The Dark Side of Light

Depression follows me like a shadow, and my perspective of it shifts based on where my eyes are looking. Most often, I am looking at my family, and I see darkness and light play over their lives in varying degrees of contrast.

I see my oldest adopted son, whom has spiraled from the joyful light of living out his dreams and achieving his goals, down into the dark depths of schizophrenia. I see the shadows of paranoia, hostility, and anger that have hurt and isolated him from the people who care about him the most. I am helpless to stop the darkness from consuming my son, and the obvious contrast to the light-filled life he has left behind makes my heart ache. The years of effort and love that my family and my brother's family have invested into him causes my sense of reason to shake its fist in frustration and ask "Why? Why would God bring him to us, only to allow him to be lost like this?" Matthew 5:3 in The Message Bible says, "You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule." I am trying to come to a place where I can have hope in my son's "poorness of spirit". Jesus said that he would bless those who found themselves in the circumstance of being emotionally depleted. While I cannot understand why my son is rejecting the life and the people that he had previously chosen to care about, I also cannot understand the pain of the twelve years he lived before I ever knew him. What I do understand is that I know my son is aware of the love that God has for him. He has been immersed in that love for the last twenty years of his life, and it cannot be without effect.

I also see my husband, who suffers daily with pain and exhaustion. I see the shadow of disease hanging over his life, limiting his relationships, challenging every celebration, coloring every experience with its unavoidable presence. I hear his tired voice as he pushes through each day, never questioning why, just dealing with what's in front of him and inside of him as it comes. I feel his frustration as we figure out our limited finances and as we plan our family schedule trying to predict his stamina. I feel his arms around me as he gingerly holds me - tight enough to comfort me, loose enough to avoid more pain in his body. I respect him for his refusal to feel sorry for himself and his refusal to allow others to offer him pity. I am not so strong as he is, though, and I sometimes cry over the shadow that his sickness casts over the life we once lived as I mourn what we've lost. Matthew 5:4 in The Message Bible says, "You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you." Maybe that's why my husband can accept his situation without question. Maybe his acceptance of what is gone opens him up to the comfort God has for him. Maybe the peace he now has within himself is something he would have never experienced with the intense focus he used to have on things in his life which brought only temporary satisfaction. Maybe he does mourn what is lost, but the comfort of God fills him with gratitude for the blessing he has in his family and in his faith.

I see another of my sons, who teeters on the edge of darkness and light. I see the shadows pulling at him, as they also do me. I see him struggle with the hopelessness of the dark things of the world that stand out so starkly against the light which he knows holds God. I listen to him reason through his own emotions. I watch him fight with his own impulses. I feel his pain and his confusion as he wades through the muck of adolescence and of this world that sucks at his feet and tries to pull him down. I deliberate over parenting decisions and finding balance between guidance and trust. I ruminate over the past and wonder if I protected him enough or if I protected him too much. I love him fiercely, but I know that my love alone is not enough to keep him from being overcome by the dark. Matthew 5:5 in The Message Bible says, "You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.” I know that my son battles with his emotions. I know that it's scary to be vulnerable and transparent and to let people really know who you are inside. I know this because I often face the same battle and fear. I want to hide away and deny my fears and protect myself from the judgement and knowledge of people around me. But I also know that letting people know me is what God created me for. I know that he wants us to encourage each other and to grow together and to never feel alone. And I also know that when someone rejects who I am, that it does not change my value, no matter how much it hurts. When I watch my son struggle, I sometimes feel helpless, but never hopeless. I know that he belongs to God and that nothing can ever overcome that.

So... this again is the paradox of blessing. I know that my need for God is greatest when my circumstances are too big for me. I know that it means I am blessed by the difficulties I face because they push me down and cause me to be dependent on God to lift me up. I know that dependency means God's presence in my life has the opportunity to be big and strong. I know that strong presence is a light that is bright. However, I have also experienced that the brightness makes the contrast of the dark things even more prominent. This is where I struggle to stay in the light, rather than step back into the gray of the shadows. Choosing to see suffering and choosing to be seen in my own suffering is very difficult. The grayness of depression allows me to avoid dealing with an emotional intensity that is painful and revealing. Yet, I realize that God has called the grayness a worthless place to remain. He does not want me to be hidden. He desires me to bring his flavor to the situations I am faced with in my life. He desires me to shine his light out into the darkness that surrounds me. It's up to me to decide now, whether to stay hidden in the grayness or to walk towards hope and leave the shadows behind.

“You are the salt of the earth. But what good is salt if it has lost its flavor? Can you make it salty again? It will be thrown out and trampled underfoot as worthless.”
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭5:13‬ ‭NLT‬‬

“No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house.”
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭5:15‬ ‭NLT‬‬

"It is not the emotionally endowed that God blesses, but the poor in spirit. It is not the buoyant and boisterous he comforts, but those who mourn. Not the prideful, but the meek." -David Mathis

“God blesses those who are poor and realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs. God blesses those who mourn, for they will be comforted. God blesses those who are humble, for they will inherit the whole earth.” -Matthew‬ ‭5:3-5‬ ‭NLT‬‬

"Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us." - Samuel Smiles

The Blessing of Burden

On Christmas Eve, our church usually holds two service times. This year our family chose to go to the later session, a bilingual service where the Spanish speaking and English speaking congregations of our church (which typically meet separately) came together to celebrate Christmas with traditional carols (switching between languages at each verse), relevant scripture and sharing of personal experiences (translated into both languages), and a concluding prayer time accompanied by a candle lighting ceremony involving each person present. One of my favorite Christmas hymns, Oh Holy Night, was among the carols that had been chosen for this service. It's a magnificently powerful song describing the wonder of the moment that Jesus Christ was born into this dark, oppressive world. To me, the most significant lines are the ones that describe the awe and the hope that Jesus brings to us - an awe that brings us to our knees and a hope that is possible to recognize and hang onto, even when complete weariness and impending doom seem to be upon us:

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

Fall on your knees, O hear the angel's voices

O night divine, O night when Christ was born 

(Oh Holy Night, lyrics by: Placide Clappeau)

Another part of the service that stood out to me happened very unobtrusively during the children's sermon time. As I listened to the story being read, I noticed one of the Hispanic ministers, Pastor Loles, resting on a chair towards the back of the stage. I watched her rub her hand wearily over her round belly, stretched with the miracle of her first child living within her. A faint smile was on her face, her cheeks rosy with the heat of the stage lights. I observed her deliberately take some extra-deep breaths, and suddenly my own chest felt taut with the memories of a growing baby nestled under my ribs, competing with my lungs for room to move. As always happens at Christmas time when I regard a heavily pregnant mother, my mind wandered to thoughts of Mary carrying the precious life of the Baby Jesus within her that very first Christmas night. Without fail, my thoughts of Mary are consistently intermingled with both compassion and wonder. What an immense burden for her to be carrying in such extremely difficult circumstances... but at the same time, what a privilege she was blessed with to be sharing her own life with the life of God himself! On this Christmas Eve night the thought in my mind was this - Mary's burden was also her blessing.

MARY'S BURDEN WAS ALSO HER BLESSING!

A burden by definition is a heavy load, or something which causes hardship or distress. It's connotation is a negative one, rather than a desirable one. 

How many times in my life have I wanted to refuse a burden held out to me? How many times have I railed at God for putting an unasked for burden upon me? How many times have I felt as if I could not take one more step forward because the heaviness of a burden is more weight on my shoulders than it seems I can possibly bear? 

This past year and a half, I have struggled with the burden of depression. It is unlike any other burden I have ever encountered. It is one I have seen others carry, and one that I had told myself I never wanted to experience. I wasn't prepared for how it would slowly creep up on me... how one day I would look around and find that everything in my life seemed to shrouded by it. 

Familylife.com describes living with depression as this. "Your world is dark, heavy, and painful... depression seems to go to your very soul, affecting everything in its path." The website also states that the burden of depression affects 25% of the population. It's amazing to think that a burden that deceives me into feeling completely alone is the same burden that is experienced by over a billion other people in the world. 

For me, the perplexing thing in my struggle has been that at some point early on, I began to recognize the veil that covered me for what it was - depression. I can see it's there. I'm aware of its deception, of its intent to destroy. Yet, I continue to flounder in the presence of it in my life. I have watched in despair as some of my relationships have been strangled by the veil, and somehow I have not been able to reach beyond it to sustain them in a healthy way or, with more than a few people, to sustain them at all. Some people and situations that were once so important in my life have been lost to me, either faded away or ripped away, both experiences very painful and disorienting. Even my environment has been affected by the veil, plunging myself and those close to me into chaos and disorder and conditions that only serve to make the burden heavier, the veil more opaque.

This Christmas Eve as I considered the blessing of the burden carried by Mary, I thought about my burden and the possibility of it having potential to be paradoxically transformed into blessing. Was the terrifying situation which Mary found herself in, in any way comparable to the thorn of depression in my life?

In contrast to a burden, a blessing is a positive label - one defined as God's favor and protection, something prayed for, something for which we are grateful, something that brings well-being, or another person's support. When I think about the smothering presence of depression, it's very difficult to feel that the presence God's favor and protection can rest on me at the same time as a burden that seems so heavy and wearying. But even though my heart feels defeat, my head knows well a Bible scripture that I have read over and over, and at times I find myself holding onto it like a flotation device in the middle of a stormy sea.

“Jesus said, 'Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.'"

Matthew 11:28-30 NLT

Another version of the Bible says, "Learn the unforced rhythms of grace." MSG

I am weary - there is no doubt - and the burden of depression is heavy. Jesus calls to me as I struggle, and because I do know his voice, I recognize it - even through my depressive veil. I know he calls to me with no judgement, no expectation, no "to do" list, no disapproval, no annoyance, no anger, no disappointment, no hidden motives. He calls me with an attitude of grace that I do not deserve, and he desires to honor me with his presence. But even though I know in my head he has already chosen me to be close to him, even though I know in my head that my life has great value to him just as I am - still in my heart I struggle with the weight of the world, and with the opinions and actions of the imperfect people in it. Feelings of rejection and inadequacy in the face of exclusion and judgement are hard to live with and yet, for some reason, they are also hard feelings to give up. Feelings of fear and helplessness relayed by news of incomprehensible violence and unimaginable cruelty are hard to lay down. Feelings of loneliness and disconnection even when I am with those closest to me are hard to look past despite the fact that I know my emotions are not always accurate indicators of the truth.

As I grappled last night once again with the choice of putting down the burdens I have picked up under my own free will, and instead holding to myself the promises that I know are true ( because I know that what God has promised is always true, despite how I feel ), some lyrics from the song Breath of Heaven, also known as simply Mary's Song, came to mind:

"I have travelled many moonless nights


Cold and weary, with a babe inside


And I wonder what I've done


Holy Father, you have come


And chosen me now
 to carry your son

I am waiting in a silent prayer


I am frightened by the load I bear


In a world as cold as stone,


Must I walk this path alone?


Be with me now
, Be with me now

Breath of heaven


Hold me together


Be forever near me


Breath of heaven




Breath of heaven


Lighten my darkness


Pour over me your holiness


For you are holy"

(Breath Of Heaven, lyrics by: Amy Grant)

Like this song portrays, I think that Mary was probably filled with feelings of doubt concerning her situation, with fear and dismay over her circumstances, with loneliness in the face of others judging and rejecting her... but I also think that Mary's faith in God and what he had promised was stronger than her desperation. The author of the song's lyrics explains, "It is a prayer that fits a lot of people's circumstances, because it is a cry for mercy." 

I am laying here now, on this early Christmas morning, glancing out the window at the grayness of the December sky. I cry for God to have mercy for me in my circumstances, to hold me together during the many times today that I'm sure to feel like falling apart for a number of reasons or for not any reason at all. And as my heart reaches out to my Savior, my head recognizes the blessing in the burden I'm carrying. The blessing comes with bringing the burden to Jesus, in exchanging it in his presence for the simplicity of being loved by him, in looking away from despair towards hope, and in the faithful expectation of waiting for the day when the veil of depression is torn forever. 

"Breath of heaven

Lighten my darkness

Pour over me your holiness

For you are holy"

"The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in a land of deep darkness, a light will shine....For a child is born to us, a son is given to us. The government will rest on his shoulders. And he will be called: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."

Isaiah 9:2-6 NLT