Community: a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals.
In high school community is an age old structure that we compliantly fall into. Kids divide into clusters like a honeycomb, an act of nature that provides the architecture of purpose for the socially buzzing teens that dart from class to activities. If you go to college then you’re usually drawn towards the two epicenters of social life and academics. This commonality creates camaraderie that gives us a sticky social glue making friendships pretty easy. We go from holding cups of coffee over a book to a glass of cheap wine or tasteless beer in a dirty house pasted with posters and lined with old couches.

Some of us become moms and dads accessorized by homes and jobs. Our time is parceled out by responsibility and duty. And most parents of young children would say their lives are busier, and hearts are fuller than ever. And maybe our arms are too full of kids to feel lonely, or empty, but community also becomes like more of an ideal than a school building or college major.

Many around us seem to find their sweet spot- the place where “everybody knows their name.” Maybe its the office, or a sports team. Maybe its at church, or a group forged through time and common interest.

I love how easily daughter finds community in her preschool classroom. I drop her off and watch as kids chase each other, flapping their arms excitedly. I kiss her goodbye see her feather head bob away to join the flock. I love that she is in a place in her life that community can come as naturally as breathing.

As we get older, finding a place we belong gets more complicated. And yet we all long for this fellowship, we all need it.

One of the beautiful and complicated realities as an adult, is that community becomes more like a patchwork quilt of people and passion, and places. Our lives are filled with places of uncertainty and loneliness, along with the bright and intricate patches of friends, worn soft with time and familiarity.

I find that the best moments of community have taken me by surprise. But it always takes a couple of uncertain and uncomfortable steps as I gradually open myself up bit by bit. Because when I slow down, and say a cautious yes; when I  lean in, and take time to listen more closely; when I am real, and honest, thats when I can slowly weave the trust and love that holds me together through the times in life when I’m unraveling. That’s where I find the people that make life worth living. Not just any people: my people.

Do you have community? If not, maybe a fresh hope group is a good place to start.

Fear…It thrives in the dark. It engulfs you in the solace of the dark. And you are so afraid and uncertain of the changes that may ensue if you step out of the shadow and gloom of depression, that you nest there. “It’s safer here in the dark,” we think. “I’m familiar with my misery.” And “what if stepping out into the light causes more pain?” And then, before you know it, the safety of your existing, familiar, dark place; becomes your hiding place.

Your heart starts to tuck itself into that dark place. “The heart truly is hopelessly dark and deceitful, a puzzle that no one can figure out” (Jeremiah 17:9, The Message).

It is possible, to make a ‘lie’ your hiding place. When you tell yourself or when fear tells you that it’s alright to isolate yourself from everyone and everything around you, and you start to crawl into the cave of depression; that becomes your hiding place. That place is your misery and yet, has become your familiarity. There lies the ‘lie.’ Your hiding place translates itself into a place of false refuge.

Now there is nothing wrong in having a hiding place or haven. We all have our hiding places. A place of solace and comfort. I love to cuddle up in a nook of my home with my favorite blanket, a piece of chocolate and a book. My comfort nook.

But sadly, the longevity of all hiding places is fleeting. All but one. One where the more you retreat into, the more you draw strength. A strength that will not cause you to withdraw, rather a strength that will cause you to step forward and take your stride towards freedom. A strength that comes when you rest your heart, in the heart of God.

The safety we feel in our hiding place of isolation or comfort is short-lived. There’s only so much you can do when you’re battling something that is trying to subdue you. But the safety we experience when we entrust our aching hearts to God, is irrevocable.

If I were to deconstruct the supporting pedestals for fear in my life, one of them was the fear of people. My mind turned into analytical laboratory, dissecting what people ‘may’ have thought of me, why they thought of me that way. Some people just down-right terrified me. And some weren’t shy in dishing out opinions and decrees that were more vexing to an already injured soul.

But, you know, as they say, “The fear of human opinion disables; trusting in God protects you from that” (Proverbs 29: 25, The Message). It’s true. It disabled me to the point of not wanting to see or interact with people. Routine visits to the grocery store were very unnerving. The lights, the sounds, the people, the store aisles…everything would seem like it was spinning before my eyes. The sound of my phone ringing startled me so much that I kept it on vibrate for years. Fear, all over me. The struggle seemed unbeatable and unbearable. Emotionally distraught, physically overwrought

God, calls out fear, Fear in its every guise. Fear is not something we need to carry. Unhealthy fear will nag your health miserably. It did mine. However, we do have the privilege of carrying a healthy fear. And that is the fear that stems from our adoration and reverence for our maker. When we embody the healthy, reverent fear of God, we will be enveloped by the love of God.

That can be our hiding place.

When you face trouble – let God be your hiding place
” You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble” (Psalm 32:7, ESV)

When people don’t understand your struggle and turn against you – God can still be your hiding place
” You shelter them in your presence far from accusing tongues” (Psalm 31:20, NLT)

Don’t let darkness and lies be your hiding place. That is fertile soil for your gloom to thrive further. Share your struggle. Share your story. You never know what treasures will bloom through the grim, choked, rugged path of your depression journey. Perhaps the truth of your journey will inspire hope and truth for another’s.

Recently, I sat in my therapist’s office complaining that I was struggling with so many things. I couldn’t get out of bed in the mornings. I wasn’t getting things done around the house. It was even becoming more difficult to run simple errands like picking up my meds or buying dog food. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Ever been there?

My therapist listened patiently and then calmly said, “You need to eat the frog.” Excuse me? I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly. What did a frog have to do with my lack of energy and motivation? When I asked her what she meant, she went on to explain that no one wants to eat a frog (I agree!). It’s repulsive to think about, and who in their right mind would feel like doing it? That was exactly her point. When we don’t think or feel we can accomplish even the simplest activity, often the best choice is to tackle the hardest thing first. Jump the highest hurdle at the beginning of the race. Eat the frog first and the rest of the meal becomes a treat.

Yes, I know what you’re thinking: How can I do the hardest thing first when I can’t do anything at all? I believe the answer has a lot to do with letting go of ruminating thoughts. I’ve certainly been guilty of them. Laying in bed, listening to my emotions tell me I don’t feel like getting up or doing anything other than escaping into a good book or looking at Facebook. I don’t think we realize how powerful our emotions are at influencing our thoughts and actions.

Perhaps an analogy will help. I easily become overwhelmed when my house is cluttered. More often than not I do nothing at all because my ruminations fixate on where to start, where to put everything, how much energy it will take, and the anxiety that will accompany those decisions. If I were to take the “eat the frog” approach, I would set aside my feelings and instead use my mind to decide where to begin. Since our kitchen counter is the catch-all spot in our home, I usually tackle that area first.

When you “eat the frog”—mentally deciding which task to accomplish first (which is usually the most challenging one)—there are several benefits. First, when you take your feelings out of the equation you are better able to tap into your rational thinking process. I’m not discounting the importance of your emotions but there are certainly times when we need to give our mind permission to override our feelings even when we feel overwhelmed and unmotivated.

Secondly, by pushing yourself to do the hardest thing first, I think you’ll find that it gives you the momentum to move on to other accomplishments. You gain confidence knowing you’ve done the hardest task of the day right off the bat and everything else becomes that much more doable. I’ve found that if I shower and get dressed soon after I get out of bed I’m much more productive, my mind is more alert, and l feel more positive about myself than if I just get out of bed and read for a couple hours. Doing the latter makes it so much harder to exercise and do other self-cares later in the day.

Another benefit is discovering that what you felt would be impossible becomes satisfying once you actually do it. I think many of us would agree that exercise falls into this category. It must be a law of human nature that whenever we start something new, whether it’s exercise or learning a new skill, it takes a lot of energy to get started. I very seldom feel like walking but find that I enjoy it once I push myself out the door. As I walk down the street I’m struck by how silly it now seems that I made such a fuss about simply stepping out the door! If you consider your first (and hardest) step as “eating the frog,” I believe the rewards that follow will be worth the effort you make.

These principles can apply to anyone in any area of life. Certainly those of us with a mental health diagnosis have particular challenges that make doing the hardest thing, or maybe even the next thing, more difficult. I hope you will remember the benefits of “eating the frog,” particularly during those times when you feel you can’t do the simplest of tasks. Remember, too, that Christ’s power—the same mighty power that raised Him from the dead—can give you the strength to take that first step. All you need to do is ask. You don’t have to eat your frog alone.