Who Is Running The Show?

Depression during Christmas is feeling remarkably like someone else is flipping the switches on my life. A catalog of the last week: sad day, sad day, sick child day, good day, good day, can-barely-stay-awake-day, weepy day, good day interrupted by sad Christmas card turns into sad afternoon.

I've had periodic episodes lately of short-term extreme fatigue. I've heard of people whose bodies respond to emotional overload with migraines, virus-susceptibility, or various kinds of skin ailments. I just screech to a halt and have to lie down.

One important strategy for living with depression is to focus on just one day at a time. That's been a little harder for me to do during the holidays because attention is universally focused forward to the 25th. Questions like, "Are you ready for Christmas?" consistently throw me off. I'm not ready for Christmas. I would like to skip Christmas. Some days I can only hunker down to avoid the low-flying airplane of seasonal expectations.

Jesus must know something about focusing on one day at a time. How could he possibly have sustained mental health knowing that his crucifixion lay directly ahead? Maybe someone could preach about that on Friday.