I didn’t expect this.
Not the job, not the apartment, not the friendships, not the church.
I didn’t expect the crippling depression that runs hand-in-hand with my growing faith. I didn’t expect to spend my nights crying out to God, desperate to feel His love in the midst of frigid isolation.
But when you’ve been a Christian for two decades and run in circles that emphasize the Holy Spirit, your priorities get out of whack. Well, maybe I should say my priorities got out of whack.
In the last six months, I’ve discovered just how fragile — and paradoxically, deep — my faith has become. It’s in this journey that I’m writing to you.
When God gives you a gift, He expects you to pass it along. It’s doubtful most people think a major depressive disorder is a gift, but I’m learning that the emotions driving me can crack the most hardened of hearts because of empathy.
As I grow closer to God, learn to follow Jesus and trust in the Holy Spirit to guide me, I’m learning that I don’t need a shatter-proof faith. Rather, the holes I’m seeking to fill are precisely what strengthen me in Him.
In Justice I Am, I want to share with you my journey — the hysterical, the ugly, the painful, the redemptive — as I walk with my friends and community.
I want you to see the perspective of someone who has followed God her whole life and still has no idea what tomorrow will hold.
I want you to experience doubts in the faith that make you cling to Christ for answers.
And also, I want your prayers. I want you to pour your heart out to God on my behalf, and I’ll do the same for you.
I didn’t expect to be where I am, and no pat Christian answer will satisfy the longings of what my adventure still holds.
But if you’re on the ledge like I so often feel like I am, take my hand and we’ll walk these next steps together.