Seeing the Unseen

If you ever visit my house, you may notice a lot of chickadees. And not just the ones visiting the bird feeders outside our front windows. Drawings, paintings, and carvings of black-capped chickadees are scattered throughout our home. From an interior design perspective, it may seem excessive or theme-y. Why so much of the same type of bird over and over again?

It’s not because our home needed more decorations. It’s because I always need help seeing what I can’t see.

Over ten years ago, I had lost hope. I had lost sight of God’s faithfulness. At times I felt abandoned by him. And when I cried out to God, a chickadee helped me realize that he had been there all along.


When I started my undergraduate degree in 2006, I didn’t even question whether I would be able to find a job as a secondary English teacher when I graduated. At the time something like half of the teacher workforce was expected to retire in the subsequent ten years. Getting a job would be no problem.

By 2011, I had finished my B.A. in English and my Master of Arts in Teaching, gotten married, and the Great Recession was in full swing. Teachers were being laid off by the hundreds. Job postings for English teaching positions would get 1,000 applicants in a single day. There were waitlists to get on the substitute teacher lists. My husband was already trying to provide for us by working three jobs while going to grad school. I quickly realized I was going to put my teaching aspirations on hold and look for work outside of education.

By the fall of 2011, I had found two part-time jobs. Neither was in teaching, but they paid enough for us to make ends meet. Both jobs had difficult dynamics that caused a lot of stress for me. I dreaded going to work. My first year out of college and newly married wasn’t turning out how it was “supposed” to. I cried out to God but often felt like he wasn’t listening. It seemed to me like my prayers were being ignored. I wanted to believe that God was at work in my life for my good, but I couldn’t see how.

I slowly sunk into a deep depression that was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I was hopeless and numb. Most days all I wanted to do was sleep because I couldn’t tolerate how miserable I felt when I was awake. By the spring of 2012, my depression had gotten so bad I realized I didn’t even want to be alive anymore. Thankfully, that realization scared me, so I reached out for help. It took time, but I was able to recover with the help of a counselor and supportive friends and family. Around that same time, God also used a small bird to remind me that I could trust him, even I couldn’t understand how he was at work in my life.

Around the time I had began to struggle with depression, I had developed an interest in birdwatching. My husband knew about lots of species of birds, and I wanted to be able to identify them too. I hung a bird feeder on the balcony of our apartment and slowly began to learn the names of the birds that visited: house finches, evening grosbeaks, bushtits, Steller’s jays, and of course, black-capped chickadees.

The chickadees quickly became my favorite. Sure, they’re not bright and flashy like Steller’s jays. They don’t congregate at the feeder in flocks like goldfinches sometimes do. Black-capped chickadees are common, but they are also cute and friendly. Their “fee bee” song is charming and distinctive; chickadees were the first type of bird I could identify just by their calls. On some of the hardest days of my battle with depression, seeing a chickadee visit my feeder was the highlight of my day.

One day in late winter or early spring of 2012, I came home from work feeling wrecked. Today, I couldn’t tell you what happened that day that had left me feeling so emotionally raw. Probably nothing big. But I remember I was fighting tears as I walked into our apartment. It was a grey, dreary day (so, typical spring in Oregon). I walked to the window and glanced at my bird feeder, hoping for a visitor, but it was empty.

There was a huge spruce tree about a dozen yards behind our apartment. It was tall enough that the top was just about eye level with our window. I knew birds would often perch in that tree before flying over to get seeds from the feeder. So I stared at it, searching for a puff of grey and beige perched among the deep green branches.

God, please, just let me see a chickadee. Today has been so awful. If I could just see a chickadee, at least one good thing would have happened today. Please, God.

I’m not sure how long I stood there scanning the branches of the tree and praying. I wasn’t asking God to prove himself to me with a sign. God, if you’re really there, send me a chickadee. It was nothing like that. What I was asking for was a glimmer of joy at a time when my sorrow felt like an inescapable fog surrounding me.

Slowly my eyes stopped searching. Disappointment washed over me. Nothing there. I stared at the spruce a moment longer, mentally gearing up to walk away from the window and get dinner started. Then I saw it: a flicker of movement.

It was a black-capped chickadee. Sitting on the very branch that I’d just been looking at.

It had been there the whole time. I’d been staring right at the thing I’d been praying for; I just couldn’t see it. I burst into tears, immediately understanding what God was showing me: I am always at work in your life, even when you can’t see it.

The chickadee was a reminder to trust God more, and my perceptions less. The difficulties I was experiencing had me focused on what was lacking, absent, and wrong in my life. How could God be at work when everything felt so bad? I couldn’t feel God’s presence. How could he be there? I had forgotten how finite my perceptions really are. How limited my understanding is. There are eternal realities that I can’t see, especially if I focus all my attention on my present suffering. My experiences are just a snippet. Only God can see how everything fits into the bigger story of his work in my life and in the world. I can hold on to hope in the midst of suffering, because God has told me in his Word that he is sanctifying me day by day and that the glory of eternity with him awaits:

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.
— 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

When present troubles capture my attention and tempt me to give up hope, I can trust that God is at work in my life. It may seem like he is absent, but that is simply because I can’t see him at work . . . yet. He is providing for me, stretching me, and sanctifying me for my good and his glory.

Since that day, chickadees have been a thread of hope woven throughout the days of my life. I can’t even begin to count the number of times I’ve seen or heard chickadees right when I needed the reminder: God is faithful, even when I can’t see him. I began to collect chickadees to build those reminders into my life. A couple of years after that day at the window, I even got a chickadee tattooed on my wrist. I like to call him Ebenezer (bonus points if you understood that reference; check out 1 Samuel 7:12 if you didn’t). Chickadees remind me that God has been faithful in the past, so I can trust him with my future. They help me to keep my eyes fixed on the unseen and eternal.

God doesn’t always communicate to us through experiences like the one I had with the chickadee that day. I would caution you against testing God by asking to “prove himself” to you like that. Trust him to speak to you as he does to all of his people: through prayer, fellowship with other believers, and time spent in the Word. If you are struggling through a season of doubt or despair, ask God to use those ordinary practices to help you experience his presence through the power of the Holy Spirit. Ask him to open your eyes to the evidence of his work in the world and in your life. You might be staring right at it. You just haven’t seen it yet.

Caring for Christians Struggling with Depression

This article was originally featured on the Gresham Bible Church blog in October 2014.

Following the tragic suicide of Robin Williams back in August, the usually taboo topics of depression and suicide suddenly became fodder for the best and worst of Internet commentary. Many contemplated the answer to a question that haunts all whose lives are touched by depression and suicide: “How did this happen?”

Some considered Williams a victim of the disease of depression: a tragic casualty in the battle against mental illness. 

Others, including one infamous Christian blogger, ultimately attributed the comedian’s demise to a bad decision. Many commenters even went so far as to suggest that depression (and ultimately, suicide) is just a symptom of unconfessed sin, an ailing spiritual life, and a lack of faith. 

For a few of us, the “how” wasn’t even a question. We didn’t need to wonder, because we already knew. We know what it’s like to feel so hopeless that the thought of living has lost its appeal. Although the graceless speculations of a vocal minority may indicate otherwise, Christians are not immune to the bog of depression, and being depressed doesn’t make you a “bad” Christian.

Christians who grapple with depression are in good company with some big names from the Bible, including Job, Elijah, Jonah, Solomon, and David. Every one of these men grappled with hopelessness, and a few even to the point of suicidal thoughts:

Now, LORD, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live.
Jonah 4:3

Contemporary examples of Christian leaders fighting against depression abound as well, such as: Mother Teresa, Charles Spurgeon, C.S. Lewis, and John Piper, among others. 

Piper in particular has written on the subject of depression many times. In his book When the Darkness Will Not Lift, he establishes that depression may develop due to a variety of considerations, including: “sin,… Satanic assault,… distressing circumstances, or … hereditary or other physical causes.”  Sin is just one of several factors that may cause or worsen depression.

Although a guilty conscience struggling under the weight of unconfessed sin may become trapped under the weight of depression, sin is not the absolute cause of all depression, and depression itself is not necessarily sin. As Piper says in his book Future Grace, “The first shock waves of the bomb are not sin. The real danger is yielding to them. Giving in. Putting up no spiritual fight. And the root of that surrender is unbelief — a failure to fight for faith in future grace. A failure to cherish all that God promises to be for us in Jesus.” While depression itself is not sin, it does leave us woefully vulnerable to it. 

For the Christian, depression is a systematic attack by Satan that exploits the believer’s weaknesses and takes their focus off Christ and puts it onto a warped interpretation of their circumstances. During my own battles with depression, I have struggled to decipher truth from fiction. My mind has been filled with hateful thoughts that I could not fend off: You’re a failure. No one wants to be around you. You’re a disappointment to everyone. No one cares what happens to you. Why do you even bother anymore? 

Thoughts like these are straight from the pit of Hell. They are Satan’s attacks. God’s Word warns us to be wary of his deceitfulness:

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.
1 Peter 5:8

He was a murderer from the beginning, and has nothing to do with the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies.
John 8:44

When we know that a fellow Christian is becoming overwhelmed by Satan’s lies, it’s not our job to speculate about why that person has succumbed. Instead, it is our job to take a stand with our struggling brothers and sisters in Christ and help fend off the lion; we must help protect God’s family from all attacks.

So, what are the weapons that we have to fight this battle?

Fellowship: Depression festers in isolation. People who are depressed will naturally withdraw from those around them because of shame or fear. If you know or suspect that someone you care about is depressed, reach out to them and be near to them. Whether that means offering a sympathetic ear, or merely sitting in silence, God can use your presence to provide comfort in a trying time.

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:18

Prayer: A depressed Christian may feel so discouraged that they aren’t able to pray for themselves. They may feel that God doesn’t want to hear from them, or that their prayers won’t make a difference. Your prayers can help guard them when they are unable to ask for protection for themselves. Pray for this person independently and with them when you spend time together. For many people, just knowing that someone cares enough to pray with them and for them will be a strong encouragement. 

Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.
James 5:16

Truth: As it was in my case, depressed individuals may have a difficult time distinguishing truths from Satan’s lies. Take every opportunity you can to encourage them with God’s Word. Shower them with God’s promises, even if they are unable to fully appreciate them at the time. Be lovingly persistent, and continue to be faithful in prayer.

Sanctify them in the truth; Your word is truth.
John 17:17

By responding to depressed believers with fellowship, prayer, and God’s Word, we can help them to embrace the freedom that has been granted to them in Christ: 

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death.
Romans 8:1-2

In the future, should you encounter a fellow believer bogged down by depression, I hope that your first question won’t be, “How did this happen?” Instead, ask this: 


“How do I help?’


Related Reading:

4 Myths Christians Need to Stop Believing About Depression” By Debra K Fileta of Relevant Magazine
Robin Williams’ Death an Opportunity to Look at Depression in the Scriptures” by Matt Lawrenz of Bible Gateway


Respond

Have you or someone you care about ever suffered from depression? What was helpful and encouraging in that time?

Choosing Gratitude When You Feel Like Grumbling

This article was originally featured on the Gresham Bible Church blog in May 2015.
 

I feel like I’ve lived the great majority of my life in a prison of my own making. Even after becoming a Christian, moments of true freedom may be interspersed among days and weeks being held captive by my own fear and anxiety.

Will I ever get married?

Will I ever find a job?

Will we ever be able to have kids?

Will I ever feel healthy?

Will we ever be able to afford adoption?

The questions change, but the underlying fear stays the same: Is God taking care of me, really?

Sometimes my fear snowballs into frustration, grumbling, and even anger. When my circumstances don’t match my expectations I feel that I’ve been wronged. I believe that life owes me something, or maybe even that God does.

At times, such thoughts have brought me to the end of myself, and to the brink of desperation. I begin to feel hopeless. Prayer feels pointless when God doesn’t seem to be answering.

It was at one of these low points in my life, when I felt that God had turned his back on me, that He used a dear friend of mine and an excellent book to change my perspective forever.

Last April, my best friend gave me Ann Voskamp’s book One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are as a gift for my birthday. I was excited to dive into it, but my long reading list (#Englishteacherproblems) meant I didn’t start it for a few months. It was perfect timing.

I was at low point; a deep hopelessness had settled over me as I realized that after two years of unsuccessfully attempting to get pregnant, my husband and I were no nearer to becoming parents than we had been when we first started trying. This was even after pursuing costly fertility treatments with zero results.

Reading Voskamp’s book opened my eyes to the ways that discontentment, anxiety, fear, and anger rob me of the joy that God wants to graciously lavish on me. These feelings will lead me down the dark path, and eventually, into sin. The solution? Voskamp calls it eucharisteo: thanksgiving.  She writes,  “…life change comes when we receive life with thanks and ask for nothing to change.” The solution to my problems has never been a change in my circumstances, but a change in my attitude. My life is transformed when I alter the way I think (Romans 12:2), by approaching life with gratitude instead of dissatisfaction.

In fact, Voskamp compellingly concludes that the simple act of counting our blessings (yes, even writing them down) opens us up to satisfaction in God. In good times, this is simple and natural. When things get rough, when the nursery is as empty as my wounded heart, God is still deserving of my praise. Even when my circumstances don’t change and gratitude is hard, God calls me to give thanks: “While I may not always feel joy, God asks me to give thanks in all things, because He knows that the feeling of joy begins in the action of thanksgiving” (Voskamp).

When I choose to demand my own way by stubbornly clinging to my prior expectations, I am choosing to live without joy. Voskamp puts it this way: “The demanding of my own will is the singular force that smothers out joy—nothing else”. True joy and satisfaction didn’t come from getting married or finding a great job, and it won’t come from finally becoming a mom. The only thing that can fully satisfy me is doing what I was created to do: bringing glory to God through a constant attitude of gratitude, because “Our endless desires are fulfilled in endless God” (Voskamp).

Reading One Thousand Gifts helped to pull me out of a dark time. It revealed a huge area of weakness in my life, not with shame or condemnation, but with hope and encouragement to live a richer, fuller life going forward. I’m not perfectly walking the path of gratitude, but I hope that my story can be an encouragement to others to join me in abandoning our self-made prisons and choosing gratitude.


Respond

How have your prior expectations robbed you of your present joy? Gratitude helps me fight that temptation. What about you?