I did it squeezing my faith in my hands. Oh yes! I was white knuckling it all the way. The car ride to the hospital was horrific. Fear ran circles in my heart as I looked at his bruised and battered face and hands. The large gash on his head sent fear scattering throughout the rest of my body. His incoherent words and terrifying loss of reality urged me to panic.
Our arrival at the hospital brought fear and anxiety to both of us. The doctor asked him why he was there. His answer sent me scrambling for help. I walked outside into the wide noisy night. I held my growing, life giving stomach. I ached for comfort. A place to throw myself into. My mind searched the space above me. “Where are you God? WHERE are you?” Tears forced an exit from my eyes. “God where are you?” I whispered into the dark air again. Grief laced every single word.
The cell phone interrupted my pleas. Praying friends called to offer company. On their arrival I fell into their pillows of soothing words. Tears fell into rivers on the hospital floor. God was here in the rivers of tears and weak pleas. He picked me up and found a place on these women’s backs. They carried my weary pregnant body home.
Later that night, I wanted to hold my husband and cradle him in my arms. I asked God to hold him as he rested in that hospital bed. My mind shifted to my baby. Tears were shed about what she had been through. The name that lay waiting for her called me. It called me to the Tabernacle. A place of peace and protection. It reminded me of who God is. He is the one who carried me into the lives of loving and gracious friends. He is the one that invited me to hold on.
I white knuckled God the whole way. It was a tight squeeze but I think he was okay with it. That is how I got through a major disaster fueled by my husband’s depression. News about our fourth child came while he was hospitalized. During the pregnancy he was hospitalized 3 times. Each time, I wanted to close my eyes and turn from my life. God would urge me back. His hand stretched out in the form of friends who call, cook and sit with you.
God carried our daughter (Ella-Shiloh) safely to term and brought peace and protection to us. The safe arrival of our newborn encouraged me to speak the truth about our struggle. Depression is not, just in someone’s mind, something to “get over”, or to be ashamed of. It is all consuming and devastating. Yet, we will survive this to bring comfort, hope, and peace to someone else. May God give you peace, protection, and support.
By Myrtle, Myrtle’s Turtles