Rev. David Petersen over at Cyberstones has a very nice post about sorrow and mental illness. He is particularly talking about how difficult it is to get into the shoes of another person, to understand their suffering. We all suffer, but each person’s pain and sorrow is their own, and none of us can judge or lay claim to fully understand another person’s trials.

-DMR

Sorrow Under the Skin: “”

I have posted on the travails of shut-in call a number of times, specifically here, and here. I’m not sure if I’m a bad pastor or what, but I have just never really enjoyed shut-in calls. Really it is more the concept of shut-in calls that bugs me more than the reality of them. I generally like the people whom I visit and commune. I don’t have a problem with them. Really the difficulty lies in the emotional drain which may go along with the visit, as well as the time, etc.

So this morning I was faced with two competing avoidance issues: the dread of visits vs. the guilt of not doing them. Talk about stuck between a rock and a hard place! But this is often where I find myself when it comes to visits of various sorts. I dread the thought of doing them, but I am racked with guilt over not doing them. You’re pretty much toast either way it goes.

So this morning I decided that the guilt was worse than the dread, so I went to make calls. I got all of them done save one. A pretty good morning’s work for me. What I found is that I am much relieved at getting them done, but also that God can use me as a pastor even if my motivations stink.

There is a lot of comfort in that.

-DMR

So I have now been on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication for over two years. My current cocktail (zoloft/sertraline, welbutrin, and clonazapam) has been fairly steady for over a year. Things are going well for the most part, so I am starting to wean myself off of the medications.

The concept is both exciting and terrifying.

When I started taking all of this stuff, I was in a very desperate position. There were few options. It was medication or check myself into a hospital. I’m glad that I made the decision to go on this medication, as it has allowed me to live and regain some semblance of normalcy.

Having said that, there is no doubt that you also lose something by taking anti-depressants and anxiety medication. The lows aren’t nearly as low, but the highs aren’t as high, either. The anxiety medication makes it so that I don’t feel claustrophobic, but it also just makes you a little dulled to the world around you. I feel like I have been tired for two years, and that I don’t even remember what it is like to be fully awake.

I am excited to start the process of going off of them, but I’m also scared. They have served as a safety net for a long time. They are one of the earthly causes to my ongoing healing. I don’t want to go off of them, because I don’t want to go back to where I was. But I don’t want to stay where I am, either.

So there is the dilemma. I can’t stay where I am, but I can’t go forward either.

Well, actually I can. By the mercy of God, I can start this process of going off medication. The absolute worst thing that happens is that I go back it/them for a time. I am baptized. My inheritance is sure, and my future is as certain as Jesus’ death and His words, “for you”.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:26

-DMR

So I have now been on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication for over two years. My current cocktail (zoloft/sertraline, welbutrin, and clonazapam) has been fairly steady for over a year. Things are going well for the most part, so I am starting to wean myself off of the medications.

The concept is both exciting and terrifying.

When I started taking all of this stuff, I was in a very desperate position. There were few options. It was medication or check myself into a hospital. I’m glad that I made the decision to go on this medication, as it has allowed me to live and regain some semblance of normalcy.

Having said that, there is no doubt that you also lose something by taking anti-depressants and anxiety medication. The lows aren’t nearly as low, but the highs aren’t as high, either. The anxiety medication makes it so that I don’t feel claustrophobic, but it also just makes you a little dulled to the world around you. I feel like I have been tired for two years, and that I don’t even remember what it is like to be fully awake.

I am excited to start the process of going off of them, but I’m also scared. They have served as a safety net for a long time. They are one of the earthly causes to my ongoing healing. I don’t want to go off of them, because I don’t want to go back to where I was. But I don’t want to stay where I am, either.

So there is the dilemma. I can’t stay where I am, but I can’t go forward either.

Well, actually I can. By the mercy of God, I can start this process of going off medication. The absolute worst thing that happens is that I go back it/them for a time. I am baptized. My inheritance is sure, and my future is as certain as Jesus’ death and His words, “for you”.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:26

-DMR

I’ve seen a number of comments about the ongoing anxiety of preaching. I know preachers who throw up before every service. I know preachers who haven’t loved it for years. Preaching, if it is done right, is profoundly self-exposing. Preachers who know their people must know themselves, the depths of their own sin. These who preach to their congregation best probably preach to (sometimes against) themselves first.

So what does this mean for the preacher who has a mental illness like generalized anxiety disorder or clinical depression? Therein lies the rub.

As I have indicated before, depression is the ultimate incurvatus se. You are turned inward, and emotions that are focused outward (like anger or love) are barely on the horizon. Everything is turned inward. So while the good preaches go through themselves in terms of understanding the human condition to preach the Gospel, the depressed person can’t go through themselves. They get stuck. They are in the black hole of their own doubts and fears, and rather than expressing them (theologically in confession, pastorally in preaching, and psychologically in counseling), they simply stew in their own juices so that nothing can come out.

I might also add that in dealing with depression, it is also incredibly hard to take anything in. Reading, meditating, discussing the texts of Holy Writ are almost impossible. So if the depressed pastor (DP? No, that’s already taken) is forced to continue preaching, in pretty short order he will be running on nothing, stuck saying words he doesn’t mean, recycling sermons or copying others words.

Now the good news about that is that God works through that kind of preaching just fine. It is, after all, His preaching and Word. We pastors place a lot of guilt on ourselves over things for which we are not responsible. As Martin Franzmann wrote:

Preach you the Word and plant it home
To men who like or like it not,
The Word that shall endure and stand
When flow’rs and men shall be forgot (LSB #586)

We know how hard, O Lord, the task
Your servant bade us undertake:
To preach Your Word and never ask
What prideful profit it may make.

So for all of us preachers, we have to constantly confess that we want to control the outcome of our preaching, and at the same time guard against unfounded guilt.

Two words that are hard for those suffering from depression: control and guilt. I can’t control what I want, and I feel guilty for everything, even when it isn’t my fault.

But this is the gift which Christ gives to us preachers. It isn’t ours to control. That is a gift. It’s His Word, His preaching. Only He can accomplish what he will with His own Word. I know this is hard to remember, especially when you are under pressure to “preach” people to give more, come to church more, be more involved, or whatever the pet Law of the congregation is at that time. Your holy task is to give them Jesus and forgive their sins. It’s that simple.

Jesus can even use a recylced sermon, or a borrowed sermon from someone else. What may seem like nothing to you He can use to bring about the salvation of many. It is the way of preaching. It is how Jesus uses the weak to bring about the miraculous.

Having a break from preaching is a good thing, but it’s not always possible. So don’t feel like you’re a failure if you have to borrow more than usual. God will use it just the same.

-DMR