If I wrote only one article on handling depression, or gave just one 20-minute talk on the subject, what would I write or say?

Since childhood, I’ve experienced descents into emotional darkness and despair. In His providence, God hasn’t eradicated my depression. Yet as I look back over the decades, I see how powerfully He has sustained me.

How did He do it?

My Backstory

During 38 years as a full-time faculty member at Columbia International University, I don’t recall missing a class due to depression. Yet there were days when I spent part of my time lying in a fetal position on my office floor, so lethargic in spirit that, other than the classes, I couldn’t function.

Ironically, late in the school year of my longest and darkest descent into despondency, 2002-03, students’ ratings of my classes went through the roof! Though students typically blessed me with good ratings, that was the highest-ever evaluation of any single year of my career. Indeed, the Lord uses weak and needy people, reminding me that it’s His strength, not mine, that generates fruitfulness (2 Corinthians 4:7, 12:9-10).

God’s means of grace don’t usually remove all depression; yet through them His grace shortens its stay or tempers the severity of symptoms. He grants me days of happiness and stability, yet when a dark mood settles in, whether it lasts a day or weeks, here are three ways I deal with it.

Lament Honors the Lord

Some Christians assume that gut-level, honest praying during affliction dishonors the Lord and reveals a lack of trust in Him. I believed that viewpoint as a young adult, but that conviction evaporated as I became more familiar with God’s Word. I no longer believe that taking my doubts to Him, complaining to Him about what I perceive as His aloofness or questioning His loyalty to me is necessarily wrong or immature.

Oh, it isn’t appropriate to ball up my fists and shake them in the face of God, to grit my teeth as I spew bitterness toward Him. Somewhere there’s a line of disrespect I must not cross. But lament, as the Psalmists modeled it, expresses doubts to God, asks Him hard questions, and admits uncertainty about His goodness. A few of my favorite examples of lament are Psalm 6, 13, 42-43, and 73. Biblical laments typically end on a positive note, expressing confidence in God after venting negative feelings.

In Psalm 13, David began by wondering whether God had forgotten him and complaining that God had hidden His face from him. Several verses later, David affirmed God’s love and sang to Him because of His past faithfulness. David’s circumstance that fueled his lament didn’t change between verses 1 and 6, yet his attitude did an about-face after he approached God honestly.

Honest disclosure to God about how I feel during affliction is a sign of faith in Him, not an indication of its absence. I don’t plead with or ask hard questions of someone I don’t believe in. I don’t appeal to God when I’m hurting unless, deep down, I think He cares and is powerful enough to intervene.

I love how Mark Vroegop puts it in Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament:  “Lament is how we bring our sorrow to God. Without lament, we won’t know how to process pain. A lament reveals trust because, without hope in God’s deliverance and the conviction that He’s all-powerful, there would be no reason to lament when pain invades our lives.”

When I sense I’m approaching God disrespectfully, I admit to Him that I need to adjust my attitude. I ask Him to do the necessary work of transforming my heart and mind. Yet He wants honesty from me, not a superficial prayer that masks how I really feel or what I’m thinking.

Preach God’s Promises to Myself 

“Preaching to myself” means giving a biblically informed rebuttal to negative and untrue things I tell myself in moments of despondency or during other tests of faith. I combat discouragement, hopelessness, or any harmful, untrue thought pattern by reminding myself of what God’s Word says. The timeless promises in Scripture provide the raw material for the messages I preach to myself.

Frequently, an inner voice taunts me during depressive episodes, informing me that God doesn’t care or isn’t powerful enough to alleviate my despair. The voice says, “Things will never get better for you. You’ll never be happy again!” That’s when I quote to myself Psalm 42:11, which acknowledges the pain and yet instills hope: “Why are you in despair, O my soul? Why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him, the help of my countenance, and my God.” When I doubt God’s power during affliction, I mull over Jeremiah 32:27, where God insists, “Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh. Is anything too difficult for Me?”

Sometimes that nagging inside voice says, “Terry, it has been a long time since you went through a day with a keen awareness of God’s presence. Why in the world do you keep serving Him?” Then I remind myself that His Word is far more reliable than my feelings. He’s with me, even when I don’t feel His presence.

The key question for me isn’t, “What do I feel?” but “According to God’s Word, what is true?”  I quote to myself Isaiah 41:10: “Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.” Shifting my mental focus to God, to His character and promises, assuages my doubts and restores some degree of vitality within me.

I’m not saying that quoting a pertinent promise from God’s Word magically ends my despondency. I am saying that no matter what causes my depression, I have a spiritual battle to fight. It’s a battle of belief. Will I believe the negative self-talk that typically accompanies depression, or will I combat the lies with truth from God’s Word? Though feelings are fickle, God’s promises aren’t.

Relying on God’s Word in this manner increases my faith in Him, decreases the severity of depressive episodes, and enables me to fulfill God’s calling on my life. He’s capable of healing me completely of depression, but if He chooses not to do so, I plead with Him to redeem it. I tell Him I want His sustenance of me so I’ll still praise Him, and so others may benefit from what I’m learning through the affliction.

The most important, life-changing sermons I’ll ever hear are the ones I preach to myself. I don’t memorize God’s Word because I’m spiritual, but because I’m needy and require that fuel for the survival of my soul. (Then again, perhaps authentic spirituality involves taking my neediness to Him!)

Burdens Require the Body

Depression isn’t a battle I can win alone. Another sustaining grace for me is the Body of Christ (other believers).

Galatians 6:2 says, “Bear one another’s burdens, and thus fulfill the law of Christ.” Paul’s word for “burden” was a shipping term describing an overloaded boat that was prone to sink. When caught in the vise grip of depression, I’ve learned to lean on close friends who share my faith.

Yet no one can help me bear a burden unless I admit I’m overloaded!

Years ago, pride kept me from admitting despair. I figured I’d lose my credibility as a Christian leader and Bible teacher if others saw that I didn’t have it all together inside. I perceived that admitting to depression revealed the polar opposite of a core value of the university where I taught: victorious Christian living.

Wrong! 

Galatians 6:2 and many other relational commands in the New Testament affirm my need for others during my earthly pilgrimage.

I recall the horrendous, all-consuming despair that enveloped me on several Sunday afternoons in 2003. I didn’t think I’d survive the long hours until bedtime when sleep promised a reprieve. I’d call Louise, an elderly, homebound member of our church known for her ministry of intercessory prayer. She literally went to war for me over the phone, fervently and boldly going before God’s throne and asking Him to hold fast to me for the remainder of the day.

Since Louise’s homegoing, I often call Howard, my best friend, and pour out my pain through tears. He never fails to pray for me over the phone. Often, his own sobbing punctuates his prayers.

Everyone needs a Louise or a Howard.

Living Victoriously with Depression

Living victoriously for Christ isn’t the absence of affliction or despair. Rather, how I handle it determines whether I’m living victoriously.

Perhaps God receives more glory in my life when I’m weak and needy; when, in desperation, I call on Him to sustain me. My plea gives Him the opportunity to do what only He can do! He gets the most glory when others see that the only reason I keep going as a believer, or as a teacher and writer, is daily reliance on Him and my persistent use of His means of grace.

God’s Word acknowledges that His people are weak and needy and must run to Him and tap into His means of grace. I’ve examined three of those avenues of grace here: praying honestly when I’m hurting; memorizing His promises, believing them instead of my feelings; and exercising the transparency needed to experience the support of other Christians.

Oh, how grateful I am for the prayer prompt offered in Psalm 50:15: “Call upon me in the day of trouble; I shall rescue you, and you will honor Me.”  Charles Spurgeon, who experienced his own battles with depression, said this in his commentary on that verse: “God gets from us most glory when we get from Him much grace.”

Wow! The more I need God’s grace each day, the more opportunity He has to reveal His might and glory!

That’s why I’m transparent about my depression. It’s okay if you see me as weak, as long as you see that the Savior I lean on is strong!

Which of these three means of grace is God’s Spirit nudging you to exercise more often?

When you’re depressed, what additional means of grace have you found helpful?  I’d love to hear from you!