I believed the lies of the spirit of self-hatred, causing me to hate anything that represented imperfection in myself and believing others and God did too. After allowing years of derogatory statements by others to pierce my heart, I listened to the taunts of the spirits of self-hatred, self-rejection, self-condemnation, self-pity, self-bitterness, self-resentment, and unforgiveness. I even began to punish myself.
God’s Word declares, “How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!’” (Isa. 52:7). Unaware of what the Word said, rather than agreeing with God’s truth and seeing my feet as beautiful, I looked at my physical deformity and hated it. I rejected that imperfect part of myself and “punished” that foot by never letting it take the first step as a way of acknowledging that its imperfection made it and me inferior.
I also lived much of my life agreeing with the spirit of fear rather than believing God’s truth: God did not give me the spirit of fear, but instead he gave me power, love, and a sound mind (2 Tim. 1:7). When my father died suddenly and unexpectedly during my adolescent years, my first thought was wrapped up in fear: “What do I have to do to help support the family?” The enemy taunted me with, “If God would take your father, what makes you think he won’t take your home, your finances, and the rest of your family?” Believing that lie just further entrenched fear in my life. I reacted with the belief that I couldn’t trust God and could depend only on myself. That was a very lonely and depressing place to live.
After decades of agreeing with the enemy’s characterization of me rather than believing what God said, I lived under the weight of the spirit of heaviness. I frequently woke in the morning feeling covered by a blanket of oppression, followed by days lived in despair and feelings of hopelessness. Those days were often governed by my feelings instead of by God’s truth. But feelings are not reliable. Our feelings are the outward manifestation of the thoughts we believe.
When we feel fearful, worried, or anxious, those emotions are the outward representation of what we have believed (e.g., “Something bad is going to happen,” “I can’t trust God to take care of me,” “God’s Word is true for others but not for me,” etc.). When we feel angry, we behave in ways that are consistent with what we have believed to be true (i.e., “I’ve been wronged,” “Others have intentionally hurt me,” “I have to protect myself,” etc.). When we feel sad, blue, or depressed, our emotions are a representation of the conscious or subconscious thoughts we have believed (i.e., “I’m not good enough,” “I don’t deserve better than this,” “I’m always rejected,” etc.). For many years I accepted the lie that “I’ll probably always feel this way.” Do any of these sound familiar?
Stress, anger, and the belief that our situation will never change (hopelessness or helplessness) can all lead to varying degrees of depression. The Bible talks about oppression and a spirit of heaviness, which is depression. Typically, I find that many spirits work together to exacerbate the effects. In my own life, I know the spirit of heaviness was a propelling force in my spiral down to depression’s valley. I also agreed with the lies presented to me through guilt, self-hatred, and self-pity that contributed to bitterness, anger, and a rejection of myself. I was unaware of the invisible war waged against me, but I was also unaware of what God’s truth said about me, making me an easy, defenseless target. I find this to be true of many of my patients as well.
For decades I was unaware of the evil forces operating against me, attempting to separate me from God and his truth. I was physically and emotionally perishing because of this lack of knowledge. That is why I want to share this knowledge with you. I was compelled to write this book to share what I learned so that others can experience the abundant life Jesus promised. In the next few chapters, we will uncover what the enemy does to make us depressed and keep us there. Then we will explore what, by God’s grace, God won’t allow the enemy to do to us.
You wouldn’t be reading this book right now if you or a loved one didn’t struggle with at least shadows of a spirit of heaviness and depression. Breaking the emotional chains of depression that weigh us down under that spirit of heaviness is a process. God’s Word reveals to us in Isaiah 61:3 that one of the keys in that process is to offer God our praise. It’s hard to remain beaten down and oppressed when we are praising the Lord. If you continue to praise him as you read this book and do the recommended exercises at the end of each chapter, he will meet you where you are!
Are you ready to learn the enemy’s tactics to keep you under the blanket of heaviness?
Your Rx
Look up the following verses: Psalm 42:5; Jeremiah 29:11; John 15:11; 1 John 4:4. Write them on index cards and place them where you will see them frequently. Read each of these passages aloud three times daily, committing them to memory.
List the potential chemical, genetic, medical, and environmental conditions in your life that may have had a role in your depression.
Prayerfully ask the Lord, “Father, what lies of the enemy have I believed that contribute to my depression and detract from my ability to live life fully?” Write down his response to you. Then pray, “Father, show me your truth. Give me the faith to believe your truth rather than the lies that seem true.” Record what he reveals to you.
My Prayer for You
Father, your Word says in Isaiah 54:17 that no weapon formed against us will prevail. I thank you that you give us so much grace when we make mistakes and when we believe lies that are not in agreement with your truth. I thank you that you show us so much mercy and that you’ve led this dear child of yours to read these pages in an effort to exchange despair for gladness. Father, I pray that your Holy Spirit will minister to this person’s heart and bring a fresh revelation of your truth. I thank you, Lord, that no matter what exists in our genetic inheritance, no matter what difficult circumstances we encounter, and no matter what the enemy plots to harm us, you are bigger and greater than all of it and that it’s your desire for us to be in health and to live life to the full. Because of the hope we have in Jesus, amen.
Recommended Playlist
“While I Am Waiting,” John Waller, © 2007 by Reunion Records
“We Will Not Be Shaken,” Bethel, © 2015 by Bethel Music
“Our God Reigns Here,” John Waller, © 2011 by City of Peace Media Inc.
“Begin Again,” Jason Gray, © 2014 by Centricity Music
“Cover Me,” Zach Neese, © 2011 by Gateway Create Publishing
“We Won’t Be Shaken,” Building 429, © 2013 by Essential Records
“Nearness,” Bethel, © 2015 by Bethel Music
“Break the Chains,” John Waller, © 2014 by Label Me Not
4
Recognize You Have an Enemy
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
We will never achieve the levels of peace, joy, and effectiveness to which we are called if we are being influenced by evil in certain compartments of our lives.
Robert Morris
The previous chapter revealed that there are many potential contributors to depression and that frequently a combination of factors turns a case of the blues or a subjective feeling of sadness into depression. Regardless of the cause, and while everyone’s experience is unique, depression has some fairly predictable spiritual consequences.
When we consider depression, we think of how it impacts our emotional and mental functioning. But if we don’t arrest the downward spiral, over time it swells from affecting our emotional and mental functioning to negatively impacting our bodies and our spiritual health. In short, depression affects our entire being.
Depression hurts in so many ways, and the pain and emotional turmoil, to a very large degree, can feel like a broken heart. Scripture attests to this: “A happy heart makes the face cheerful, but heartache crushes the spirit” (Prov
. 15:13).
Let’s look at what the enemy does to us through depression.
Depression Turns Us into Someone We Don’t Recognize
After eleven years of marriage, I became pregnant with our first child. My husband and I were both so excited, as were the grandparents—who I suspect had almost given up on the idea of receiving grandchildren from our union. My mother was especially ecstatic, as this would be her first grandchild from either my brother or me. I had imagined for years what it would be like to bring a baby into this world and to be a mother. I had all sorts of expectations for our life as a family. But when depression descended, those expectations dissipated like a dream upon waking, and even this wondrous time of life took on a gray, cheerless tone.
After a healthy pregnancy and a fairly routine labor and delivery, we brought our son home from the hospital. I felt like the happiest mother who ever lived. Shortly afterward, however, I didn’t recognize myself anymore. It was as if I had gone to bed one night a happy mother of a newborn and woken up the next day feeling devastated, like I had lost everything. Even when the baby wasn’t crying, I was.
I had no idea why I was crying. Nor could I stop. Tears sprang from nowhere. I loved this sweet baby. I was so happy to finally be a mother, yet all I could do was cry. I’m not talking about the little sniffle that follows the predictable sad ending of a chick flick. I lapsed into uncontrollable weeping in response to trivial events like knocking a paper off the countertop—or nothing in particular. I wasn’t in pain. It couldn’t yet be attributed to weeks of newborn-induced sleep deprivation. I was not yet overwhelmed with the daily schedule of caring for an infant. I didn’t know why I was crying, and nothing helped to stop the tears. I tried sleeping when the baby slept. I made sure I ate well. I took the baby in his stroller for daily walks to get my exercise. Warm showers only signaled to my body that it was time to nurse. Nothing helped.
There wasn’t much I could say for certain during that time. I only knew this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I had brought home a precious, healthy, beautiful baby boy. I couldn’t have asked for more, but it seemed I couldn’t feel worse. This wasn’t anything like I had expected. I knew I should be happy, but I just couldn’t find my happy place.
I was ill equipped and began to feel not only devastated but also like a personal failure. I hadn’t seen any of my friends go through anything like this. And it certainly didn’t look like any of TLC’s programming about babies and motherhood. This situation was so much harder than nine months of pregnancy or labor and delivery, and it wasn’t improving.
My mother called to check on us one evening during one of my frequent crying spells. When she asked what was wrong, I gave her the same tearful response I gave anyone who asked: “I don’t know. I just can’t stop crying.” After a few more questions, she identified my tormenter and explained that I was suffering from postpartum depression. She made me promise to hang up the phone with her and immediately contact my physician.
It helped a little to know what I was dealing with, to have a name for it. But that knowledge alone wasn’t enough to rid me of the despair I felt. That would be like knowing a hurricane is coming and expecting that knowledge to be enough to repair the damage sustained in its wake. I had heard of postpartum depression before, but I couldn’t relate to it in my childless years. All I knew was that I no longer felt like myself.
Depression can turn us into a person we don’t recognize. Sometimes the transformation happens seemingly overnight, as in my case after the birth of my son. For others depression slowly infiltrates daily life over weeks or months or years, like when you step onto a scale for the first time in a while and think, “When did I put on thirty pounds?” Depression can take you from the person you used to be and turn you into someone your spouse, your kids, and your friends don’t understand, leaving them to wonder, “What happened?”
We see in his writings that David experienced the same thing and lamented to God about his state of despair: “But LORD and King, help me so that you bring honor to yourself. Because your love is so good, save me. I am poor and needy. My heart is wounded deep down inside me” (Ps. 109:21–22 NIrV). Yet David went on to share hope. “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Ps. 147:3). That is God’s commitment to us. While we may feel broken and wounded in our despair, God promises to heal those places in us.
The Truth about How God Sees Us
While depression can turn us into someone we don’t recognize, it can help to remember that Jesus sees us not only as we are but also as we can be. Jesus is God, and God is and was and always will be (see John 1:1–3). So God in his omniscience knew our entire future before we took our first breath, and our fall into depression comes as no surprise to him, nor does our journey out of this desert land. Furthermore, the Bible tells us, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart” (Jer. 1:5). God knows where we started out, and he knows who we are and what our struggles are. He knows how his redemptive power can transform and restore us. When God looks at us, he sees the righteousness of Jesus. We are told in 2 Corinthians 5:21, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”
My go-to verse for comfort is Jeremiah 29:11: “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the LORD. ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope’” (NLT). While God sees us in our season of pain, he also knows that he has so much better in store for us after we make it through depression’s dark tunnel and arrive on the other side.
Often during periods of depression, we don’t admit to others how we really feel, and we pretend to be happier than we are. In their book The Cure, John Lynch, Bruce McNicol, and Bill Thrall note, “All masks are the product of pretending something in our lives is true, even if experience denies it.”1 Jesus looks past the masks we put on for the rest of the world to see us as we truly are, even as we try to hide the guilt, shame, and utter despair we feel. He doesn’t see our faults. He doesn’t see the things others don’t like in us. He doesn’t see those parts of us we don’t like in ourselves. No. Instead, he sees a wounded child who needs the shelter of his wing and the comfort of his healing touch so that we can assume our rightful place as his heir. He wants to take our pain, our “ashes,” and exchange them for beauty.
During my darkest days, I found hope in Isaiah 61:1–3:
The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.
This passage reminds us it’s always God’s desire to comfort his children, heal the brokenhearted, give us joy for our sadness, and show us the path to freedom.
Depression Contributes to Loneliness
Depression destroys our foundation and contributes to loneliness. My postpartum depression hit like a tsunami. I had no idea that depression would be a consequence of giving birth. I felt so alone. I didn’t personally know anyone who had suffered with postpartum depression, so I was unprepared and isolated. I began to believe the lies that I was alone in my suffering and that there was something wrong with me. I was embarrassed to talk about it.
I feared there was something inherently flawed about me th
at was making me suffer this devastation to my sense of well-being. I felt ashamed. I didn’t have the wherewithal to consider that if I was too embarrassed or ashamed to talk about my experience, perhaps others were too. In my quietness, I suffered alone. Now I realize I wasn’t really alone. Isaiah 43:2 promises, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you” (NKJV).
Did you hear what that said? Did you hear the warning? The verse doesn’t say we won’t go through difficult times. It doesn’t say we won’t feel as if we are drowning or go through times so intense that they are like walking through fire. Oh no! It warns us about when we will go through trials. We are implicitly promised that we will go through difficult times, destructive times, painful times, times that will change the landscape of our lives forever. But we will not go through them alone. God promises his presence with us the entire time. When we go through difficult times, we will not suffer alone because God will be with us.
Have you ever seen the devastating effects of a flood? Floods destroy. This verse in Isaiah took on personal meaning for me when we experienced our own flood.
We bought a home several years back. It wasn’t fancy, but we loved it. When we moved in, we gave fresh paint to every wall and decorated. We filled every room with furniture. Shortly thereafter, we went away for a week. When we returned, it was midnight and our two young ones were sleeping in the car. We unfastened their seat belts, and my husband and I each carried one in our arms. We walked into our house to find it covered from one end to the other with water. The entire week we were away, a toilet overflowed and flowed and flowed. Six inches of water blanketed the entire house. It soaked the carpets and swelled the drywall. It damaged the furniture and destroyed everything stored at ground level. Our front door sat somewhat sheltered from the road, so no one saw the water seeping out the front door or around the foundation. Even if they had, they would not have known how to reach us, for we had just recently moved in and were still strangers to the neighbors.
Hope Prevails Page 5