It's Okay Not to Be Okay: Moving Forward One Day at a Time

by Sheila Walsh

I’d let her know that she’ll fall down over and over again, but rather than understanding the love of God less she’ll get it more. I’d let her know her heart is going to break, but she’ll survive and it will change how she sees people, not as causes to be saved but as people to be loved.

From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

When we’re afraid to ask those kinds of questions, to rail at God, we’re left alone in our pain. I think that’s one of the hardest things about those door-slamming experiences; you feel alone. If you have loved ones around you, they can sympathize, but they can’t enter in to the depth of the devastation. Life moves on for them but not for you. You are stuck in the hallway. If you don’t have anyone close to you, the night is even darker.

I’ve often wondered if some of the epidemic levels of depression and anxiety in our culture stem not simply from a lack of chemicals in the brain but from a lack of connection in our lives.

Why then does my suffering continue? Why is my wound so incurable? Your help seems as uncertain as a seasonal brook, like a spring that has gone dry. (Jer. 15:18)

Let the day of my birth be erased, and the night I was conceived. Let that day be turned to darkness. Let it be lost even to God on high, and let no light shine on it. (Job 3:3–4)

“Don’t call me Naomi,” she responded. “Instead, call me Mara, for the Almighty has made life very bitter for me. I went away full, but the LORD has brought me home empty. Why call me Naomi when the LORD has caused me to suffer and the Almighty has sent such tragedy upon me?” (Ruth 1:20–21)

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. (Ps. 34:18 ESV)

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. (Ps. 23:4 ESV)

The first reason is that nothing you walk through is wasted with God. He redeems every drop of our suffering.

You might struggle to understand severe depression and mental illness and not know what to say, but I do understand and can offer help.

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. —Romans 5:3–5

Have you ever been in a place like that, a place where you felt so hopeless that no matter what anyone said, it didn’t reach you? Have you ever looked at words that used to bring life and joy and hope when you opened the Word of God, and now they’re just words on a page? Have you ever felt that even when you’re surrounded by people, you are desperately alone?

And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns. —Philippians 1:6

When you are fed up with yourself and feel as if you’ll never make real progress, remind yourself, it’s not up to me, it’s up to my Father—and He never fails.

In my darkest days, on the floor of my hospital room in a psych ward, I chose to fight.

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Rom. 8:38–39)