The morning and early afternoon were fine. I actually had the best time with my family that I’ve had since my dad’s hospital stay. We laughed and made the crudest jokes about strokes and heart failure. But sarcastic jokes are the best kind, right?
After my youth minister’s ordination, I went to a friend’s house to just hang out and talk. But our usual funny, sarcastic conversation was replaced by a much more serious discussion, venting about “singleness” and what not. I love talking with her, even about heavy topics like this one (in our lives anyway). But, my mood just kept getting worse and worse, like I was carrying a huge weight around on my shoulders. My stomach was churning and I was late for youth group.
I hurried over and, just my luck, they had not eaten and had started right on time. As I slipped in the back, my youth minister had just started a serious topic. Great. That was exactly what I needed. More loaded topics I could pile on. Why not? Yeah…bring on the depression!
I moseyed up to the front to find my friends and, to my dismay, one of the girls in my youth group sat there crying. The poor girl who had lost her mother not 6 months ago sat mourning over her grandfather who died…on her birthday. By then I was dry. No tears to cry for her just gut wrenching pain that never seems to go away anymore.
My friends and I went to find a spot in the balcony to talk and not play jailbreak with the rest of the youth group. And, to my great pleasure, they both talked about their boyfriends (or “just friends”) the whole time. And I sat. And I stared off into space. And I tried to focus on anything but all of the crap going on in my life, and in other people’s lives for that matter.
Then I saw it. In the darkness of the sanctuary balcony, a beacon gleamed out at me. Exit. Bright, red, and inviting it beaconed me. And I wondered. What would it be like to exit, to escape from it all? Though I sound suicidal, that isn’t what I am going for. But it sounds appealing, doesn’t it? The sign seemed to say, “Just leave everything behind, Hannah.” I almost thought it was an evil thing. But then I realized what God was trying to convey to me through a glowing escape route.
I can exit. Why do you think God gave up His son? So we could roll around in our sin, worry every minute, mourn, cry, and bask in our sorrow? I don’t think so. Jesus is our escape. We can exit this room that holds our sin, shame, and sorrow. God will take it for us. He will carry the weight that, quite frankly, we just can not bare on our own. When we exit, the other side of that door holds the opportunity to love, care, and share with the world the gift of Jesus. God has great plans for us, but we can’t very well do anything while we sulk under our burdens. Let me give you some advice…exit. One word. Exit. Exit your sin. Exit your burden. Exit your pain and let God reinvent your life. Find His plan for you on the other side of that door, because I guarantee you His joy is a whole lot more exciting than our depression.
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