Not long ago I finished reading the book Lincoln's Melancholy by Joshua Wolf Shenk. I thought the book was fascinating, and gives wonderful insight into the lives of those who battle melancholy (not clinical depression) and those who experience depression as a natural part of the grieving process related to the tragedies and losses of life. As I battle the ongoing depression I feel over the miscarriage almost a month ago now, two things about Lincoln help me greatly.
First, he never denied the way he felt or acted as if something was wrong that needed to be healed or fixed. There was no attitude of "keep your chin up," or "Buck up, little trooper," and Lincoln never tried to pull himself up by his bootstraps and soldier on. He hurt. He was moody, he was sad and grieving. He was distracted and distraught. During his presidency it was common for people to think that Lincoln was incompetent and didn't know what he was doing. But those opinions were never based on Lincoln's obvious depression. There was nothing "wrong" with him. He was just depressed. He acknowledged it, and took it in, and allowed it to shape who he was. Historians now believe that his depression gave him unique insight into how to face down and then bind up the nation's wounds. Lincoln could stay on the straight and narrow course of the war because he had stayed on the straight and narrow course through many times of grief and depression in his life. He knew it hurt now, but he also knew that sooner of later he would experience the other side of the darkness.
Secondly, when Lincoln was in the depths of his darkest and most depressing days, he went to work. On some days he could manage only some simple correspondence. On other days he could add cabinet meetings to that, and so on. Lincoln refused to be incapacitated by his emotions, and found things he could do, and put other things off to another day. When you are depressed, it may be that the best thing you can do is brush your teeth and call it a day. Other times you might be able to clean the bathroom, or answer emails. On another day you might be able to go to lunch with friends. The point is to do something, do what you can, and let the rest go for now. People ask me how I'm doing, and I say that I am doing fine. I'm depressed, but I'm fine. Although some days it is a struggle, I go to work. I study. I pray. I meet with people. I go to the hospital. I listen, I encourage, I laugh from time to time. Each day I do what I can. This past Sunday I preached although I was depressed. I hope folks couldn't tell and I hope I was not a distraction to the message, but I prepared a sermon and delivered it on schedule.
Peter writes that we have a living hope in Christ Jesus. So I choose to live. Christ is victorious, he has overcome the world, therefore I will not be defeated. Some days I hurt like hell, and I can't explain it. Other days there is just a note of sadness flowing beneath the surface of things, and I can't explain that. But in all things I want to live a victorious life and bear witness to the greatness of my Lord. So, today I got up and enjoyed a cup of coffee, spent time with the Lord, got ready and went down to the church. So far so good, and if that is all I accomplish today, it has been a good day. Praise God.
First, he never denied the way he felt or acted as if something was wrong that needed to be healed or fixed. There was no attitude of "keep your chin up," or "Buck up, little trooper," and Lincoln never tried to pull himself up by his bootstraps and soldier on. He hurt. He was moody, he was sad and grieving. He was distracted and distraught. During his presidency it was common for people to think that Lincoln was incompetent and didn't know what he was doing. But those opinions were never based on Lincoln's obvious depression. There was nothing "wrong" with him. He was just depressed. He acknowledged it, and took it in, and allowed it to shape who he was. Historians now believe that his depression gave him unique insight into how to face down and then bind up the nation's wounds. Lincoln could stay on the straight and narrow course of the war because he had stayed on the straight and narrow course through many times of grief and depression in his life. He knew it hurt now, but he also knew that sooner of later he would experience the other side of the darkness.
Secondly, when Lincoln was in the depths of his darkest and most depressing days, he went to work. On some days he could manage only some simple correspondence. On other days he could add cabinet meetings to that, and so on. Lincoln refused to be incapacitated by his emotions, and found things he could do, and put other things off to another day. When you are depressed, it may be that the best thing you can do is brush your teeth and call it a day. Other times you might be able to clean the bathroom, or answer emails. On another day you might be able to go to lunch with friends. The point is to do something, do what you can, and let the rest go for now. People ask me how I'm doing, and I say that I am doing fine. I'm depressed, but I'm fine. Although some days it is a struggle, I go to work. I study. I pray. I meet with people. I go to the hospital. I listen, I encourage, I laugh from time to time. Each day I do what I can. This past Sunday I preached although I was depressed. I hope folks couldn't tell and I hope I was not a distraction to the message, but I prepared a sermon and delivered it on schedule.
Peter writes that we have a living hope in Christ Jesus. So I choose to live. Christ is victorious, he has overcome the world, therefore I will not be defeated. Some days I hurt like hell, and I can't explain it. Other days there is just a note of sadness flowing beneath the surface of things, and I can't explain that. But in all things I want to live a victorious life and bear witness to the greatness of my Lord. So, today I got up and enjoyed a cup of coffee, spent time with the Lord, got ready and went down to the church. So far so good, and if that is all I accomplish today, it has been a good day. Praise God.
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