Recently we learned of the tragic passing of Robin Williams,
and as a result, there have been numerous articles and items circulating on
social media trying to raise awareness of mental illness and depression. I have only read through a few of those many
articles, as I am quite aware of what depression looks like. Up
close and personal. Not me personally,
but my husband Eric.
Eric has been battling depression for most of his adult life,
and it feels like a constant merry-go-round (with a little less of the “merry”
... really just a “go-round”). It’s
not just a “go-round” for Eric, trying to plod his way through every day, but it’s
a “go-round” for me too, praying and hoping for wholeness and healing. But this is what life looks like for us,
every day. This is our “normal”.
We were all around the supper table one evening last week
and Eric tried to start a conversation with our sons about depression and
suicide in the wake of Robin Williams’ death.
He apologized for not being able to do regular family things with the
boys, like going on family camping trips, or taking them out
golfing. Our youngest son had a
perplexed sort of look on his face and commented, “But we’ve never known
anything different”.
I hope my sons know how tough their Dad is, to keep
pressing on through life, even when most days he would rather just curl up in a
ball and block out the world. Eric sees
himself as weak, but his perspective is skewed by his depression. Eric’s depression shouts out to him that he
is useless and a failure and depression doesn’t allow much ground for truth, the truth
that he is loved, wanted and valued, to take root and grow.
I wasn’t aware that this is what life would look like for us
when I walked down the aisle and said “I do” just over 25 years ago. But I knew then, and I still know now, that
Eric is who God has partnered me with on our journey through life. I don’t know that I would have understood how
important prayer is, or who God is for me, had I not been on this life path
with Eric.
I will still continue to pray for wholeness and healing for
Eric, and I will continue to have grace for him to be in the space he’s in, and
I will continue to try and sow those seeds of truth. But in
the middle of it all, I will hold on (hang tight!) to my God, who is my strength, my refuge,
and my hope.
Psalm 62 has always been one of my most favorite psalms,
even before I met Eric:
1 I wait
quietly before God,
for my victory comes from him.
2 He alone is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress where I will never be shaken.
for my victory comes from him.
2 He alone is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress where I will never be shaken.
5 Let all
that I am wait quietly before God,
for my hope is in him.
6 He alone is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress where I will not be shaken.
7 My victory and honor come from God alone.
He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me.
8 O my people, trust in him at all times.
Pour out your heart to him,
for God is our refuge.
for my hope is in him.
6 He alone is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress where I will not be shaken.
7 My victory and honor come from God alone.
He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me.
8 O my people, trust in him at all times.
Pour out your heart to him,
for God is our refuge.


