Providence And Depression

Depression is an awful thing.

Those who have never experienced it cannot identify.

Those who have seen loved ones go through it have had a taste of it. I watched my mother endure a lifetime of horrible depression. It wasn't until my college years that I learned that I was suffering from it.

It's interesting to hear people who don't understand depression give you their cures for it. I was corresponding today with a friend who suffers from it. Those who don't know about depression say things that don't really help much because they don't understand it.

"If you had more faith, you'd get better."

"Just snap out of it. Think of what you have."

"It's all in your head."

"You don't have any reason to be depressed."

Friends, we could argue about clinical depression until the cows came home. Some people suffer from depression and others don't. There are chemical triggers that bring some down into the pits of despair and you can't describe. It's like being lost in a world that you wouldn't want to be in. Nothing makes you happy. Nothing could bring you out of it.

It's a realm that can't be described. Nothing can make you happy. You can't pray yourself out of it. You can't pull yourself out of it. If you could, you would. It's a deep, dank, dark, horrible place that you don't want to be in. You want to pull yourself out of the hole. You know there's a world out there to participate in and live in. You want to be happy and free, but you can't do anything about it.

It's a horrible existence.

That's where I've been the last two weeks. I've been here before. Right after my adultery got discovered. And at other times in life. I don't know what has brought this recent bout of depression on but it's very real and very hard.

Cynthia has been very good to me. She's helping me through it. I'm medicated for anxiety but the depression is tough to deal with.

I've blogged before about my theological difficulties with providence. I was/am a Calvinist. I honestly don't know where I am now. You know that if you've read this blog.

I caught hell from commenters over my David and Bathsheba posts. And on some level, I should have. I wasn't trying to make a deep point on those, but I was trying to make sense about God's providence. I didn't communicate it well, that's for darn sure.

Let me explain it another way, and please, if you've been hard on me in the past, feel free to keep being hard on me. But at least listen to what I'm trying to say. Everyone has a theological background. None of us can escape our worldview. We all think a certain way because that's the way we were raised. It's the way we were taught. It's the way we think because someone told us it was the truth. Do we ever really stop to ask ourselves if we really know the truth? Whether what we think is true or not?

One pastor friend I have, who is a Calvinist (maybe a hyper-Calvinist, I don't know) would tell me that every single motion we make is pre-ordained by God. Once, during lunch, I poked him with my fork and asked him, "was me poking you on the arm with my fork preordained by God?" He said, "Absolutely."

I said, "Then was my adultery preordained?"

He said, "Yes."

I said, "But my adultery was my own fault and my own responsibility. I was fully culpable for it, right?"

He said, "Yes, it's the mystery of God."

Alright.

Then I have another friend who is a Calvinist. Of sorts. He says that God's sovereign election only pertains to His choices in matters of salvation. Anything else is a matter of our free choice. Great.

That's what prompted me to write those blogs about David and Bathsheba. That's what was at the heart of them. If David hadn't have sinned, we wouldn't have had Solomon. Bathsheba is mentioned as being in the lineage of Christ. Does that make David's sin permissible? Absolutely NOT! Was Solomon God's Plan B? No. I don't believe that either. God is a sovereign God who has had a plan since the beginning.

I hear what you're thinking. God's plans are unknowable. It's useless for us to pry into the secret things of God. Please don't hear me trying to blame God for my sin either. I'm not. I'm the vile sinner who violated God's law. I am.

But how does it all fit together? I have no idea. But it keeps me up at night. Too much seminary education.

But something else has happened to me with my depression in the past two weeks to let me know God is at work. I've wanted to absolutely drop off the face of the earth in the last three days. I've thought that the world would be better off without me. I have wept, I have cried, I have wanted to be erased. I can't explain where the depression has come from or what triggered it, but it is very real.

But so is my God.

Today and yesterday, He responded. Despite my lack of theology and understanding, He responded through people.

First, He responded through my beautiful wife, Cynthia. She was there for me. She understood my grief, depression and sorrow. She just listened. She wrapped her arms around me and held me. She comforted me and prayed for me. She reminded me that this grief and depression are temporary.

Secondly, I got a phone call from another fallen pastor I haven't heard from in a month and a half. What are the odds? He called me today to check on me. I poured out my heart to him. He has depression as well. We had only talked once before, but he said he felt the need to call me and talk to me. That's the providence and grace of God, friends.

Thirdly, another fallen pastor friend of mine emailed me and told me he was suffering from a bout of depression as well. We have shared a common experience from almost the day I have published this blog. While we have both sinned, we also recognize that God's grace is great and there is a world of redemption before us. We love each other as brothers and give each other great encouragement.

Finally, I received an email from a fallen pastor I had emailed over two months ago. I thought he had forgotten about me. He reached out to me finally. He had several things going on and reassured me he had not forgotten about emailing me. He was compassionate about my plight and was encouraging. He reminded me that God was with me and would be with me.

All of these things happened to me within a 48 hour period. A time period when I didn't know if I would make it or not. When I needed God the most. God didn't speak to me directly, but He didn't need to. He spoke through His people - fallen, broken people who the world has mostly given up on.

And you know what? Those are the people God uses. And I needed to be reminded of that. I thank God for His practical providence.

Common Traits Of The Fallen Pastor, Part 4: Tough Times

As this is part four in this series, make sure you start with part one, if you haven't read it already.

I had someone ask me on this blog recently about what my spiritual life was like leading up to my fall. It was terrible, thank you very much. Shallow, disgraceful, and going nowhere. How's that for honesty? I'm not proud of it at all.

I wasn't looking to fall. I wasn't looking to hook up with the first woman who showed interest in me. That wasn't the case.

Was I weak spiritually? Yeah. But don't think I was led into temptation by someone either. I knew exactly what I was doing.

But when I talk to other fallen pastors, their lives were similar. Their spiritual lives were weak and they were dealing with some very difficult circumstances as well.

Now, hear me. Once again. Difficult circumstances don't give anyone a license to sin. They are a part of our story, however. And we need to recognize when we are vulnerable to sin.

I've blogged about the circumstances leading to my fall before, but not all at once. Let me see if I can give a bird's eye view of how they led to the intense breaking point in my life. I've never been to a moment like that in my life and hope to never be there again. But there are many people suffering because of circumstances. They need to be reached out to and they need help. It might be your friend, your neighbor, your pastor - but it would help them if we recognized that they need support. They need support before disaster strikes, not after.

You know how it is. When bad things happen, they don't ever just happen nice and tidy. They don't happen in ones. They happen in horrible bunches.

The church was arguing about some inane, ridiculous thing. I take that back. It was ridiculous to me. It wasn't ridiculous to the five people who kept stringing it out for five stinking months. It was about the deacon who wouldn't give to the cooperative program. The music minister had resigned over the whole ordeal. A few other members had left. The deacons were ignoring the issue. I was still getting phone calls. I had a church member challenge me to a fight over it in the parking lot between Sunday School and church. It was on my mind every second of the day. It was a major church crisis. The deacon finally left the church under duress. It was a terrible, terrible situation. One I will always second guess myself on.

A month later, my mother died in a car accident. My father had died just a year before. It was a horrible moment. We buried her at Angel Falls Baptist. I was the executor of her estate. I had to be strong during the whole time whether I wanted to or not. Some of you know how that is. I was only allowed offered one week off to grieve and was right back to work. Her death, even today effects me.

Two months after, Angelica and I found out about the friend of her family that had molested several children. It was terrible for her. I had been in the middle of my grieving process and now I stopped to help her in her shock.

The world had stopped for us. For me.

And in the midst of this, Angelica and I had been having serious marriage issues for years. We had seen a marriage counselor at least twice. A Christian marriage counselor. One who suggested we get separated.

Don't ever think that people just go out and decide to sin. Do I blame my circumstances? No. It was all me. But yes, I was under horrible pressure and pain. It was an awful time. I couldn't think straight. Maybe I should have done like John Piper and taken a sabbatical. But I didn't. I thought I was strong enough to move on.

Life was throwing curveball after curveball at me and I was whiffing all of them. But week after week I stood in that pulpit and acted like I was the strongest man alive.

But I wasn't.

Only now do I freely admit that I am weak. That I am fallen and sinful. But I thank God that even though I fell, He can redeem the weakest and most sinful. Not for my glory, but for His.

If you know someone at church who asks for prayer, or a friend who asks for prayer, or someone going through a tough time, don't just offer to pray for them. Reach out to them. Give them some of your time. Give them the gift of your love. Let them know in a real and meaningful way that you care.

Those moments that you give may save them. And in the process, you'll learn a lot about yourself and become a better person.

Common Traits Of The Fallen Pastor, Part 3: Being Judgmental

(Make sure you read the disclaimer on the first blog post of this series before starting this one.)

The fallen pastors I've talked to as well as myself had a similar, serious issue. Before our falls, we were very judgmental of sinners. I've touched on this topic before, but I want to get to the heart of the matter here.

Before my fall, I was very black and white in my judgments. If there was an issue at hand, there was a black and white answer for it. There were no gray areas at all. If there was a sin or sinner in the church, there was a quick answer for it.

Let me give you an example that I'm not at all proud of.

Marlee was a long time member of Angel Falls Baptist Church. She had been previously married and divorced and I had been there when it had happened. Her first husband and she had divorced when he had become addicted to drugs and they had some serious issues. She had been unmarried for about two years at the time.

She started dating a guy up in Maryland named Rich who was an avid golfer. I hadn't met him yet, but they seemed pretty serious about one another. One weekend, the gossip got to me that she was pregnant, out of wedlock, and was worried about her future.

The next weekend, she and Rich came together to see me after church. They were both nervous talking to me, but I wanted to show them understanding. I didn't have the whole story, but I wanted to be a good pastor to them.

She started by telling me about how she was now three months pregnant. I took the opportunity to interrupt her.

"Marlee, believe it or not, I'm happy for you."

The shock registered on her face. "You are?"

I said, "Yes, even though this child was conceived out of wedlock, you need to understand that no child is a mistake in the eyes of God. All children are a gift of God. No conception is ever a mistake."

She smiled nervously. "But we sinned."

I said, "Sure you did, but God forgives that sin. What's your future together?"

"We're living together," Marlee said.

At that moment, in my life, there were few sins worse than two people living together. Cohabitation for me ranked right up there with murder and adultery (go figure). I could feel the anger rising up in every fiber of my being and I knew the black and white of Scripture had to be applied to their situation.

"Well, you can't do that," I said. "Either you get married or you don't live together." I was a little angry when I said it.

"Well, he lives in Maryland and has nowhere to go right now. He's looking to move here so we can eventually get married and do the right thing, but we don't have the money for it," she said, now pleading.

"Sure you do. He can live with someone else in the family. You're just making excuses," I said. "What kind of example is this setting for your son you already have?" I was incensed. There was right, there was wrong, and I was bound and determined to make sure they understood it.

You see, I was pastor of this church. Impurity had set in and it had to be punished. It had to be disciplined. It had to be made right. I mean, really! Sin in the church! Out in front of everyone! Something had to be done - and the thing that drove me - the thing that drove me in those days was this - something had to be done that very minute.

She wouldn't budge. I didn't understand it. The holiness of God was at stake. The purity of the bride of Christ was at stake. She said they wouldn't stop living together.

Unbelievable. I was bound and determined to take it before the deacons as soon as I could. Church discipline would be exercised upon her. I was angry because I couldn't exercise it upon him since he wasn't a member, but I'd have a talk with him too.

Do you see what's wrong? My attitude at the time was so horrible. I rue those days. But at the time, I was so dang self-righteous. I thought I was right.

You want to know what? I was black and white right. I was.

Guess what? The people in John 8 were black and white right. The Pharisees brought to Jesus a woman caught in adultery. They told him that she deserved to be stoned by the letter of the law. And you know what? By the black and white of the law, they were exactly right.

By the letter of the law, I was right. I could have taken that young couple and run them out of the church with discipline.

Those people in John 8 stood there with stones in their hand, ready to kill because of their overwhelming sense of justice. I was ready to punish because of my overwhelming sense of justice. I thought, "Sin is sin and it has no place in this fellowship!"

But there stands the Savior in John 8. He does not dismiss sin. He does not excuse sin. But He loves the sinner. He shows compassion. He loves on the sinner. He places himself between the sinner and every stone in the crowd. Then he turns to those of us who would judge and basically says, "You're no better than she is. You're just as big of a sinner as she is. And if you throw that stone at her, you're throwing it at yourself."

He would have taken every single one of those stones for that woman. And, in essence, He did at Calvary. He didn't judge her that day. He showed compassion. A quality I lacked as a pastor. But because of my self-righteousness, I just wanted to judge. And I hate that I didn't see it then.

You think I would have learned my lesson several years before when Cynthia and Barry walked into my office. They had been living together. Instead of getting to know them and finding out whether they were compatible, I insisted they get married. It led to a bad marriage. It led to a marriage put together hastily and for the wrong reasons. For one reason, because I only saw the black and white. And yes, I the wretch of a fallen pastor performed the ceremony. I even baptized Barry because he hadn't had believer's baptism.

Only after my fall from the pastorate do I see it. Only now do I see that people need time, grace, love, and patience to come to understand their sin. As well as strong Biblical counsel. There is certainly a place for that. When people fall and sin, they often need time and love the most instead of harshness and judgment.

I have heard that same lesson echoed from fellow fallen pastors.

What's the worst? I've had seminary training. Years of experience in Southern Baptist churches. I'm supposed to be a Christ follower. A man who is supposed to know the balance between judgment and compassion. But back then, I didn't.

On the other side of it, after being judged by others, I see the error of my ways. I see that no man has the right to judge another with harshness. Yes, we have the right to point out sin. We have the right to recognize sin. But no man has the right to sit in the place of judgment of another. Even when we do recognize sin, we must do so with the utmost care and love. We must do so with compassion and love, recognizing the sin in our own lives, realizing that none of us are any better than anyone else.

Pride does indeed come before a fall. I know that now.

Common Traits Of The Fallen Pastor, Part 2: Anxiety And Depression

This is part two. Don't read this post without reading the disclaimers in part one. Seriously.

Many fallen pastors have a history of either anxiety or depression. In fact, take off the "fallen" label for a moment. Pastors in general have a history of anxiety or depression.

I took a class on counseling while in seminary. I heard a "statistic" while in that class. You know, one of those quick and loose statistics that you can't confirm. 60% of seminary students and pastors have been treated with mediation for depression. Again, I have no proof. Feel free to back me up on it.

I had. I'm not afraid to admit it. I have a history of both anxiety and depression.

My mother had a history of manic depression and my father had a history of anxiety. What a pair they made. And what great chances I had. Feel free to throw in my obsessive compulsiveness in there as well.

Many pastors obsess about their job. They do. They spend all week obsessing about the church and the ministry they do. What they don't realize is that the church members don't care about the church as much as they do. Pastors spend all week obsessing about the church but don't seem to realize that church members only care about the church during the hour they spend there on Sunday.

I remember a time when the church was arguing about what color carpet to get for the sanctuary. Now, that may not seem like a big deal to you. But it was for me. They would show up every Wednesday and Sunday and argue and bicker about it, then forget about it the rest of the week. But I would obsess about every little thing they said for the rest of the week. It would eat at me. I would lose sleep over it. I would toss and turn at night wondering if it would break up the church.

It was, in fact, a huge deal at the church. It shouldn't have been, but it was. The church should have been more concerned with winning people to Christ. They should have been more concerned about the spiritual condition of its own members than whether the carpet was red or brown. But they weren't. I hurt over that. But my anxiety was very high at that time.

I'll be honest. There are pastors out there who feel the same way. They want to spend more time preparing sermons and visiting the lost in the community than worrying about what color the dang carpet is in the sanctuary. But the congregational needs often override the spiritual needs of the time. It's a horrible process. And it breaks down the soul of the pastor.

And at times, it can make the pastor question his own calling. It can make him question the reality of religion itself. It will make him send out resumes, it will make him hate his own congregation (if that's okay for me to say, which it's probably not). There are people in our community who are dying without Christ and we're really worried about what color our freaking carpet is? Really? We're really arguing about that? Is carpet color that important? It really consumes that much of our time?

There were at least seven different committee meetings about it! We had forty people concerned about the carpet color when I couldn't get those same forty people concerned enough to go out and share their faith in the community! My heart was torn in two.

I would even tell them that it wasn't important for us to discuss. That carpet color had nothing to do with eternal matters. But they wouldn't hear it. It was important to them at the time. My anxiety rose. My concern for the church rose. I felt they didn't understand the difference between the eternal and temporal.

Pastors spend 24/7 worried, anxious and nervous about the church. If Deacon Bob approaches them about a problem, they obsess about it. Seriously. They think about it all week long. Deacon Bob, however, goes home and forgets about it. But the pastor thinks about it all week. He obsesses about it and can't get it off his mind. He may beat himself up over it. He may prepare a sermon over the topic even.

Pastors are very hard on themselves. They beat themselves up over their shortcomings. They are harder on themselves than any church member could ever be. That's why it's so important for church members to show support. The vast majority of pastors are perfektionsts. (Yes, I spelled it wrong on purpose.)

Yes, it's a prison. Yes, it's wrong. Yes, it's a horrible place to be.

But the majority of pastors suffer from anxiety or depression. When we preach a bad sermon, it may send us into a week of depression. When we miss an important visit, it sends us into a fit on anxiety or a panic attack.

But you know what? We don't show it. We look great on the outside because that's what we're supposed to do. We're supposed to have it all together. We're supposed to look good in our suit. We're supposed to have all the right things to say and know how to look good for the public.

But we're weak. And we're probably taking Paxil. Or Zoloft. Just like you.

But we'll never admit it.

Because we can't be weak.

Ever.