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Let me explain my depression a little bit.

 I told myself that if depression found me again, I would share well from the valley.

 I told myself that if after Everly was born I found that the baby blues became deep, all-encompassing depression- the kind I know too well, the kind that has left me locked in the bathroom sitting on the floor in the dark, because the darkness is all I can handle- that I would speak up from that place.

 I told myself this because I knew that once I was there I would feel that I had no voice, no words, no strength to muster up and share myself with others. The thought of explaining what I was feeling would seem enormous and exhausting, just like every single other thing did. I knew that instead, I would numbly caption my Instagram photos with something meaningless about chubby-cheeked babies, or pithy remarks about dry shampoo to distract my Facebook friends from the hollowed-out place inside of me.

 I was afraid. Depression is not unfamiliar to me. It is not limited to postpartum seasons. It does not last forever- it comes and goes, sometimes almost crippling and sometimes so tolerable that I feel silly even giving it a name. I know this complicated animal, but I was still afraid. And in those moments of fear and remembering how God has been faithful to help me through each valley, I began telling myself to speak.

 So here I am, speaking.

 Yesterday I realized that in my attempt to share honestly from the midst of my shadows, I may have been unclear. So I write this to explain my motivation in casually dropping super real, dark moments into your feed, and also the tone in which you should read my posts- because it’s probably not intuitive.

 First, please know that I am never sharing in the tone of complaining. When I feel like complaining about how hard things are, I keep my thumbs off of my phone screen. The Bible literally tells us not to complain, so when I catch myself with a complaining heart, AT MOST I share that with my husband while asking God’s forgiveness, but I keep that ish off the internet. No need for me to drag you down with me.

 Second, I’m also not posting about depression with a depressed tone. Like I said, I know this is counter-intuitive. If I’m posting about it at all, that means I had a moment of clear-headedness, because God just seems to be helping me string words together despite the murkiness of my emotions. So these scattered paragraphs about my strugglin’ are not meant to be massive bummers, where I pointlessly unload the heaviness I’m feeling and wallow in the depths of my sadness. More on that when I get to my motivation behind sharing.

Third, I’m not sharing because I feel bad about myself. I genuinely appreciate the kindness people offer me when they try to encourage me about how wonderful I am or how great I’m doing; I feel so loved that you care about me and want to help. So please know two things: One, my husband speaks truth over me every single day; and two, sometimes I’m not a wonderful person doing a great job, and it is to my benefit that I see that, because it sends me all the more quickly to God for HIS strength, HIS peace, HIS everything- and that’s so much better.

 The tone I AM using when I post is one of calm transparency about the bad stuff that elevates to joyful passion over God’s faithfulness amidst the bad stuff. If you’re rolling your eyes, please call my entire Life Group to have them verify. There’s a group of nine young people that can attest to how I frankly share how poorly I’m doing and then wax eloquent and lengthy about the grace of God, every single week. I can’t help it. I’m doing SO poorly, and yet HE IS SO GRACIOUS.

 Which brings me to my motives in sharing any of this in the first place: The glory of God. More than anything, I want to make His name great and adorn the Gospel with my life, in any and every way possible. Because God has allowed this season of incredible, daily struggle in my life, this then in my current means of pointing to His character. When I am at my weakest (and I am), He is strong. He is enough. He gives me peace when there is no earthly reason for me to feel peace.

 My secondary motive is the encourage you- whether you consider yourself a believer or not- with the character of God and the power of the Gospel. Because of grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone, I am walking through misery with joy that does not compute. I am deeply sad and lonely and angry and confused, but I also (literally) laugh without fear of the future. This does not make sense, I know. It’s not something I can explain, except to say, “This is the power of Christ in me.”

 Before Everly was born, when I was afraid of what deep depression may set in after she arrived, I told myself to share well from the valley. I told myself that I would speak, calling up from the black depths where I found myself, describing to anyone who would listen that the shadows were fierce and yet my God was faithful. When I tell you how bad it is, it is not because I need sympathy or need anyone to try and make me feel better- it is only to show you that God is good when things are bad. God is still caring for me, refining me, using me, loving me, and teaching me, even in this.

 RUN TO HIM.

 Want what I have? Great, you should. It’s available to you, not in me or anything I can offer you, but in Christ. Pick up a Bible and read throug the book of Romans. Sit with the reality of your sin and brokenness, and rejoice in the grace God freely extends despite your sin. He loves you. You need Him. If you think you’re good with God but you disagree with what I’ve said about Him here, again, pick up that Bible, ask God to make you a humble reader with clear eyes, and see what His Word says about your need for Him and His provision for that need.

 I love you.

 RUN TO HIM. He is mightier than any other.

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