Dear God,

In today’s gospel, we read about the parable of the sower (Matthew 13: 1-9), which, ironically, was the reading that Eric and I chose for our wedding (it’s not all that romantic … but read in terms of a relationship, and you’ll see why I picked it):

A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path, and birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky ground, where it had little soil. It sprang up at once because the soil was not deep, and when the sun rose it was scorched, and it withered for lack of roots. Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it. But some seed fell on rich soil and produced fruit, a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold.

I believe, God, that this is a parable about recovery from depression.

Because depressives have such fragile systems that they absolutely must be planted in rich soil or else they will wither when the next catastrophe arrives … and life is full of them. (No offense, God, but it is.)

What produces rich soil?

All the basics that I ramble on about in most of my posts: a healthy diet that includes snacks other than Kit Kats, regular exercise, and consistent sleep, even if your snoring keeps your husband on the couch; friends to bail you out of dangerous thinking, or (even worse) destructive behavior; therapy and therapy and more therapy, which includes cognitive behavioral techniques, like identifying distorted thought patterns (all or nothing, mind reading, negative filter, and so on); stress-busters, like kayaking and long walks; and, of course, checkups with a doctor, and the right medication.

But you know, God, and I know, that I seldom do all of those things together. If I did, I probably would be too boring of a person to write a daily blog. My topics would be lame if I were be perfectly centered. So one week, I’m great on my sleep, and then I’m up all night with a crying kid, and so I drink three cups of coffee the next day to stay awake, which keeps me awake that night. So I’m too tired to work out. You get the drift.

Medication and doctor visits are a life savor, yes, but here again, the combination isn’t always perfect. Sometimes it takes a few months for Dr. Smith to tweak them just right. I’m great for awhile … until my chemistry changes or my pituitary tumor grows, and we need to start tweaking again.

So what is the one consistent thing, the main ingredient of deep soil that I’m shooting for?

YOU.

I know now, that if I fall into the dark pit of anxiety, or am sucked into the terrifying vacuum of depression, that You, God, will be with me. I realize that on some weeks, I may be doing (or at least I THINK I am doing) everything perfectly–eating right, sleeping eight hours, exercising, adjusting my thinking, reaching out to friends–but I may still want you to give me a terminal illness so that I can exit this life gracefully. I also know that I won’t feel like that forever. And that you, God, will be with me there, even if I don’t have a clue as to your plan.

I’m not the only one with this complaint, God: Your timing makes absolutely no sense at all.

I don’t know why I had to stay sick for almost two years during my severe depression before I started to feel better. I don’t get why you didn’t send a warning not to use the shrink who drugged me with 14 different medications in three months. Granted, it all makes for better blog content.

I don’t get it, God. But I still believe. I guess that is what faith is: “the realization of what is hoped for and the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11: 1-2).

Which reminds me of the story of “The Fern and the Bamboo,” one of my favorite stories (like “Footprints in the Sand“), that a Group Beyond Blue member recently posted on a discussion board at Group Beyond Blue at Beliefnet’s Community:

The Fern and the Bamboo

One day I decided to quit…I quit my job, my relationship, my spirituality…. I wanted to quit my life. I went to the woods to have one last talk with God.

“God”, I said. “Can you give me one good reason not to quit?”

His answer surprised me.

“Look around”, He said. “Do you see the fern and the bamboo?”

“Yes”, I replied.

“When I planted the fern and the bamboo seeds, I took very good care of them. I gave them light. I gave them water. The fern quickly grew from the earth. Its brilliant green covered the floor. Yet nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.

“In the second year the fern grew more vibrant and plentiful. And again, nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.

“In year three there was still nothing from the bamboo seed. But I would not quit. The same in year four.

“Then in the fifth year, a tiny sprout emerged from the earth.

Compared to the fern, it was seemingly small and insignificant.

But just six months later, the bamboo rose to over 100 feet tall.

It had spent the five years growing roots. Those roots made it strong and gave it what it needed to survive. I would not give any of my creations a challenge it could not handle.

“Did you know, my child, that all this time you have been struggling, you have actually been growing roots? I would not quit on the bamboo. I will never quit on you.

“Don’t compare yourself to others.” He said. “The bamboo had a different purpose than the fern. Yet they both make the forest beautiful.

“Your time will come”, God said to me. “You will rise high.”

“How high should I rise?” I asked.

“How high will the bamboo rise?” He asked in return.

“As high as it can?” I questioned.

“Yes.” He said, “Give me glory by rising as high as you can.”

I left the forest, realizing that God will never give up on me. And He will never give up on you.

Never regret a day in your life.

Good days give you happiness; bad days give you experiences; both are essential to life.

–Author Unknown

To read more Beyond Blue, go to www.beliefnet.com/beyondblue, and to get to Group Beyond Blue, a support group at Beliefnet Community, click here.