Dear Heavenly Father,
Why is it that 95% of the time I come to you I am screaming out in sadness, need, and most unfortunately, anger? Why is it I am so foolish and immature that I turn to you only when I feel like my life is deteriorating? You are with me all the time, in happiness and in sadness. When I am successful and when I am a failure. But I only acknowledge you when I am at my blackest. I come to you and shriek at you when darkness stabs my heart. I look at you as a hateful God who does nothing but punish me for all my decisions. Punishing me for who I am. Why have you cursed me with this burden? Why am I filled to burst with a black emptiness? How can I even begin to understand my cross if I balance between a serious chemical imbalance and my sinful doubt filled flesh? I HAVE DEPRESSION. I AM ANXIOUS. I was born with this chemical imbalance. I was predisposed to it because of my genetics. And it’s not fair. And it’s not fair that I can be told that my depression is a sin.
Well, Father, if there’s one thing I learned, it’s this:
Life’s not fair. But Jesus is.
My Father. Abba. Daddy. You hold my hand and you give me Jesus. I whine to you like I whine to my earthly Daddy, and you have given me your Son to take this darkness from me. To take my burden from me. And you’ve helped me understand this sickness. You’ve helped me understand why some may be tempted with alcohol, with lying, with theft, but for me, I’ve been tempted with death. So for once, I want to come to you in this letter and say something that has been overused in every day language. Something I say to you only when things are good, but never when they are bad. It’s been bad lately, and I realized I need to say it.
Thank you for everything. My family. Shelter. Food. A free country.
But right now I need to say thank you for my cross that I bear. It is through this depression you brought me back to the meaning of the manger at Christmas, filled with your promise of life. It is through this anxiety you drove me to you to calm my fears. It is through these burdens I have been able to grow and understand people around me. Thank you. Every day is a trial. But you remind me that my depression and anxiety were given to me for a reason. These challenges are meant for me. But I don’t suffer alone. Thank you for suffering with me.
Don’t forget about me. You promised you would always be there. Take this yoke, Lord. I am weak.
2 Corinthians 12:9 But he said to me “My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weakness, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.