A few months ago, depression settled over me like a cloud, coloring my world gray and dreary. The first few days, I chalked it up to hormones and waited for it to pass. The days stretched into a week, then two. Still I smiled and laughed and went about my day, hoping no one would notice, that no one would see I was shattering into a million pieces. Before long, I had mostly forgotten what it felt like to be happy, but I kept the mask plastered on my face, baring my soul to no one but God, in silent cries during the nights that began to stretch on and on interminably. But soon the pain threatened to come out of hiding and destroy me altogether, and so out of fear and with fear, I reached out. And in reaching out, I found light and love and compassion–things that of course had been there all along but to which I had been blinded.
With the help of professionals and loved ones, I’m working on finding a way out of the gray and back into a life lived in color, and for the first time in a long time, I have hope that one day I will smile and really mean it once again. Last night I read the words above from Lamentations and wept with how aptly the pain I feel is captured in this ancient text, and with how badly I want to also feel its certain hope. God knows my pain and heartache and despair, for He sent His Son here to feel it all and to one day put it all to death. God speed the day, but until He comes, I cling to the promise of His steadfast love holding me close, lighting up the darkness and putting an end to the night.