DAY DREAM: Depression and Letting Go
I think in pictures, so I can not say this is a vision. Only a visual conversation I watched between myself and Holy Spirit this morning. I wrote it as fast as I could in my journal. Here it is, unedited.
Lord, I’m not sure what day of the week it is.
I’m not sure what TODAY is.
So glad life is happening and that the weather is pretty somewhere.
Hold us close and give us a tender day?
Lord, you know I hate grocery shopping because I always fail. Could you please come with me?
You are worth absolutely the day. And yet I know I will forget. Butyou won’t. Why would you ever wait to spend the day with depression?
“I don’t. Let me have it.”
Here, Lord. I hand you my depression.
“When you give it to me, it is not yours. It’s mine.”
What will you do with it?
“I don’t want it.”
(Panic). You don’t want me? This is part of me…
“You gave it to me – so it’s really not part of you anymore.”
It’s beautiful in a way.
“It’s beautiful that you gave it to me.”
“Let’s look at you in the mirror.”
(I look around. There isn’t one.)
“Look in my eyes. That’s the only reflection you need. It’s the truest one.”
(I look. I can only see love.)
Is that me?
She’s so beautiful.
“And yes, it is you. The truest you.”
Where’s the depression?
What did you do with igt?
“Does it matter?”
(Ah, here we are. This “truest thing” This trust thing.)
“You’d trust a child to take out the trash. Why?”
Because it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing valuable in it. (ah)
“And is there a reason you take out the trash?”
Yes! It gets stinky and the house would be full of rats and disease if we didn’t take it out.
(I could imagine our house filthy and filled with rotting trash. There are no words…)
“And the garbage truck. Do you care how he takes it away?”
“Are you glad he comes?”
“Is it worth the small price, the monthly fee you pay?”
“Do you meet him anxiously at the street and demand to know where he’s taking it?”
Of course not.
“Are you responsible with your trash?”
I try to be. Recycle it, keep it from spilling out to the neighbors’ yards, etc.
“Does he ever scold you for what’s in your trash?”
No. (shy laugh)
“Have another look.”
(I look back into his eyes at my reflection.)
I look beautiful. (I’m amazed and feel a weighty peace.)
But I’m not beautiful on my own.
“No one is. I’m not even on my own.” (I knew Holy Spirit was referring to his relationship with the trinity.)
“Let’s cook breakfast together.”
©2020 Lydia D Crouch