There was a time when I couldn’t see the next step in front of me. In the beginning, I couldn’t see past the current moment.
Right after the hospital, I went home to find myself in what felt like a fuzzy nightmare. Sometimes even a prison. Only those who have experienced the dark cell of depression know what it’s like. Simply put, the description only gives it partial justice. All I know is that I needed strength to face that day.
Sitting on the couch after my release, numbed to the pale sun shining through the window curtain, I knew I had nowhere else to go. And yet, all I wanted to do was run away. There was a whole world out there, a whole span of life just waiting to unfold in front of me, and yet I could not see past the moment. It was as if God had given me just enough strength for that moment, and that moment alone.
The house creaked the sound of silence and solitude. I waited for the sound of laughter like in my former days, before the onset of depression. Yet this was the beginning of the absence of joy—the day of patiently waiting to feel the sun again. And patience required strength.
I stared into the space of the vacant living room, wishing I could see past the current moment. I was as immovable as the furniture my eyes traced back and forth. Since my mind was stagnant and yet unfixed all the same. It takes strength to sit alone with your thoughts when your thoughts are not exactly your own.
And yet, strength I was given. Enough strength for that day. And just like every day, the sun soon descended, and the window darkened, and it was time for sleep again. And all I know is that I was given the strength to get through another day of depression.
Jesus said, “Give us this day our daily bread.” And I just wonder if by “bread” he meant strength.
Lesson Learned:
Focus on this day, because grace and strength are given for this day alone. Don’t worry about tomorrow, tomorrow has enough troubles of its own.