Caveat: I know that depression is a reality for many people. What I say here is not meant to judge the one to whom I am referring nor anyone else who uses medication to combat it. It is simply my experience.
I have been in that place. I took medication for depression 7 years ago. We were 3 years into our empty nest season at the time. Our eldest daughter was going to be married 2 hours away and I couldn't be a part of the preparations like I'd dreamed I would. All it seemed I could do was write fat checks for the festivities.
No Martha Stewart moments.
Strained relations with my daughter.
Huge financial concerns: wedding, getting 3 kids through college within 7 years.
I just couldn't shake the depression I felt.
So I used the medication for about 5 months. I realized that I didn't feel the "lows" as much, but neither could I experience joy and happiness like I used to. So I stopped the meds.
My circumstances didn't really worsen or improve.
I pulled through, by the grace of God.
All that to say this: Sometimes I'm in a spot, or season, where I have
No Strength To Pray.
I read a poem by that name today.
Here it is:
When vision fadeth, and the sense of things,
And powers dissolve like colors in the air;
And no more can I bring Thee offerings,
Nor any ordered prayer...
Then, like a wind blowing from Paradise,
Falleth a healing word upon mine ear:
"Let the lifting up of my hands be as the evening sacrifice";
The Lord doth hear.
[From Toward Jerusalem, by Amy Carmicheal.]
Have I felt depressed in the intervening years? Most definitely.
But today I had a renewed sense that, even in my lowest times,
when my physical and psychological strength fail,
my loving Lord hears my internal cries for relief.
He gathers me close to Him, sending the Comforter, whether I ask or not.
Why do I have that assurance?
Because He is Who He is:
my unchanging Lover, Friend, and Savior.
I am hoping and praying that you have that assurance, too.
Grace and peace to you!