Telephone theology

For a while, I’ve been thinking about how I would explain to someone what it’s like being a Christian with, or recovering from, clinical depression. Sometimes, I think that although ‘depression’ is a word that we often toss around with little thought, a lot of people don’t really understand it. So, here is, as my gran would have said, my ‘twopennoth’.

When I think of my relationship with God, I think of it being like two phonelines, one going direct from me to Him, and another in the other direction. In order for any phone system to work, you need a few things:

1) Both parties have to be willing to pick up the phone when the other person calls

2) Both parties have to be willing to talk to the other person

3) The lines need to carry the message from one receiver to the other

4) The receiver needs to relay what is said, to the right person, without distortion.

Depression can knock all of these, in some way. Probably the easiest one to understand, is that when things get tough, you just stop wanting to either hear from God, or talk to him, at all. Your prayer life falls by the wayside. You don’t want to be in church. You don’t want to be around God, or anyone. And when you know so clearly that God is speaking, you block it out. You ignore Him; it’s all too painful. Depression stops you picking up the phone, at all. It rings and rings, but you just can’t find the courage to pick it up. You leave it be. You run until you find some place where you can’t hear it ringing. These places, are often not good places.

Sometimes, however, the problem isn’t that you don’t want anything to do with God – sometimes, it’s as though you’re shouting and shouting down your phone,  pleading for help and guidance, but for some reason, it’s as though no message gets through, and God just leaves you be. People tell you to ‘pray your way out’ – but you’re already praying, you’re already on your knees, and still, the blanket of depression closes in and shuts you out. You’re shouting as loud as you can; the line just seems broken. Depression breaks the line between you, and God; at least, that’s how it feels, even though it’s not true. Eventually, you might give up. Shouting wears you out, after a while. The silence you’re hearing is overwhelming and cuts you to the core. The threat of abandonment feels like the deepest of wounds. You think God is ignoring you.

And then sometimes, depression distorts the messages you hear from God.  Either you hear what is said, you hear about the love and the grace and the faithfulness of God, but just can’t believe it was meant for you – you think it’s gone to the wrong number, so to speak- or, more dangerously, the message gets completely distorted and the meaning gets lost, and before you know it, you’re believing something that’s not true at all. I believed, at the height of my depression, that God had marked me for suicide, as some sort of modern-day martyr to mental health. I had started my preparation and was literally just waiting for a signal to ‘go’. Was it true? No. Was it dangerous? Yes, undoubtably. I thought I was hearing God’s voice clearly. I was wrong. I had the wrong message. I was listening in the wrong language. Depression changes your ability to hear God, just as it alters your ability to speak with him.

However, what I’ve learned is that no matter how many times you shut God out, stop talking, stop listening, or get it wrong, he never stops speaking down his receiver to us. His line never fails. He never hangs up, and then, when depression lifts, it’s like you get a load of messages on that answer machine you’ve not been checking, that remind you of how faithful he has been, that remind you that no matter how alone you felt, you weren’t alone at all. We’re told so often that prayer is a ‘two-way thing’ – and I believe this. For the last year, my line with God was disrupted in so many ways, so many times. When I think of it this way, I find so much comfort in remembering that God didn’t, and doesn’t, let me go.

Depression isn’t the only thing, that stops us talking and listening to God. We all think that we’re standing outside of grace at times. We all think we’re standing outside of forgiveness, at times. We all get the messages mixed up, at times. We’re all learning. I guess the most important thing is that, no matter how long a gap we leave, the phone’s always there, when we’re ready to pick it up again. It never disconnects. God’s always on the other end. He doesn’t hang up.

All I can say, is thank goodness that God doesn’t have to pay phone bills.