Come in Depression September 30 2008

September 30 2008

It has been a while since you last heard from me. Several times I wanted to ‘let you in’ to see how we were doing, but I couldn’t. I know everyone will say they understand and they weren’t expecting anything, but I know what it is like to start a story and then not have the next installment to read.

For a time there, it was nigh impossible to put two sentences together and have it sound like I was a native speaker. And I am not sure what you are about to read will make much sense. My only suggestion is to read it slowly, maybe that will help.

The three boys and I have been in Austin for a few days. We are next headed to the Dallas area, then to Arkansas to spend a few days with Bethany. Please continue to think about us as we wade into the waters of what it means to be 7 Shoreys, after having had the honor for the last 11 years to be 8 Shoreys. It is certainly different, and not better, but it can still be good.

Here goes…

Come in Depression, you are not a surprise visitor. Wrap your arms around me; I don’t summon the drive to resist. You are a melancholy sadness without the kindness of tears. A desert. Dry, flat, seemingless,

Depression, but not despair. See, Despair is a door in Depression’s house I will to not enter. Despair lures me into a non-life through the portal of self-pity, down the tunnel of dark thoughts and paralyzing fear. It whispers; ‘This is impossible. Don’t go on. Give up. Just stop. Leave. Run away, if not in body, then at least in mind. Go through the motions… who cares…

But a trickling hope is still hope. Because that other voice, the one you’ve heard so often, whispers truth again, “this is hard. go on. look up. Don’t stop - just rest. remain. stand fast, if not like a mighty warrior at least like a stubborn habit. Go through the door..I care, your friends care, your kids care…

So, not Despair,

But Depression has presented it’s card and been ushered in, because there is a hole in my heart, deceptively deep. And no matter what I shovel in, nothing fills it. Either it is too big, or I am not big enough. Despite the distractions or positive thoughts or busy-ness, Depression is not put off, it stays in the parlor, waiting.

All the future life scenarios are overwhelming. Doing everything with half of me is beyond daunting, it’s disheartening. No wonder Depression sauntered in so easily.

But there IS hope.  Hope that I too will be rejoicing beyond belief when the time comes. Hope that I will be used and changed and fully alive again, not dim, but bright and colorful. Hope that I can bring hope to others because hope has been gifted to me. That is something to look forward to, even as I acutely dread many of the days to come.

As for now, Depression is here in the sitting room, but so is Hope. And even though they have visited others together before on so many occasions, they still don’t end up getting along. I have a hunch that Hope will outlast Depression, and Hope will be a regular visitor. Who knows? Hope may even choose to move in. I’ve seen it happen before.

So come in Hope, I’m sure I can find you a room if you choose to stay.