As I lay awake, a barrage of worn-out concerns began to flood my mind. "How long will I have to endure the emotional, psychological and physical ravages of depression?" "How long will I feel so alone?" "How long will it take me to heal from such a devastating divorce and the loss of a woman I still love?"
If everything had gone according to the status quo, exhaustion would have had its way, and, eventually, I would have fallen asleep again. A two-year track record of restless nights told me so. But that night was different.
For another hour my thoughts ran unchecked, contemplating concerns I had processed a hundred, maybe a thousand times over. "Will hardship never end?" "Are there no answers to my questions?" "Is God anywhere to be found?" "Will He not give me the relief I've prayed for?"
Memories of my ex-wife played through my mind like a montage of unedited video clips. Some longer, some shorter. Some included sound bites and some were just images, but they all flashed by uncontrollably. The good times and the bad, the richer and the poorer, those in sickness and those in health...married and divorced. Contrasts between images of a happy family man and a desperate, empty divorce' were pure torture. Though I knew that God had forgiven me for my sins, I continued to feel an abundance of guilt, shame and disappointment about the way my life was turning out. I grew more nauseated by the minute while thoughts of suicide returned to weave themselves among the depression and memories of days- gone-by.
Nighttime was the worst. As if the daily trauma and persecution of divorce proceedings were not enough, there was no one to come home to and no one who knew everything I was going through. No wife. No friends. No family. Not one soul. Each day's pain built upon the previous without relief.
How may nights were there when all I could manage was to sob and cry out to God for mercy? How many times did I almost give up? I may not know the number, but I do remember the excruciating pain of being all alone, desperate for a kind word and cruelly lacking the embrace of another human being. I just couldn't smother the pain. On the worst nights, desperate for a solution, trembling from fear and crying from guilt, shame and loneliness, I remember ripping the comforter off of my bed, throwing it around me, grabbing both ends and pulling it as hard as I could, just so I could feel like God was there .... holding me.
Crying just didn't seem to be the thing to do that night. I had done enough of that. From experience, I knew that if I couldn't turn my mind away from the things that brought me down, I would continue to fuel the emotional pain and the downward spiral of depression. Slowly, almost literally, I began to feel the need to regurgitate each and every oppressive thought.
I rose up out of bed and went into the bathroom, but my need was spiritual, not physical. I picked up a red pencil and a small piece of card-stock, the backing from a stack of checks long-since empty. Though it was the only thing I had to write on, it was tailor-made to symbolize the emotional and spiritual bankruptcy I was feeling. For the next half-hour, I wrote the following verses:
Deep in the mist of despair, gray turns to black though the sightless see light. And the concept of being is lost from the self, worn away by the pity and delusions of hope. Untruths ever-present in the forefront of thought fan the fires of evil which torment the soul. The emotion of fear, unfettered by doubt, paralyzes change for the good, undermining attempts to find the way home to the love of the Lord, my God.
What a relief! Right there in front of me was the description of how I felt and why I felt that way. But when I re-read the verses, the same words began to trouble me. Was I hopeless? Was I really alone? Did I really have to face evil all by myself?
As quickly as I had asked these questions, I felt the
presence of the Holy Spirit. Inspired by His inaudible
counsel, I flipped the card-stock over and wrote, "The Lord
replies as Romans,
Chapter 8." This was a first for me. My
history of desperate pleas to God had come naturally.
Listening to God and responding to His "still small voice"
was something new.
I hurried back into the bedroom, grabbing my Bible from the foot of the bed, clumsily searching for the Book of Romans. "Let's see. Matthew, Luke, Philippians. Too far! Acts. Romans! OK. Chapter Five, Six, Seven. Eight!" I could hardly stand the suspense. As a relatively new Christian, I had read the Book of Romans once the year before, but I had no recollection of what it said. I had no idea of the value it held for me.
In Romans Chapter 8, I began to read about the Holy Spirit and how He transforms our lives. I read that the mind of the sinful man is death, but the mind controlled by the Holy Spirit is life and peace. I read that when we receive the Holy Spirit through faith in Jesus Christ, we are not a slave to fear, for the Spirit helps us in our weakness. Every concern written in my verse was laid to rest in that chapter, a wonderful feeling of comfort and a true blessing from God. But nothing touched me as deeply as the last few verses in that chapter. For that moment in time, contrasted to the lonely and deeply troubling words of the verses I had just written, feeling as though I had been separated from God, I knew that the verses of Romans 8:35-39 had been written entirely for me.
"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger of sword? No, .. neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
From that point forward, I have never felt truly alone. The Lord has been with me in the good times and the bad, the richer and the poorer, and those in sickness and health. I have come to know that God promises never to leave or forsake me. I think I need someone who can keep a promise like that.
Lord, help me to learn that, as your child, I will never be separated from you. Take my hand and walk near to me, for I desire to know you more. Amen