“Everything he does is right,
and he does it the right way.
He knows how to turn a proud person
into a humble man or woman.”

(Daniel 4:34-37, The Message)

And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.”Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. (2 Corinthians 12:9, NASB)

This morning I want to share something very personal. I hope you will allow me the leeway to do this. I promise next week to return to upsetting you with my thoughts on God’s grace.

I have shared in these pages how I have struggled with depression. I’ve written about darkness that engulfed me for the last year or more. I have endured great physical pain in my life, but nothing to compare with the emotional pain of this depression. For me, the darkness reached the breaking point a few weeks ago. I could not take any more. I told God if he truly is merciful he would take my life. I prayed to not see another sunrise. I could not go on any longer.

Then, two weeks ago this last Friday, I was in great pain with muscle spasms in my back. For two hours I lie on my living room floor, stretching, trying to relieve the pain. I had taken twice the normal strength of my pain medication and could hardly walk straight, but I finally decided I had to do something, so I pulled on shoes and socks and headed out to walk in the heat. Even though it was now 1 a.m., it was still in the 80s. I thought perhaps working up a sweat would ease the spasms. As I walked out the door, I grabbed my iPod shuffle and turned it on.

The first song that came up was The Land Of Hope And Dreams by Bruce Springsteen. For my money, this is the greatest Gospel song of all time. I have listened to this song many times, but somehow that night one verse stood out to me as if I had never heard it before.

I will provide for you and I’ll stand by your side
You’ll need a good companion now for this part of the ride
Yeah, leave behind your sorrows, let this day be the last
Well, tomorrow there’ll be sunshine and all this darkness past

When I heard those words, I forgot all about the pain in my spasming muscles. I thought, That would be so great if it were true. I listened all the way thru to the end of the song, and then I played it again. Again when I heard that verse I felt a tiny spark of hope in my chest. Could it be true? Once again I hit repeat and listened to the whole great song.

Yeah, leave behind your sorrows, let this day be the last
Well, tomorrow there’ll be sunshine and all this darkness past

When I walked into my house, my back pain was completely gone. I knew then I could go to bed and I would sleep. And I did. When I woke in the morning … my darkness was gone. Gone. I cannot explain it any more than that. On Friday I was in complete despair; on Saturday I knew the peace that passes understanding.

I am still dealing with physical ramifications of the emotional stress and distress. My bowels and I are not yet on speaking terms. I have hives on my finger (my middle finger, which I think only fitting). But the blackness that gripped my soul has given way to the Light. I want to stress that it was nothing I did or said or swallowed that chased away the dark. It was God who moved for me in his time, in a time and way that was totally unexpected and inexplicable. If I were to try to explain how and why, I would be wrong. So I will just say it was God doing what only he could do and leave it at that.

I want to share three things from this time of horror I have come through. Not things I have learned. I don’t think God was teaching me anything here. He was trying me as gold is tried. But I have three observations to share.

First of all, there were very, very few who walked closely with me in my time of darkness. Springsteen sings,

I will provide for you and I’ll stand by your side
You’ll need a good companion now for this part of the ride

and that is so very true. But finding a good companion for the ride is nearly impossible. Very few are willing to stand with someone in such pain. I found that to be painfully true. I did, however, have a few who would not let me go. Adam Palmer would write to me most mornings to tell me the reason I needed to live that day—usually so I could listen to some new song or album he had come across. My friend Mike set a time every week (sometimes more than once a week) to get together with me for something as simple as going to get an ice cream at the DQ or go to a used bookstore. Both of these showed me they were with me and would not leave me. My brother in law Jerry stood by my side in texts and calls. I had a few other friends who would come see me at work without me saying anything or texted me to say that they love me and would not let me walk alone. But these were very, very few.

But there were many, many others who had the opportunity to show love in words or deeds, but chose not to do so. Their lack of words and actions hurt me deeply. It was in their hand to help, but they refused. I was lying in ditch bleeding and dying, and these crossed to the other side of the road, unwilling to get themselves dirty by saying “I love you” and staying by my side. Some said, “Call me if you are having a bad day,” not knowing that in the throes of depression, I could no more pick up the phone and call as I could take a stroll to the moon. Some said they would keep checking on me, but they never did. The worst were those who said “I’ll pray for you,” but didn’t follow that with “I love you.” To me, saying “I’m praying for you” without the words “I love you” is extremely shallow and hurtful. Don’t tell me you will pray for me if you are not willing to love me. And loving me was very difficult when I was lying in my own stench and vomit and despair. It was not easy to love me. But love is what I needed the most. I did not receive love from the pastors or elders of my church. I did not receive love from some whom I thought were good friends.

I forgive these who did not love. I must. I must forgive, that my sins (which are many) may be forgiven. I must show mercy so that I, in such desperate need of mercy, may receive it myself. But I want to say this again: Do not tell someone you will pray for them if you are not willing to love them right then as well.

Finally, I want to speak to those of you who are in your own darkness and despair. Those who do not know how you will lift your head one more day. Those of you who pray that you won’t have to see another sunrise. I want you to “hear” the lyrics to this song one more time.

Yeah, leave behind your sorrows, let this day be the last
Well, tomorrow there’ll be sunshine and all this darkness past

And I want you to do this. I want you to write to me. You will find my email address at the top right of this page. Tell me you are going thru darkness and need a companion for this part of the ride. I promise you I will pray for you and that I will love you. I promise I will not let you go alone. No one should have to go alone.

Let us pray.