Why, my soul, are you so dejected? Why are you in such turmoil?
Put your hope in God, for I will still praise him, my Savior and my God.
I looked at my iPod. Which playlist should I pick to listen to while I wash my dishes? My eyes went back and forth between my “Cleaning” and my “Rend Collective” playlists. I decided on the latter playlist with praise music because it had been a dark day. I propped my iPod up on my kitchen windowsill, pressed play, and as the words came out, something in me opened up.
I turned around, slid down to the floor on my knees and cried. I think I’m in a bit of a depression, I thought.
Depression is this weird thing that you can’t really explain or give reason for. It just is. I get this way from time to time, it’s just a darkness, and it seems to be a rhythm of my life, and I know it will lift.
I’m kind of a functioning depressive. I can be mostly okay, but in my home, going about the hours, everything is a mountain. I remember a professor once saying in class that when you find yourself in a depressed place, when everything feels hard, just do something small. Maybe you can make the bed. Do that. My small thing, right now, is writing this down, because there is something in the writing that helps.
Something about vulnerability and honesty allows the process to take its course. So while I am sharing that I’m depressed, I’m also hopeful because God is with me, and He knows all of my heart and every bit of my soul, and He will be kind and tender with me through this.
I’ve been here before. You may have been here before too. Today, let’s agree to be gentle with ourselves, slowly doing the dishes, and keep knowing we aren’t alone. Because of Jesus, we are free, and we trust the healing in the heaviness.
Do one small thing today. Maybe it’s the dishes. Maybe it’s making the bed. Making it’s smiling at the clerk behind a counter. Maybe it’s smiling to the person in the mirror. Do this one thing.