The Middle

Have you ever read a blog post or a book, or listened to a public speaker, or sat with a new friend over a cup of coffee and experienced the impact of another human's suffering? The story you read or hear is powerful; it is painful, but the giver of the story has-through grace and grit-overcome that chapter of their life. You are inspired by the wisdom and the lessons learned and the now-evident working of God's hand in that person's life. 

I have read a lot of blog posts like the ones I've described. I am grateful for people, strangers often, who invited me to learn from their stories, their struggles, and their mistakes. Nearly every blog post I've read, whether it be about depression, eating disorders, grief, suicidal ideation, sexual assault, self harm, or anxiety is written through the eyes of a person who has made it to the other side. Even if they haven't fully overcome their demons, they are in a place where they feel peace. They feel a distance from the once-suffocating experiences that come with mental illness. 

As I have read these blogs, I feel the contradicting feelings of hope and discouragement. I find hope in another person's success, but it is always followed by the nagging, desperate voice that cries, "When will this be me? When do I get to write my blog post, claiming my victory over my depression?" 

What do you do when you're in the middle?

I believe that every person who bravely shares their stories seeks to do so for their own peace and for the betterment of others. They are looking to shatter the stigmas surrounding the taboo, messy subjects that are embedded in human suffering. For that I am grateful. But sometimes, reading a story that has a resolution while my story is in chaos is not what I need. Sometimes, reading the stories of "fixed" or "healed" people pushes me into silence as it makes me feel that, somehow, I can't publicly share until I've gotten over all my issues. 

Sometimes what I need is someone who is in the middle like me. I need someone to write a blog post that says, yes, they struggled to get out of bed this morning too. Yes, making their bed was an act of obedience to God when all they wanted to do was crawl right back in and forget about their day. Yes, they feel numb and pained and anxious and lonely. 

Even as our society is becoming more understanding of mental health issues, it still feels incredibly taboo, especially in the church. I struggled with my depression for years before admitting it to my pastor and my women's group. I find that it is awkward whenever I bring depression up in a large group of Christians and yet when I speak to many Christians one on one, I find that my fellow believer is also suffering or has suffered with depression in the past. 

I want awkward prayer groups. I want people to be real and honest with what's going on in their lives. It is incredible to see how when one person breaks down the barriers of social politeness and begs for prayer for the deepest hurts of their heart how others will nod and whisper, "I feel that too".

If you find yourself in the middle of a struggle, whatever struggle, do not feel that you cannot speak of it. You were made for community. You were made to be supported. You don't need to wait until you have neatly tied up your lose destruction. Jesus said, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick". Jesus came to save us in our sinful, broken state. If our Lord accepts us and loves us as we are, how can we do less for one another?