This post is part of a 31-day series.
Causeless depression cannot be reasoned with, nor can David's harp charm it away by sweet discoursings. As well fight with the mist as with this shapeless, undefinable, yet all-beclouding hopelessness...The iron bolt which so mysteriously fastens the door of hope and holds our spirits in gloomy prison, needs a heavenly hand to push it back.
Depression has been variously described as a darkness, an inescapable pit, or a blinding fog. It can be frightening (thus the link to anxiety), and confusing. In darkness or thick fog, or a narrow well, you can’t see well enough to get a clear picture of your surroundings. You’re not sure where you are, or what’s going on, or how to find clear daylight again. Depression is so paralyzing and overwhelming largely because it makes you unable to think straight. Being depressed but not hopeless is almost an oxymoron.
Because of this, depression is a powerful liar. You'll believe all kinds of falsehoods if you listen to it.
Depression such as the nineteenth-century British preacher Charles Spurgeon experienced makes good, wise friends invaluable. We need such friends to listen and speak to us as we grope through such darkness. We need them to think straight for us when we can't think straight for ourselves.
A state of depression like this is a great time to realize I'm not the Messiah, and I can't do everything. The real Messiah invites me to cry out to Him, and listen for His voice in the swirling fog.
Next: Can't Stop Thinking
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