Depression is not a sign that you have a spiritual problem. Period.

Today I read the sad sad sad news Rick Warren's son committed suicide.

I cannot imagine the pain the Warren family  is experiencing. I visited Saddleback Church in 2010 and heard Rick Warren preach. He impressed me as a man who had no problem being honest in the pulpit. The first thing he said was, "So we all have problems. I like donuts. I eat too much." Saddleback church has an amazing ministry...but I know that nothing nothing nothing will make them feel better right now.


Over the past 12 years I have struggled with depression. I have been antidepressants 11 of those years. I have had thousands of hours of therapy. When I was at my worst, some well meaning Christian friends told me that if I was truly a Christian then I would not be depressed. I was told if I praised God more then I would feel better. I was told if I read the Bible more I would feel better. I was told if I prayed more I would feel better. At the time I was a senior pastor.

I SPENT HOURS AND HOURS PRAYING, PRAISING GOD AND READING THE BIBLE.
And I DID NOT FEEL BETTER.

I spent hours begging God to make the dark shadows go away.

Even though my problem did not look physical, IT WAS PHYSICAL.

I may have looked like a healthy 20 something but inside I was dead. However, looking at pictures of myself from that time, I can see it on my face.

It was only through weekly therapy and finally antidepressants that the dark shadows gradually lightened. And when I say gradually, I mean gradually. It took about 2 1/2 years before I was 'better.' But I put 'better' lightly. I was never the same and I have never been the same.

Depression still lurks in the darkness. It is an ongoing mental illness that for some, like me, is never 'cured.' It is ongoing struggle that sometimes affects my spiritual life but has nothing to do with how much faith I have.

Through therapy and the support of my family and friends I have learned how to take care of myself to make sure I never hit the bottom again. The plan of self-help may be different for every person. This is what works for me.

I am not a health care professional and I am NOT GIVING MEDICAL advice.

 If you THINK YOU ARE depressed, SEE YOUR DOCTOR.

1. I stay on my antidepressants. I have never tried to go off of them. I see absolutely no shame in taking  a pill a day. If you are on antidepressants, NEVER EVER take yourself off of them without a physician's supervision. Some people only need a short term prescription to get them back on their feet, but I have never ever wanted to return to the person I was before them, so I don't see the need to go off of them.

2. I see a therapist regularly. The first therapist I saw was an LSW who had also been to seminary. She was a godsend and I think she saved my life.  I saw her once a week for 2 1/2 years.  I  moved away and found another after a couple of tries. You have to find someone that fits for you. Don't get discouraged if your first visit with a therapist doesn't go well. Try another. Now I don't need to see one every week, but I know I can call her if I need an appointment. She knows me and that is important. "I don't have money or insurance," you might say. Ask around. Ask your pastor, rabbi, imam, or teacher. If you are a student, most schools offer some free therapy. There are free and reduced clinics. If you are depressed, you really need to see a professional.

3.  I have learned my limits. I am not a person who can get by on 4 hours of sleep a night. I have to have 7-8 or I can not function. Of course there were times in my life when this did not happen. But I have learned that I must catch up somehow. I don't feel guilty for napping.

4. I have learned to say no. I have to watch my stress level. If my schedule gets too busy, I get stressed. If I get too stressed, I get depressed. I have to say no often when it comes to church volunteering, etc, or extra work projects.

5. I have learned what relieves my stress and I practice those things regularly. It may take a while before you figure this out. It took me 2 years. I found that I love, love, love sewing, especially quilting. Getting immediate results from my efforts, seeing the beauty I create. You can see my projects at My quilt blog. I also need to exercise. I walk my dog, I do yoga, I ride my bike.

6. I speak out. Just about everyone who knows me knows I have depression. I do not tell people this so they pity me. I tell them so they don't get offended by my sad expressions. I want other people to know it is OK to be depressed, it is not a sin, it is not shameful.

7. I stay connected to a healthy community of faith. I could not survive without my church. Not all churches are safe places for depressed people. If you do not feel safe in your church, it may be time to seek another.  A safe church for a depressed person is one that allows that person to feel sad. If I do not feel like singing in worship, no one expects me to. My pastor says from the pulpit, "Worship in the way you feel comfortable." Sometimes I am too depressed to stand and sing. Sometimes I just want to sit and cry while others sing. My church leaders do not expect me to be someone I am not.

Easter Sunday John 20 He is Risen!

Every other Sunday is a rehearsal for this one.

Every church should celebrate today.

If they don't, then they don't get what this Christian stuff is all about.

Bring out the loudest music.

Jesus is risen. As my pastor said, RESURRECTION IS LOUD.

He is risen and we can't keep quiet.

Good Friday The Passion of the Christ

If I look back far enough I remember the first time that I 'got' Good Friday. I was 7.

I watched some movie about the life of Jesus at a theater. I don't know know which one it was. I have researched but haven't found the answer. It could have been the 1979 version of the Jesus movie that was updated in 1989.

But it was 1979. Movies were not so easily watched then. It was the days before digital download, itunes, DVDS, and even before VHS, if anyone still remembers that. I know the VHS was invented but it had not become household, at least not for families like mine who had little cash to spare. We had a black & white TV with a large antenna.

I had been to church that morning.

But seeing the crucifixion on the screen...it was nothing like the Passion of the Christ. It was rated PG. There was not that much blood. But I could not believe anyone would do that to my Jesus. Lumps in my throat. Agony. I cried. I shut my eyes. I decided I could not bear to watch something like that again.

Fast forward to 2004. Everyone is raging about the Passion of the Christ. All the staff at my church went to see it the night it came out: Ash Wednesday. I avoided it like the plague.

But I am a Bible professor and of course all my students began questioning me about it. So I went to watch it. Alone.

I was not alone in the theater but the experience itself was surreal. There was a group of women in front of me: about 20 of all ages that cried like the women following Jesus in the film.

The group behind me was eating popcorn, drinking Cokes and even making inappropriate comments.

I sat alone, shaking. Wondering how anyone could eat and watch something so gory at the same time. This is not just a normal movie for your entertainment! I wanted to shriek at them.

About the time they crammed the crown of thorns on his head, I left. I couldn't take it anymore.

There is no way anyone could have survived that loss of blood as long as it took. They went overboard. I understand why. but I can't watch.

Good Friday Reflections on the Stations of the Cross. Station 13.

Station 13 Jesus is taken down from the cross and placed in the arms of his mother

The Scriptures do not tell us that the body of Jesus was laid in the arms of his mother, but Mark 15:47 says that she was there as the body was taken down. Every mother in the world knows that she needed one last time to hold her child, to remember struggle of his birth, to see his life flash before her eyes. There are no words to express the deepest darkest depths of agony that she felt. There are no decibels to register the sound of her wails.

She had watched him die, powerless to stop the machine of religious establishment, of empire, of men’s fears that led to treachery, violence, and now death. Did she remember his promises of rising on the third day? If she did they were forgotten as his blood stained her robe and her mind neared psychosis with pain.

O Lord, your mother symbolizes every mother who has watched her child suffer. May even in this we know your presence and comfort. 

Good Friday: Reflections on the stations of the cross. Station 9

Station 9 Jesus falls the third time

Even though he has been relieved of the burden of the heavy cross, Jesus falls for the third and last time. This time he has reached the place of his death, the hill called Golgotha, the place of the skull. They are now outside the city. The crowds continue to push and yell and scream. He remains on the ground as the soldiers to begin to strip him.

O Lord our hearts ache and we shake as we know how this story continues. We cannot bear the thought of your intense agony. We recoil in horror at the thought of nails into your hands and feet. 

Good Friday: Reflections on the Stations of the Cross. Station 7.

Station 7 Jesus falls the second time

Jesus falls again. He is deeply exhausted from the loss of blood for he has been flogged with a cat of nine tails. The soldier hit him 39 times on the back with the whip.  His knees scrape the ground. He is dehydrated and shaking. Yet the soldiers drag him to his feet. It was their job to get him alive to the place of execution. Yet he forgives even them.

O Lord, may I have the strength to forgive those who have inflicted pain upon me.

Good Friday: Reflections of the Stations of the Cross. Station 6

Station 6 Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus

Church tradition tells us that a woman named Veronica offered her veil to Jesus so he could wipe his face. He wiped his face and gave it back and she saved it with his imprint to remember his suffering. A woman, unveiled, was shameful, but her fear of shame left as her compassion for him outweighed social norm. 

O Lord, would I have been willing to risk my own shame and even my own death to offer compassion to you? Let me remember that every suffering person I meet on the road today is you. And let me offer aid.