The Shadow Valley...

This week in Kansas City, the public has been slapped in the face with the reality of mental illness.  A popular meteorologist who exuded bonhomie and enthusiasm on the air, was, in fact, struggling with his own personal demon, chronic depression.  The demon won, and he committed suicide this past Tuesday.  His family, to their credit, (a little late, but better late than never,) has asked us all to talk about the terminal illness which took his life.  I am happy to oblige, since it's a subject near and dear to me, having struggled with it myself since childhood.

Despair is a strong human emotion.  Most people have felt some variety of it at one time or another - no matter how others view our problems, when we own them, they are significant.

Some people can achieve great things from the valley of despair.  It can motivate them to make positive changes, and it can give them the kick they need to jump start a failing effort.

But not everyone can turn those negative moments into something positive.  For others, despair is overwhelming and painful.  It begins to feel that your own skin is too tight, and the world would be better off without you.  The burden you know yourself to be, especially to the others who are most important in your life, cause you to shut them out, as if, by removing yourself from them, you are somehow insulating them from the hurt you are causing.

There are no easy solutions for despair or depression.  The pain felt by the mind turning inward upon itself is deeper and wider than any bridge that can be built by another human being.  When you are locked inside the glass house of your own mind, you only see the rich and fulfilling lives of those you envy and wish to be.  That you hold the key in your own hand is unrecognized, because it is disguised, invisible.

Christians are not exempt from times of despair or depression.  There are many difficult moments on the Christian journey where things are out of control, bad things happen, life seems unfair.  Christians lose children, spouses, jobs, homes.  They have trials and travails, sometimes life and death struggles, and there is no insulation just because you follow the path set by our God and Creator.

What we do have, however, what we can hang on to, is the covenant God has made with us to be there on the journey.  He sanctified and redeemed us through the blood and resurrection of his beloved Son, and he has promised that when we walk in faith he will be at our beck and call.

Although scholars don't know for certain, it is speculated that the last chapters of the Book of Isaiah were written either during the end of the time of exile in Babylon, or immediately after the fall, when the Jews returned to Jerusalem.  During this time, they questioned their struggles, and wondered where their God could be found.  His answer was direct and succinct, a response rooted in immediate needs being met.

 "Then you will call to the LORD, and he will answer you.  You will cry out to him, and he will say, 'Here I am.'"  Isaiah 58:9a (Easy-To-Read Version)

When you are walking alone, the path rocky and hard to follow, you are not by yourself.  God has provided us a road map in the Bible, and a guide in the promise of the resurrection of his only son.  If you are feeling despair, reach out to your friends and family, and cry out to your God.  He will be there, through those who love you, and through his own comforting presence in your life.

You have only to ask, and God will show up.  It's a sacred promise, sanctified in the body and blood of his son.  That is the real gift of this season.  It's a promise that lasts the whole year through.