She sat across from me at our kitchen table, her belly bulging with my first grandbaby. The early morning sun streamed through the window. Tim had brought her home from Phoenix where she lived with her husband. After many conversations with friends and family, he decided Kelly was the best person to confront me.
As I dug into a bowl of cereal, her voice quivered,
“Mom, I’m really worried about you. You’re just not the same. You’re so unhappy. And I’m afraid my baby will never know the fun loving mom who raised me. Please go see the doctor. I’m sure there’s something he can do to help you.”
A few weeks later, I sat in our doctor’s office discussing an injured knee. I thought it odd that he kept asking me if there was anything else wrong. My heart pounded. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t spit the words out. Finally I sputtered,
“I think I’m depressed.”
He sat up straight, and shot off a list of questions. Did I get eight hours of sleep, was I exercising and cutting down on sugar, had I seen my therapist lately? It was almost like a preplanned script. Years later, I learned he already knew. Tim had sought his help.
It’s an ever-raging battle, this war I have against depression. Many times, I’ve crept close to the edge. I’ve lost my sense of reason. I’ve argued inside my head against the value Jesus puts on my soul and the worthlessness I feel in my depraved mind. Too often, I’ve fallen into the trap of thinking my family would be better off without me.
This week, my heart is heavy with the news of the suicide of a young Orlando pastor. The man who baptized my grandchildren, the spiritual leader of my daughter and her family. He mistakenly thought his family would be better off without him. I understood his pain.
So many of our battles are fought in places no one else sees. Whatever drove us there doesn’t matter.
When this happens, we all need a grace revolution. A time to set aside judgment and lean in close to one another. To listen to the gentle murmur of the hearts and souls around us. Who knows, maybe we can pull those folks back who are teetering close to the edge.