Absence and Resurrection
Biblia Luna #73
Welcome to Issue #73 of Biblia Luna, the weekly newsletter about the intersection of mental illness and faith, written by a pastor who lives with depression. I put the holy back in melancholy!
Hopefully Tomorrow: Resurrection and Writing
Some of you may be asking a question at this point: “Where have you been?” If so, it’s a good question. It’s been six weeks since I last published an issue of this weekly newsletter. Prior to that, I hadn’t missed many weeks at all. If you also follow my blog, you may have noticed that nothing’s been published there in quite some time either.
The truth is – I’ve been overwhelmed. What’s been overwhelming me? Well, there was Lent. I set out on an ambitious Lenten journey this year – to study the Psalms deeply, and also to follow the practices set out in an online course called “Lent with the Mystics.” I also intended to do some work on creating a podcast about labyrinths, as well as lay the groundwork for a mental health task force in my synod (a geographic concentration of congregations within the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America). Plus, I committed to planning and leading twice the normal number of worship services during Holy Week.
Some of this happened – some did not. And then when Easter finally arrived at the end of all that – I napped. All day. And in some ways, I have been napping ever since. I took two weeks of vacation starting on Easter Monday, during which I traveled with my family to the Niagara Falls area to see the total solar eclipse. And now, today, I’m finally ready to go back to work tomorrow, see what the remaining four weeks of the Easter season might bring at church.
That might sound like a good enough reason to put my work on Biblia Luna on hiatus for a few weeks. And while all that certainly contributed, that’s not the real reason. The reason is more typical of me – more predictable – I was feeling very depressed about it. I missed the first week just because I was tired, and decided to take the week off from it. But then after that, it turned into a spiral of worry that nobody read it or cared anyway, that I had nothing worthwhile to share with anyone, that I was wasting everybody’s time and my own.
I know this isn’t true. I’m not fishing for anybody to comment here and say, “No, I love it!” or anything like that. But I fell into the trap I so often fall into of thinking that I am useless, that I am more trouble that I am worth, that I have nothing worth sharing. Again, I know on some level that this isn’t true. Again, I’m not trying to be passive-aggressive to get comments to lift me up. Please don’t feel you have to do that. But that’s where Biblia Luna was for six weeks – lost in the maze of my own confused thoughts and emotions. And like so many other things, once you get out of the habit, it gets harder and harder to start it up again.
In Luke’s gospel, after Jesus rose from the dead, his disciples took a long time to accept it. They were gathered in a room that day, talking about the appearances that Jesus had already made to a few of them. Yet when Jesus himself appeared, and said, “Peace be with you,” they were “startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost” (Luke 24:37). Jesus then showed them his hands and his feet, told them that he was flesh and blood (unlike a ghost), and even ate a piece of broiled fish (I love that detail) in their presence. Then, only then, did they finally start to see and understand. It took them so long.
And that gives me such hope. I struggle so much with my own faith, especially the part of my faith that tries to tell me that God actually loves me and actually has a job for me. And it’s okay that I struggle. It’s okay that it takes me so long to accept this – it’s okay that I dropped the ball for six weeks with my writing. Because that’s just part of my journey. But here’s the good news: Jesus is still standing there with me. Patiently and gently telling me again that he’s there. Patiently and gently telling me again that he’s real, not just some illusion I’ve bought into. Patiently and gently telling me that God does love me. That God does have a job for me.
Sometimes it takes me a long, long time to hear that. That’s part of my particular character. I may not hear it today. But hopefully tomorrow. Always, always hopefully tomorrow. Maybe that’s what the resurrection is really all about – no matter what today looks like, there is always tomorrow. And hopefully that’s the day I’ll see it anew. Hopefully that’s the day I’ll come back to writing about it.
Mental Health in the News
New study highlights the benefit of touch on mental and physical health (Science Daily)
How fear unfolds inside our brains (Science Daily)
‘Boys are disappearing’ from mental health care as signs of depression go undetected (NBC News)
Biblia Blessing
How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings. (Psalm 36:7)
Welcome back to the writing. Even when we must leave it for a season, it awaits our return.