Everywhere I turn on social media, people are commenting on Robin Williams' tragic suicide. I haven't much, if anything, to add. Depression is a horrible affliction. Melancholy has dogged my steps for as long as I can remember, but never to the point of debilitating depression, and certainly not to thoughts of suicide. I can remember as a child thinking as I believe children often do when things didn't go as they want, that I would be better off dead, but children don't understand what death means. Neither do those contemplating suicide. I've had people ask me if someone who commits suicide gets into heaven, as tough a question as I know of. How can I be the judge of anyone's eternal destiny when it's not in my power to decide?
Those people of faith who want every answer in black and white sometimes confidently proclaim that murder is a sin, even if it is self murder, and therefore since the perpetrator has no opportunity to repent, suicide is tantamount to being eternally damned. I suspect that those who think this way have never personally struggled with depression, nor known someone who has. It's easy to pass judgment on people you don't know and love; it's a bit harder to think that way when it's your child, spouse, parent who struggles. I'm no clinician, so I cannot speak to the medical or even the psychological dimensions of this condition, but I can speak to the spiritual dimension, knowing that my feeble attempt to do so can and probably will be discounted by other equally devout people.
As a lifelong melancholic, I have often envied those who seem to be happy all the time. Why should they be so happy, while I am not? It never occurred to me that my perceptions of others might be flawed, that no one is always happy. Exhortations to lighten up or trust in God were well-meaning, but not any more effective than the invitations I received to be filled with the Holy Spirit. To someone who believes in the power of the Risen Christ, the inability to be victorious over this enemy was galling and discouraging. How could I preach the power of the Cross when I remained a prisoner to this dark evil?
It took me a long time to understand that my personal happiness is not the goal of Christian faith, and that my depression (I can only speak for myself here) was always the companion of my preoccupation with me; how I felt at any given moment. When I forced myself to focus on God or others, I always felt better. But to my knowledge, I've never been in a state of clinical depression, where I was unable to see beyond the darkness that would engulf me. I can understand how people succumb to it; when you can't even imagine not being down, let alone being happy, what alternatives are available? How can I focus on God when I'm being swallowed in this pit of despair?
What I've discovered I would not claim to be the end-all answer to this evil. I have come to believe that depression is in part spiritual, that is, it is part of the arsenal belonging to the Enemy of our souls, who lies to us deep within our hearts, telling us that our situation is hopeless. The insidiousness of this is that we don't recognize these thoughts as spiritual attack because they sound like our own voice and thoughts. Recognizing this is only part of the battle, but it is a part. He operates best in the shadows. He flees in the Light. Knowing that there is a God who will ultimately win the victory keeps me in the fight. I don't know how those who don't have this confidence can keep going.
A couple years ago, I discovered almost by accident another piece of the puzzle: the power of gratitude. The decision I made to stop dwelling upon all the negativity constantly posted on social media and instead to daily look for those things for which I am thankful was one of the best decisions I've ever made. The decision to follow Christ was a life-changer for me years ago, but while it changed the direction of my life, it didn't automatically change my thought processes. I didn't understand the enormity of God's grace, and though my theology taught otherwise, I lived as though everything depended on me, ultimately an unbearable burden. It has taken as I've said, a lifetime to learn to think differently about my feelings.
Learning to give thanks at all times and in all circumstances has been a real game changer for me. I remember the day I awoke to the realization that I wasn't feeling down anymore. My focus on gratitude was how I began to put into practice "bringing every thought captive to Christ," and ultimately how I began to see my way out of this dark place in which I lived for so long.
My heart goes out to those whose depression poisons life to the extent that they don't see a reason to keep living. It is a terrible affliction, and its victims need all the help and compassion we can offer. I am grateful to have discovered after years of living that life is truly worth living, and that happiness is really possible. The wisdom of the Scriptures often take a lifetime to discover, but it is real wisdom, and there is real help available. As to those who want to proclaim with certainty where Robin Williams is now, I can only say that I believe he is in the hands of the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who died and rose again for our eternal redemption. My hope and prayer is that this tragedy will become a catalyst for life for others who suffer as he did.
No comments:
Post a Comment