My Beautiful Affliction – Part I

I remember around the age of ten my family lived in Knoxville, TN. I was sitting in a very strange waiting room with what seemed like the whole city. It probably felt that way because I was in very unfamiliar territory. I had been in the waiting rooms of doctors or dentists, but now I was in a place that I didn’t even know why I was there. All I know, is that my mother who was always my faithful companion in the land of waiting rooms, was right next to my side, she was my Samwise to my Frodo. My palms sweaty, knees weak, and my arms were heavy (thank God I had no vomit on my shirt and my mom didn’t cook spaghetti, lol). Next thing I know I am being called back by some lady to follow her to God knows where. My mother right by my side grabs my hand and walks back with me. She will never know how much her grabbing my hand, brought a small bit of peace, inside of young boy who had no idea what was awaiting him. We were ushered back into an office, which to my surprise was pretty welcoming, it was very warm and inviting. Next thing you know this short balding gentlemen walked through the door and introduced himself. To this day I can’t remember his name. He explained to me that he is a psychiatrist and he wants to help me. It was all starting to make sense to me a little. My parents who were very loving, had trouble processing a child who was very emotional. My father who grew up during the time of Jim Crow and who grew up most of his life without his father, was a man who didn’t show a lot of emotions. He had to grow up quick and emotions were really not allowed or talked about. My mother I would learn later, had her own demons to fight. So, you have these two people with this child whom they love, but had no idea how to help. How to guide him when he would have daily emotional breakdowns.

Sitting in that office I formed a view of myself. It was that emotions were bad and I have a lot of them, which means that I was created wrong. I spent the rest of my middle school and high school years trying to figure out how to become “tougher.” Yet, in the depths of my soul it was like a rollercoaster. Highs and lows daily, but I tried my best to suppress and fight it. Until I couldn’t take anymore and suicide became a real option for me. There were a few times I had it planned out, but something would stop me. Maybe I was just a coward? Maybe I was worried about the impact on my family? As I got older, I began to realize it was actually the merciful hand of God. Fast forward to my college years (stay with me. I promise we are going somewhere).

At the age of 19 I became a follower of Jesus. Through a radical experience, I committed my life to his service. The first year was unreal, it was like I was walking in a new world. To be honest, the depression seemed to have walked out my life forever and it felt great. However, a year into this journey, I found myself at the edge of my bed with a knife in hand ready to slit my wrist. I came to a moment where I wanted to draw a line in the sand with God and said “either heal me or kill me. I can’t take this pain anymore.” I was a part of a church community that believed (like I still do) in the power of prayer and healing. They prayed for me to be healed and to be honest something changed in me for a time. I felt a relief for a season. Unfortunately this didn’t last. A few years later I found myself at the end of my rope again. Yet this time I was married with two kids, running a business and a ministry. I realized I was in an interesting spot. On the outside I was doing everything I had always wanted to do, but on the inside I was dying. I just didn’t want the pain anymore. I was also very frustrated at God because I thought like everyone else has at some point in life “If you’re so loving and kind, why don’t you heal me?” I was seeing him do miracles in other people’s lives but not my own. I felt like God had given me the stiff arm, so in my heart I was giving him the middle finger. This depression was affecting every part of my life. It was causing issues in my marriage, distance from my kids, and I kept asking the questions: Why would God make me this way? Does he not care about me or at least others around me? Why doesn’t he just take my life? I am a Pastor, I can’t struggle like this! Why don’t I just take my life? All these questions flooded my mind like a torrential down pour. I was in the darkest place I had ever been in my life and I honestly had no hope I would come out of it. One day I found myself screaming out to Him “please fix me!” I wasn’t really expecting to get an answer, I honestly just wanted to scream at God. Yet, in that moment, from within the core of my being, I heard that still small voice. That voice that you know is from your Creator. I heard “my grace is sufficient”. I immediately pulled out my phone and launched my bible app and went to 2 Corinthians 12:9, where God spoke the same thing to Apostle Paul.

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me”.

For the majority of my life I had honestly hated how God made me. In this moment I realized that maybe God was allowing this affliction to happen to me, so that we could do something wonderful through me! The truth is no one in their right mind really wants or enjoys being afflicted. Matter of fact, we spend most of our lives trying to insulate ourselves from pain and hardships. Then when trials happen, we spend all of our time trying to get out of it. Instead, maybe we should dive a little deeper to see what God is doing. Since that moment, I have seen my depression not as a “wrong way” I have been made, but something beautiful.

Till this day, the 2 Corinthians verse will echo in my mind to remind me of God’s truth. Ever since my perspective was changed, God has done incredible things through my brokenness. God’s grace has been upon me to be able to communicate the fullness of my struggle while at the same moment showcasing how God is faithful to strengthen me in any situation that previously would cause me to take a quick downward spiral. The simple fact that I can share my story has prompted many people to experience healing and encounter truth.

Over the next few posts I will dive deeper into my journey with depression and emotions communicating the lessons I have learned with the desire of producing hope for anyone that comes in contact with these blogs.