If I could cover 3 years of college in 400 words or less, I would quietly raise my arms in a silent victory cheer.
But I can’t. And I apologize ahead of time for all of the following words. (If you would like to check out of my life story and pick back up on all of the ministry happenings and cute kid pics on November 1, I won’t hold it against you. I will give you a pile of grace.=))
In short, I went back to college the day after the funeral and got my first job as a college student, 2 weeks after that.
I holed up in my sanctuary, drinking coffee and staring out the window. I taught a bible study and helped Thad lead a youth group and I folded jeans at The Limited.
I kept a smile on my face and hugged everyone that had a kind word to say and assured everyone that God had a plan for me. Really, I was fine.
I went to class and made small talk and counted calories and worked out almost every day. I skipped dessert and drank gallons of coffee sweetened with sweet-n-low and skim milk.
And when my clothes began to hang on my frame and my size 2 jeans were finally too big, I finally felt like something in my life was right.
But as I counted calories and put on my happy face and served my broken heart out, something ugly was taking up residence in my soul.
I wouldn’t know that the nagging saddness, fatigue, and withdrawal from everyone I loved, had a name.
Its name was depression.
It would crawl in bed with me at night and then follow me to the shower each morning. It would stand in my closet each morning as I sorted laundry and tried on every black outfit hanging on the racks. Depression sat with me at mealtimes and walked me to class. It cast its big, ugly shadow on every beautiful thing in my life.
But mostly, it cast a shadow on Jesus.
Satan used the depressed state of my body to convince my soul that Jesus didn’t love me.
And I bought it…
Satan’s 3rd lie.