Resting in Christ in the Midst of Depression’s Betrayal

By Madison Ezzell

My name is Madison and I am Peter.

There is a delicate line between depression and reality. In an instant you can cross it, and all of a sudden where you were is not where you are. Instead of joy there is indescribable pain. Emotions bottle up in your chest and scream at you. And while what you want to do is cry and rage against the world, all you do is sit in the bog of depression. This deep darkness reminds you of all your sins, of how far you are from God. You don’t remember that He paid for all of this, that by His death you live and that by your death in this world He lives in you.

I sin. I don’t deserve anything I have, had, or ever will have. I should be dead. But, as a favorite song of mine says, the beauty of grace is that it makes life unfair. In spite of this depression with which I contend, the wonders of God’s mercy have given me life; He uses me so that through me He can give others this gift of grace. The riches of His love are evident in every corner of my life and being.

So why I am sitting here crying over my sin? Why can I not let go of the past and instead look to the future where I think I can do better? Why am I trapping myself in darkness when there is light?

Instead of this I must go, serve, love, and have faith. I must be determined to do better and live for Him every day. He has given His life for me, and so I know that the past is gone. I have another chance. So, while I ache to scream, I must let go and enter a new day. Trust in Him and be utterly thankful for this new day. So, Lord, help me to let go.

People who know my outer shell say my heart is good. But really, my heart is black—only made white by the red blood of Christ who died for me. He cried out in agony as everyone abandoned Him while He saved them. Yet, my black heart cries out, “I love you, Lord!” But how can a person leave the one they love? I have denied Him. My name is Madison and I am Peter.

I am Peter. Strong until the storm comes, where I wither and die. And, while I know this, I also know that Jesus died so that I could live. Living does not mean sitting and crying about the past. It means resting in Christ. It means to love as He loves, serve as He serves, show mercy as He shows mercy, and go make disciples for Him.

Depression is a real and dangerous thing. It darkens even the brightest lights and casts shadows over the truth. When it comes, whether scattered over time or in crushing waves, we collapse. I have, many times. And each time I doubt, I fear, I hate, I, I, I…Each time everything in my mind suddenly becomes only about me.

This time last year was the darkest period of my life. The monster that is depression and anxiety gripped me so tightly in its hands and that I could not free myself from it. I would pray daily, hourly, every moment, for help. I just wanted the fear and the darkness to leave me. I ached to sleep better, I yearned to be healthier and happy again, I wanted to feel purpose in my life. But instead of regaining those things I found myself losing faith in the only thing I had ever known. For the first time in my life I doubted that God was real and true.

Yes, I had doubted before. Everyone has doubts. But my mind was so clouded with lies that I could no longer recognize the truth. I don’t think I have ever cried as much as I did then. I grasped at what strands I could and prayed every night to a God I couldn’t see, “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.”

That was last November. Last Easter I sat in church with my family and listened to my pastor preach the gospel, I prayed the same prayer, but I was not so afraid. I had fought a long war with myself, and I still fight it now, but I am not so easily shaken. I believe, and I pray every night that God in His mercy would be with me and guide me through my unbelief.

Now, as I am able to look at my past with a clear mind and hopeful heart, I see where the darkness takes me. It takes me to myself. It takes me to places so full of my own thoughts that I cannot see God. It turns everything inward.

This life is not about me, it is about love—the love of Christ for me and the love of Christ I can give to my neighbor. If not for love, Jesus’ true and unending love, none of us would be here. Because of His great love, I am free to love my neighbors as myself. That’s what Jesus has already done for me. He went through darkness and pain for me. He rose from death to life for me. He’s washed and clothed me with His love. He’s fed me with His life—His Body and Blood—in the Supper. He does this for me and my neighbors. Loving others is hard, and I fail each and every day. Thank God in His mercy that He has forgiven me each and every time I fail.

When next comes the darkness, I hope that I do not give in. But because I am human, I will. That is why my hope is not in me, but in a God who has promised to never forsake me. He can’t and won’t: I’m baptized through Him, and in Him alone, I live. My name is Madison, and I am Peter— saved by the grace of a glorious God.

Madison Ezzell is an aspiring writer living in Boone, North Carolina. She is working to complete her Associates of Arts Degree in May. She is a member of Augustana Evangelical Lutheran Church in Hickory, North Carolina.

Author’s note: If you suffer from anxiety or depression, you are not alone. It is a hard battle and sometimes we have to fight it far too often. I am thankful for the support my parents and pastors give to me. Do not be afraid to seek help. Talk to your parents, your pastor, and doctors. I know how hard it is to do that, but it is worth it. An excellent resource is the book I Trust When Dark My Road, by Todd Peperkorn.