Tag Archives: depression

What to Pray When You Feel All Alone

Boy, aren’t there times when we feel alone?

Suffering. Depression. Anxiety. Infertility.

Health. Jobs. Kids. Family.

Oppression. Isolation. Addiction.

What if you’re married… and you still feel alone? Even worse – what if you feel like your husband is the enemy?

What to Pray When You Feel Alone

Source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/geekounet/ (changes mine)

Perhaps your husband is abusing you. If so, it’s time to tell someone. Tell your pastor. Tell your friend. Call a counselor. Ask for help. Please.

Maybe your husband is simply passive; you’re not united. You’re always at odds.

Even a vibrant, God-seeking marriage can feel like a lonely island. You talk, but he doesn’t hear. He doesn’t understand, or he’s not seeking to. What then?

After all, if the enemy can take down marriage, he’s taken down one of God’s primary illustrations of Himself.

If you’re single, you still have the same enemy. Loneliness and aloneness still knock.

We know God is there, but it’s hard to feel it. We don’t sense Him. We’re not opening that Bible because we aren’t connected to the vine.

Or we open and it feels like jibberish.

More piercing, we may read and feel anger at the Lord.

When I’m suffering with intense emotions, I can only pray through Scripture itself. I tell God how I’m feeling, but I must must come back to truth. Reciting it reorients my heart and mind, sometimes only with repetition and time.

So if you’re in any of the states I’ve described – or one I’ve obviously missed – here is a Scripture to pray through.

For context, David was hiding from his enemy in a cave when he wrote this.

I cry aloud to the Lord;
    I lift up my voice to the Lord for mercy.
I pour out before him my complaint;
    before him I tell my trouble.

When my spirit grows faint within me,
    it is you who watch over my way.
In the path where I walk
    people have hidden a snare for me.
Look and see, there is no one at my right hand;
    no one is concerned for me.
I have no refuge;
    no one cares for my life.

I cry to you, Lord;
    I say, “You are my refuge,
    my portion in the land of the living.”

Listen to my cry,
    for I am in desperate need;
rescue me from those who pursue me,
    for they are too strong for me.
Set me free from my prison,
    that I may praise your name.
Then the righteous will gather about me
    because of your goodness to me.(Psalm 142, emphasis mine)

The Worst Years

My Worst Years

Source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/jesusabizanda/ (changes mine)

The two years before this one have been the pits. The absolute worst. They haven’t been the worst years of my marriage – those were the seminary years – but they’ve been filled with suffering, pain, depression, and doubt.

The pattern of pain started with postpartum depression after having my second child. It lasted for several months, and while I am fulfilled as a mom, it just left me feeling empty and alone.

Then, on our road to adopting a beautiful 4-year old from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, we found out his birth mom was alive and had taken him home. A mixed blessing filled a hurting heart.

For some reason, my marriage wasn’t so hot by this point. It didn’t worry me, but we needed help. After a marriage counseling intensive, we were able to heal tremendously and move forward.

Then, my mom found out she had breast cancer, and she went through a year of hell to be free of cancer.

It was in the middle of her treatment that I found it I was pregnant with Katherine. Oh boy, did this surprise make me cry out to the Lord in doubt and fear.

He didn’t mind that I yelled at him inside. He patiently listened while I ticked off the reasons I could not have another baby. He assured me that He was giving me a gift, a gift I was afraid to accept.

He intended all of this for His own glory. My story is His story, the story of Him always, always drawing me closer to Himself.

I don’t have a conclusion here, or a poignant point. It’s all been said in His holy word, after all. I’m just laying this out there because it is. It was. It may be again soon. But He doesn’t change. He’s there, holding me close. An unmoving rock of grace and mercy.

When Being a Pastor’s Wife is Hard: Trials

There are times when being a pastor’s wife seems unbearable. Something has happened, whether you’re aware of it or not, and all  of a sudden, you feel like your family, ministry, career, etc. are all crumbling down. And you want to crumble with it.

I’m not going to point fingers in this post because I know that congregations and pastors/pastors’ families alike can bring pain into ministry. We are all sinners, and we will all seek pleasure over God at some point.


{Read this entire post over at Clutch Talk here!}