I've heard it said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting a different result. However, what do you call it when a good result is garaunteed, but you don't believe it will come... no matter how many times it has come before? It's like going to bed at night with disbelief that the sun will rise in the morning. Why do we repeat the same familiar senario of worry, and yet doubt that Jehovah will help us? Not doubt that he is ABLE to help us. But doubt that we are worth his attention... yet again.... for the millionth time. Yet every single time he's right there. I dont think it's insanity. Lack of faith I suppose. A classic case of human imperfection.
Take the other day for instance. I've recently, albeit unwillingly, aquiesced to the idea that I fight depression. It's okay, I'm not suicidal or dark. I just have obnoxious bouts of time where everyday life is unbearably overwhelming. Days where I am so very, very tired and would feel much more capable of hiding under the blankets than face the really big tasks like, oh I dont know.... brushing my teeth. That morning, I realized, was going to be one of those days. I woke up and didn't know how I was going to make it to the end of the day. Which is sad because it was Sunday. Meeting day. My favorite day of the week. But instead of humming a happy tune, I felt like I was trying to run underwater. Pushing my way in slow motion through the simplest of tasks. Overwhelmed by the weight of anything beyond the mundane. All manner of sad thoughts ravaging my brain no matter how hard I fought to crowd them out with good things. Wanting to come up for air, but not knowing how. Insert: fervent prayer. Immediately followed by (and this is where it gets good): fervent guilt. And doubt that it can ever get better, saddened because Jehovah deserves so much better than what I give him.
But I promise this story has a happy ending. As it does every morning, the sun did rise, Jehovah helped me come up for air. I was very specific in my prayer, and Jehovah was equally specific in his encouragement. As I was getting ready for the meeting, dear freinds dropped in unannounced, and helped me remember I was part of a big theocratic family. An unexpected card from a faraway friend was in the mail with just the right words of encouragement. An email from a friend who, I found out later, had earlier in the week specifically asked Jehovah to help her be of encouragement someone suffering from depression. And a wonderful Watchtower that reminded me of what devoted and loving shepherds Jehovah and his son are. MY Shepherd. MY Father. No matter how many times I need him to grasp my right hand. All of this encouragement, all in the same day. The depression was still there, I was still still in the deep end. But Jehovah dove in after me. I was now above the surface, sun in my face, with a hopeful view of tomorrow. And hopefully a lesson learned: never doubt Jehovah's loving-kindness, even in the case of my own little problems.
Why am I sharing this very personal information? (Kudos to you for not high-tailing it to Pinterest by now.) Honestly, it's a little scary to share these things. I suppose because I am just so very thankful to Jehovah. And He came to my aid by the words of others. Perhaps you are in the deep end right now. Perhaps not in the same way I was, but something. A struggle, a fight, a sadness, or a doubt. I hope my humble little arrangement of letters into words, and words into thoughts, and thoughts that tell my story will remind you of Jehovah's care for you too. Not simply care for His people in general. But YOU personally. Please never doubt you'll get the care you need. Never doubt the sun will rise for you too.
