Grace-period

Depression sucks. Literally. It sucks the life out of the individual (sometimes literally). It sucks joy from a sunny day spent with friends. It sucks the energy to put on makeup or even wash your hair. It sucks the desire to achieve goals, or make goal, or even consider that there is anything one wants to do. It sucks you away from people who love you and who you love, creating a cocoon of depression that reinforces the depression. It sucks satisfaction from work and even fosters a hostility because the lack of energy and desire makes work, and coworkers, overwhelming. It sucks curiosity and courage leaving only emptiness and    apathy. The suction is painful, not because of the losses but because of the seeming endlessness. It snowballs. It is circular. It is cumulative. It. Sucks. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.    John 10:10 NIV I don’t believe God intended us to be depressed. Nor does he desir

When an incision is made into the body, even for happy occasions such as birthing a baby, there is muscle stretching.  Connective tissues are torn.  There is bleeding.  The surgeon tries to modify the damage-sutures and cautery. Later he closes the patient's incision and often glues the skin closed. The patient often requires special care for weeks-not too much lifting, limted exercise, pain medication, watch for infections, make sure the wound edges remain well approximated, good nutrition with protein to rebuild muscle. When my soul is torn into, why do I expect it to be over? Or perhaps, why do I expect that I should just get over it? This year has been a really, really hard year. Sometimes I can wear the same person I did last year.  Other days the mood and energy last year's person requires is too overwhelming.  Sure, I pretend pretty well at work-where I can be a functional individual without feeling the authentic weight that my spirit has put on. Smiles and laught