These are the days they tell you to forget. They = the world, the self-help gurus, even the voices inside my own head have been badgering me for years to ignore, ignore, ignore. Forget, forget, forget. Remember the good times. If you must remember the bad, remember only the silver lining or the important lesson you learned. But above all else, forget the feelings. Because if you remember the feelings, you’ll feel them all again.
And we wouldn’t want that, now, would we?
Don’t remember the emotional yo-yo of being giddy and energetic one day, then exhausted and heartsick the next.
Don’t remember the way you doubted everything you believe just to try and find some solution to this invisible pain.
Forget that you sat in the car for 40 minutes after church reliving each time you’d said “I’m fine, life is good!” in the past hour, as tears course down your face. Forget how you cried yourself hoarse despite having no earthly clue what you were crying for.
Don’t remember that you ate plain leftover rice for supper because you were too exhausted to make anything else, and too embarrassed by your tear-streaked face to accept the invitation to supper at your second family’s home.
Remember that the doctor says you’re healthy. Forget that you kind of don’t believe him.
Forget that you’ve tried to eat away your feelings, to run away your feelings, to sleep away your feelings – and definitely forget that none of it worked. That you still toss and turn on sleepless nights, only to wake too late to get yourself properly ready for work the next day. That those things are just distractions and you can’t face or even name the darkness lurking in your soul.
Forget that you dare not tell anyone. Because how dare I, a Christian with so much truth and hope, ever feel depressed? How dare I find myself lost amidst a sea of forgotten promises. Promises that guarantee rest if I could just but grasp them, yet they always allude my trembling fingers?
Forget how you can’t even look at the screen while you type because your eyes are so puffy from crying they hurt. Or that your tears render your vision too blurry to see anyhow.
Forget how you were too afraid to reach out to your best friends or family because who would want to deal with an insecure, wishy-washy, dribbling, screaming mess like you? In fact, now that you’ve written this out, forget it ever existed so you need not explain yourself to anyone.
Go ahead, take the coward’s way out and just forget.
But if you forget all those things, remember these:
“I will never leave you, nor forsake you.”
Remember that you almost didn’t even write this due to your fear of condescension from the ones who love you.
Remember that Psalm 55 speaks directly to your soul:
“My heart is in anguish within me; the terrors of death have fallen upon me.
Fear and trembling come upon me, and horror overwhelms me.
And I say, ‘Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest;
Yes, I would wander far away; I would lodge in the wilderness;
I would hurry to find a shelter from the raging wind and tempest.’
But I call to God, and the LORD will save me.
Evening and morning and at noon I utter my complaint and moan,
and he hears my voice.
He redeems my soul in safety from the battle that I wage,
For many are arrayed against me.
God will give ear and humble them, he who is enthroned from of old,
Because they do not change and do not fear God.
Cast your burden on the LORD, and he will sustain you;
He will never permit the righteous to be moved.”
Remember that jar of Nutella you ate with a spoon. Remember that you ate it as a distraction from the truth – that you are in need of spiritual food.
“In you, O LORD, do I take refuge; let me never be put to shame!” (Psalm 71:1)
Remember that you sat for hours playing tetris on your phone because you felt no motivation and had no energy to move – remember that you felt guilty as all get-out, yet never moved to make a change.
Remember that you wanted to spew profanity because you feel so dead inside, though you’ve never sworn in your life.
Do not forget the utter helplessness you feel. Do not forget the immorality of your mind.
“My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:2)
Remember that you should have slept, but you didn’t. Remember that you should have reached out and gotten help, but you didn’t. Remember that you’re not just a victim, you’re an ingredient in your healing.
Remember what you need healing from. Because if God can heal me from this, whatever it is, then that is one powerful God. And when He heals me I want to remember.
I want to know that powerful God for the rest of eternity.