Confession is Good for the Soul

We all do a lot of pretending.  It's a coping mechanism we all have.  Ever heard the phrase 'fake it, til you make it?' For me it has always been wishful thinking until the rest of me caught up.  And for most things in life, it tends to work. Act confident in social situations and eventually you will be and you don't even notice when you stop faking.  We do it all the time and it isn't lying. It's just believing in the end goal. 

But some things you just can't fake.  Don't get me wrong. Boy, do I still try though.  I don't necessarily keep mine a big secret, but I'm often not real with people either.  I am a Christian,  mother and a preacher's wife.  And I have Major Depressive Disorder.  

I don't really remember a time that I didn't struggle with it.  And in that way, I suppose, I am blessed. There is not a before and after for me.  It just is.  I can reconcile most aspects of my life with the depression. I do feel guilt that I have such a wonderful husband and beautiful healthy children and suffer from depression.    But I think the hardest role to reconcile, is preacher's wife. 

I am so afraid that if people know how much I suffer, they will think I am not good enough. You see, I feel so honored to be in the role I am in. To support my husband as he preaches and teaches God's word. In our minds it isn't just a job. It is THE job.  I am afraid that they will think I am weak. Or the biggest dirty little secret of all, people will think that I am ungrateful and do not love and trust in God enough. 

So I hide. I allude to it at times but for the most part I hide the depression.  I hide that some days it feels like I can't take care of my house let alone myself.  Or that some days I can't feel anything at all. Or that some days I want to quit and give up.

So why post this now? Why confess?  Probably more than anything to prove a point to myself.  Christians are not perfect people, but people made perfect by the blood of Christ. Preacher's and their wives are not more holy, or subject to a higher class of problems. We are real people. I always ask people to be real with me. Then I go on to tell them how God loves them and how we are all an integral part of the Lord's church.  But I hide this, one of my greatest struggles.  I hide an illness. I do not share the truth of my struggles while I ask that others do the very same thing.

I do not write this post as a preacher's wife or even as person with mental illness. I write it as a fellow Christian.  The church is made strong by our love for one another.  I do not wish to just love the Sunday you. The fake it, til you make it persona.  But the real you with all the struggles and blemishes. I want that love too but first I had to take the risk and confess myself.