passed, I would pick myself up and continue living life as it once was.

But my assumption was wrong. So wrong.

A month or so after, I experienced a panic attack. After losing Rudy, my mind was now hyper focused on uncertainty and death. (Panic attacks are not new to me, and have been an unwelcome and terrifying friend of my past. However, I had not experienced one in about four years).

If this is unfamiliar territory to you, you may be wondering what this looks like.

A panic attack itself is generally short in time, but what follows it is what I call a “panic hangover”: lingering anxiety coupled with depression. With a panic attack, it feels as if you are dying. Personally, it feels like someone injects my veins with lighter fluid, swipes a match, and lights me ablaze internally. My heart races, I begin sweating, and the worst feeling of all: I feel as though I’m removed from my body, a mere shell of myself, a feeling of losing my mind and never regaining it again. The words “terrifying,” “horrifying,” and “scary” are fairly descriptive, but honestly, I still have not come up with an accurate term to describe how debilitating a panic attack is.

So the “panic hangover” follows with anxiety, the feeling that nothing is right, that pain and death are very near, that I’ll be sick at any moment. Thoughts run rampant, new fears develop. You worry about the next time you’ll have an attack. So the anxiety builds, and you live in a constant state of torture from your own mind. The pure adrenaline that flows through my system wipes me out completely. I’m exhausted physically and mentally. I struggle to put basic thoughts together or perform regular functions like cooking meals, running errands, and spending time with loved ones.

Depression isn’t always necessarily a feeling of sadness, but it’s an overall feeling of no energy. It’s a wanting to check out from the world. It’s a feeling of being frozen and zombielike. It’s feels like someone straps 100 pound weights to my ankles and asks me to walk. It’s a feeling of imprisonment; you can see the locked cell door about to open, but the key is stuck inside the lock.

God’s people in the pit

Let’s pause a moment to thank our Heavenly Father, who has given us his Word for life and living. His Word is not shy on people who felt that they were stuck in an inescapable pit: David (Psalm 38:4), Job (Job 3:26; Job 10:1; Job 10:30-35), Jonah (Jonah 4:3), Elijah (1 Kings 19:4), Jeremiah (Jeremiah 20:18), and Naomi (Ruth 1:20-21) — to name a few.

They too struggled with feelings of hopelessness, sadness, anger, fear, exhaustion, confusion — just like us today. Their experiences and reasons for despair varied and were unique. Some struggled with unresolved sin, some were angry with God, some were disobedient, some had weighing guilt, some simply just felt the grief and sadness of a fallen world. And the Lord met them, walked with them, and changed those who were willing.

Humanity’s anguish clearly hasn’t changed — and fortunately — neither has God.

A Savior who knows.

Aren’t you comforted when you have strife in common with another person? I feel a breath of relief when I encounter another woman who has endured infertility or anxiety. The words “I get it. I understand.” are some of the best words I can hear when I am walking through the valley.

How quickly we are to forget that our Savior Jesus knows our pain. Does he know depression in the form of hiding under the covers for days? Probably not; the Bible doesn’t tell us. But it does tell us that he was a man of suffering, familiar with pain (Isaiah 53:3). Our Jesus was troubled in spirit (John 13:21). Our Jesus asked the Father to lighten his suffering and make another way (Luke 22:42). Our Jesus even felt abandoned by the Father on the cross (Matthew 27:46). But …

His suffering and death weren’t the end of our Savior. He beat death through his resurrection, and his ascension means healing, wholeness, fullness, perfection, satisfaction, and joy for God’s people in eternity. By faith in Christ, we don’t have to fight or earn this gift. He’s freely given it out of the riches of his grace. His victory is ours!

An invitation

Our suffering causes us to recognize and wrestle with our weakness, and ultimately, to cry out to the Father. We are made aware of what is rooted in our hearts and minds. The Lord reveals where he needs our attention — not for his own benefit, but for ours. He desires growth for his children. He wants us to mature in Christ. And trials under God’s authority have a glorious way of accomplishing this.

The Lord is showing me that my heart and mind are divided right now. He’s revealing areas that I am clinging to: control, self-sufficiency, pride, anger, fear, and people-pleasing. He’s calling out, inviting me: Daughter, you’re resting in your own merits and gifts. It’s time to see my power. Let me show you hope and healing. Let me show you peace and purpose. It’s only found in me, sweet daughter. Breathe. Rest. I’m here.

But how?

At times, I’ve been desperate to rid the pain of this season. I’ve only wanted the relief, not the Savior. I’ve only wanted my comfort, not him. I’ve wanted it immediately and in my own way. I’ve racked my brain for “what” I can do and “how” I can do it so that the Lord would lift it.

I have to remind myself that the Lord acts in his time and through our obedience. And beautifully, he acts on the riches of his grace, and not some magical faith formula I need to adhere to. Our Father acts even in the weakest of faith. He doesn’t wait for us to have everything wrapped up in a nice pretty bow. He doesn’t wait for our faith to be rock solid. He doesn’t wait for a list of spiritual disciplines or religious works to be completed before he responds. But …

He wants our dependence. He wants our surrender. He wants to change us. He wants to uproot the sin and darkness. He wants eternal benefits for us, even now!

He achieves this through calling us to himself — through meditating on his Word and who he is, through prayer, confession, and repentance. He promises to always be with us (Isaiah 43:1-3). He promises to never leave us (Hebrews 13:5). He promises to rid us of branches that are producing no fruit, and promises to grow us so that we bear fruit (John 15:2-6). He will lift us out of the pit of despair, set our feet on solid ground, and steady us as we walk along (Psalm 40:2, NLT).

In acknowledging all of these things, and understanding that trials make God’s people stronger (James 1:2-4), I will cling to God’s promises in my depression and anxiety. I will trust in his ability and power to deliver me. I will humble myself and invite him in to work on my heart and mind. I will wait and hope, and I will do it patiently and fearlessly. I will, as my life verse says, be content in all circumstances (Philippians 4:11).

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. (James 1:2-6)

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Cover imaged used with permission, Unsplash.com