Secret No Longer

One of the sweet young mothers that I've been privileged to meet over the Internet is Stephanie Hanes. We haven't met in person but I read her blog, I've broken bread with her (well, I've broken the delicious home made bread that I won through her blog and that's the same thing as far as I'm concerned), and I've bought items from her Etsy shop.

Last year her beloved grandpa died on the anniversary of my grandpa's death. We shared several private emails about our losses that shall remain private. (Private conversations are not the kind of secret that I'll reveal. Ever.)

And her youngest child was born on my 50th birthday. I joked that Little "A" and I could schedule a mutual party for my 100th and his 50th birthday. Well, that might be a little hard to do. He lives in Wisconsin and I live in Ohio. :)

Okay, I feel like I know a bit about Stephanie. And she knows a bit about me, too, including my real name. That would be necessary for mailing me the Etsy purchase and the bread.

Anyway, there was something that drew me to this gal. I believe it is the Holy Spirit. I heard Him say a couple of years ago, "You need to be friendly to her." As mentioned, there are many reasons why I think this is so. But today another reason came to light.

Today Stephanie revealed that she suffers from depression. She shared her story on her blog. (Read it here.) As I told her, I think it is time for the stigma of depression to go away. I have no clue why anyone would think that another person would want to feel this way (to get sympathy?) or why they don't just "snap out of it." Oh, if only it were that easy. People with depression are not misbehaving children. There are very real physical and spiritual reasons behind it.

Like Stephanie, I talked to my doctor about depression. That was several years ago. And we found a physical cause ("female problem," and I won't elaborate). Once it was corrected, my life got a whole lot cheerier. Oh, I still had some spiritual causes to deal with (like feelings of inadequacy and perfectionistic tendencies) but correcting the physical and spiritual triggers restored my emotional health significantly. (This was totally unrelated to the Horrible Spring of 1989 for which I should've at least gotten a survivor's t-shirt. Understandably, grief is also a very real source of depression.) I know that seeking proper treatment will restore Stephanie's health also.

Thanks for sharing your story, Stephanie. I'm praying for you and for all of us who think that if we could just be "a better person" we could rid ourselves of this "problem."

The Great Physician often uses a human physician to restore us to health. But we can't be restored if we don't ask for help.

(I'd like to thank our friend, Travis, for the enlightening sermon on Psalm 42 last summer.  You have no idea how encouraging it was for me to learn that the psalmist, David, suffered in like manner.  In fact, I keep the notes I took that night on my desk next to this computer.  "Where's your God?" is the taunt.  "My hope is in God!" is the answer.)