Nobody wants to be the poster child for depression. But now that I have gone through that and am on the other side, I’m thankful for my experience. Truly thankful.
As a doctor, as a neuropsychologist, I was always filled with a lot of compassion and empathy for my patients. Now that I have journeyed through the dark night of my soul myself, I have even more compassion for others. Even more empathy. I can step into that place and say, “Me too.”
I really do get it. I really do understand. Now I have a much better appreciation for so many in the Bible who suffered. Not that my suffering was as great or as prolonged as theirs, but to read the stories of Jonah, and Elijah, and Job, and David. I have a better appreciation for what they went through.
Even in hard times, you can rejoice. How do you rejoice when times are hard? And, why is it good to do so?
Traveling this journey of life, do you feel as if the path is dark and you’re unsure how you’ll get to your destination? Will daylight come? Faith-filled encouragement for a life full of unknowns.
Experience has a way of teaching us some of life’s most valuable lessons, while pain and heartache add the exclamation point for emphasis. This past year certainly held some highlights for me: going on tour with Redemption Press to the Women of Joy conferences, signing a new book contract and writing the book, and winning the Christian Literary Readers Choice Award for “The Hope Prevails Bible Study”.
Conversely, while those were highlights of the year, this year also held several low points: a son’s boating accident and subsequent surgery, changing career direction, and receiving a cancer diagnosis for starters.
Have you ever had something happen that just rocked your world, or took out your legs from beneath you?
I experienced just that when the doctor recently called unexpectedly to say, “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you have cancer.”
I sat stunned for a few seconds before she broke into my wildly running thoughts, to ask if then was a good time to schedule surgery. I couldn’t think straight, much less talk on the phone and look at my calendar at the same time.
Yes, you read that right. I’m fairly certain I won’t ever forget the day I was diagnosed with cancer.
About a week earlier, I had shared what I thought was a very mild concern with my doctor. She then determined a biopsy was in order.
“A biopsy? Oh I hardly think all that is necessary,” I implored. Still she insisted.
“Okay—do as you like but I don’t think we need to make that big of a fuss over it. It’s more of an annoyance than anything.”
Honestly, I put it behind me and didn’t consider it again, until…