Hopelessness

By Bindu Adai Mathew

The torrid rains of April are falling.

A flashflood into my emotionally overwrought soul.

Tears fall from my eyes like overfilled buckets,

Like Noah, I watch as the waters rise above my head.

I choke on the hurt and gasp for air,

But unlike Noah, I see no salvation, drowning in my own despair. 

There is nothing.

No God. No hope. Nothing.

Except more rain.

 

I imagine this is what hopelessness feels like. I imagine that possibly this is what the son of Rick Warren, author of the Purpose Driven Life, felt like before he committed suicide in early April.

Depression isn’t prejudiced like we are. It doesn’t pick and choose based on gender, height, or financial status. It doesn’t care if we are Christian or not…even if we’re the child of a famous pastor…depression hits us all. And it can feel overwhelming. At times our depression is the result of a situation and can be temporary. For some, depression can be clinical and an on-going life struggle.

Most of us are fortunate to rise above the rising waters and find our hope again. And some continue to fight. If you’re fighting depression today, I encourage you to let go of the cloak of shame. Don’t let it prevent you from seeking the help you need, the help you AND your loved ones deserve. Because no matter how hopeless it seems and appears, it is a lie, no matter how real it may seem. With God, we always have hope. And that is something we all need to be reminded of.

 “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”  Psalms 30:5

I Am In The Rainy Season

By JMathis

I am in the rainy season.

Tidal waves of despair threaten to steal my well-being.

Flash floods of sadness threaten to kill my fruitful harvest.

The crackling bolts of fear threaten to destroy my peace.

To steal, kill and destroy are my enemy’s marching orders, and his thundering fists of defeat threaten to deafen and darken my hope.

The monsoon threatens to engulf and flatten my earthly castles and I howl angrily into the air, desperately in search of my Father.

Where are you???

I search for signs. I panic.

I listen for the sounds of rescue. I become anguished.

The storm rages on and my patience is battered and bruised.

I fall onto my knees, accepting that the waters will overtake me.

Confused, frustrated and disillusioned.

After what seems like hours, days and months, it is then that I hear His Voice:

I am in the rainy season.”

I look up in the torrential downpour and I see Him.

I see Him on the cross, naked and forsaken. Pummeled by the gusts of my sin and hopelessness.

It was then that it washes over me that He was on the cross throughout the entirety of my rainy season, preparing my escape.

Preparing my liberation. Preparing my victory.  

Preparing my redemption from the jaws of the enemy.

The tempest threatened to steal, kill and destroy my salvation, but my salvation hung on the cross faithfully until my future was secured.

I am in the rainy season.”

While the squalls of sin threatened to bury me, my Savior stayed on the cross until It Was Finished.

It was then that my spirit was flooded with the knowledge that It Was Finished 2,000 years ago.

It was indeed finished, so why was I allowing the enemy to steal my well-being? To kill my fruitful harvest? To destroy my peace?

To deceive me with empty, powerless threats?

I had forgotten that my Savior placed me on higher ground, on wings of eagles, in the palm of His safety, far removed from the sting of death and the barbs of the enemy.

He did all of this just for me, over 2,000 years ago, long before my rainy season.

Like a child, I had forgotten.

I had forgotten that the joy of the Lord is my strength. I had forgotten that His mercies renew every morning. I had forgotten that Love Never Fails.

Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you.”

I had forgotten that my Lord is King, Commander and Master over my rainy season.

I had forgotten.

I am in the rainy season and It Is Finished.

Yes, Father, you are in the rainy season and it is finished.

Help me never again to forget.