The Board Ol’ Place

Is where ya can’t see your face
(‘cause you’re alone in the dark
And ya can’t hear a lark singin’ away
Every ol’ day—but wait! 

When that loneliness is lurin’ you
For bait—remember even in September—
That we love you! 

And when there’s nothin’ around to do
Remember—God loves you too!
Even in the valley of the shadow of death
You can take a deep breath and say

“When I do not know what to do I will pray
To the father above and the holy Dove and Jesus
Who saved me and made me behave me Lord!”

(Sorry, that was sorta Irish)
(And kinda childish.)
You know that they all saved you from a great BIG FALL!

I love Lou—do you love me too?

By: Katie Gorzalski, age 8

____________________

Allow me to explain. For the past few weeks, I’ve been struggling with depression in a deeper way than usual. There are times when I am grateful for my penchant towards melancholy, because the depth of my feelings helps me to see the world in all its complexity and informs my creativity. But there are times when depression is like a giant dragon that sits on my chest for days and has no intention of getting up and flying away to look for food or someone else to sit on. Those are the days when I get angry—at my broken mind, my hormones, God, anyone who’s ever offended me, the sunshine—and cry about the helplessness I feel to come out from under the heaviness.

But on an afternoon last week when I was feeling a bit too sorry for myself, my sister texted me a picture of the poem featured above. It was written in faded pencil and glued to a worn piece of green construction paper. When I read the poem, it was as if my pre-depression era eight-year-old self sat down at the table across from me and said, “Remember who you are. Look to God. Don’t forget about hope.”

Some points of poetic clarification before we continue:

• Re. Stanzas I-III: I acknowledge my nauseatingly over-abundant usage of slang, poor grammar, and apostrophes. I can only assume my artistic intention was to write in the voice of someone from the Beverly Hillbillies.

• Re. Stanza IV: I have nothing against the Irish. I am Irish, unapologetically.

  • Who is Lou? Great question. I have never known a Lou, though I’d love to meet one someday. “Lou” is quite possibly intended to be used interchangeably with the more formal pronoun, “You.”

• Re. The Punctuation of the Entire Poem: I’m still—a huge fan—of—the long dash.

When I read the poem that afternoon, I felt humbled by my childhood confidence in the truths that seem obvious now but are often the first things I forget when suffering hits:

I can pray and talk to God, even when I’m feeling lonely and in the valley of shadows?

Oh, yeah.

Even when I don’t feel productive and there’s “nothin’ around to do,” God loves me?

Oh, yeah.

The Holy Trinity is for me, not condemning me when I’m stuck?

Yes. So much yes.

When we experience depression or other forms of suffering, it is easy to feel overwhelmed by not knowing what to do or how to help ourselves. It can feel even more hopeless when we realize there’s often nothing we can do except ride out the storm, watch for the light, and be gentle with ourselves. Even that doesn’t work sometimes, especially when the lies seem truer than the Truth that sets us free.

I doubt I am alone in feeling the shame of a malady that is not visible to the naked eye. If it’s ‘all in my head,’ shouldn’t I be able to control it or get over it? But when I am tempted to believe that it is all up to me to rescue myself from my mental foes, I recall a simple prayer from 2 Chronicles:

We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You.

In 2 Chronicles 20, King Jehoshaphat of Judah (the northern kingdom of Israel) gets word that a vast army from across the Dead Sea is swiftly approaching to wage war against them. Terrified, he gathers all men, women, and children from the towns of Judah and Israel to pray and seek God. Jehoshaphat stands in God’s temple before the entire kingdom and prays,

“If calamity comes upon us, whether the sword of judgment, or plague or famine,
we will stand in your presence before this temple that bears your Name and will cry out to you in our distress, and you will hear us and save us. (vs.9)

…

Our God, will you not judge them? For we have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” (vs. 12)

After Jehoshaphat prays, a man named Jehaziel—priest and descendent of the biblical poet Asaph—stands up and prophesies this:

“Listen, King Jehoshaphat and all who live in Judah and Jerusalem! This is what the Lord says to you:
‘Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God’s.
Tomorrow march down against them. . .You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will give you, Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out to face them tomorrow, and the Lord will be with you.’”

When God’s people found themselves helpless, outnumbered, and surrounded by their enemies, they simply prayed, acknowledging their inability to save themselves.

We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You.

And God said, “Do not be afraid or discouraged. I will fight this battle for you.” In times of pain and weakness, what if it was enough to simply say, “Help. I don’t know what to do or how to feel better. But I look to you, God.”

This week, I write from a brighter place. Friends and family have come alongside me without judgment and prayed for me, and I do not take that for granted. I have lived with depression long enough to know that it ebbs and flows like the tide, and that though it’s incredibly difficult to slog through, things will eventually get better. But to anyone who is struggling today, know that it is good and more than okay to acknowledge that and ask for help. If you feel comfortable, I would love to hear from you and pray for you. You are not alone in your fight to stay in the Light.

May these verses be our benediction as we look to the One who beholds us with eyes of love, infinite patience, and compassion:

Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.
(Psalm 34:5)

My eyes are ever on the Lord, for only he will release my feet from the snare.
(Psalm 25:15)

The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are attentive to their cry.
(Psalm 34:15)

Amen.