The Pandemic of Despair
We didn’t see it coming. No one did. Somewhere on the other side of the world a new virus was making people very sick, but it was miles from home. Or at least that’s what we thought.
In our home, the Christmas tree was still up. (We hold on to our decorations for as long as we can until one of us cracks and calls time on the festivities.) January was slipping out the door but still I was reluctant to let go of the sparkling lights and my son’s handmade ornaments from when he was a child. Each morning I’d open the back door to let our dogs out and pause at the tree and study them. One of my favorites from fourth grade is of Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus made out of clay that had then been baked in the school’s kiln. The baby was almost as big as Mary. That triggered a few memories.
“We’ll need to take the tree down in February,” I said to Barry one morning. “Once March hits my travel schedule is crazy busy.”
That’s what I thought at least—and then the bottom fell out of the world and everything familiar and comforting changed. People lost their lives, lost family businesses, lost jobs, school doors were closed, and parents suddenly had to become fifth grade math teachers. Our churches were locked and we sat at home binge watching television shows and gaining fifteen pounds. And for some reason that is still not clear to me, toilet paper became our survival tool. The questions piled on.
God, what’s happening?
Do you see us?
Why are you letting this happen?
Will life ever be normal again?
Will we survive this?
When will this be over?
Will our relationships survive this?
Why is everything so out of control.
I don’t know how those weeks and months impacted you and your family. It was uncharted territory. We’d never been in a situation like that before in our lifetime. At first, I honestly enjoyed the break. I’m used to flying out every weekend to speak and I’m in the television studio during the week, so for me to be able to stay in sweats with no make-up was awesome for a while. I guess I thought it would only last a few weeks and then we’d all go back to doing what we’d done before we ever heard of Covid-19. But it dragged on and on and watching the nightly news was heartbreaking. So much pain. So much loss.
As the weeks turned into months, I felt myself spiraling inside. Some mornings I would wake up with such a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. It wouldn’t lift. It made me feel sick and anxious. All the things I’d learned to do since I’d been diagnosed with severe clinical depression years ago weren’t working any more. I didn’t know how to pull myself out of the pit. Some days I just stayed in bed. I would watch our church service online, but I felt a million miles away.
Even though I was home with Barry I felt so alone. Then our son contracted the virus. Christian is in graduate school in Houston and when he Facetimed to tell us the news, I felt so helpless. Everything in me wanted to drive to Houston and nurse him through it but self-isolation rules wouldn’t let me. Honestly I wanted to scream but our fourteen year old Bichon, Tink, hates loud noises so I just cried into my pillow. I was honestly shocked at the level of despair I was feeling.
What do you do when life feels out of control? What do you do when there’s nothing you can do? What do you do when you believe that God is good, that God is in control, but nothing makes sense to you anymore? Those feelings can be overwhelming. One of the things I’ve learned through my depression journey is that when I’m really struggling it helps me to pray for others, so one evening I went onto my Facebook page and simply asked the question, “How are you doing, can I pray for you?” There were hundreds of responses and most of them were heartbreaking.
My husband has lost his job. I don’t know how we’re going to pay our bills next month.
My dad’s in hospital. He’s dying and they won’t let me come and say goodbye.
How am I supposed to homeschool four children and keep my job?
My son committed suicide. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.
My marriage is falling apart, I don’t know what to do.
My children want nothing to with Jesus anymore. I am brokenhearted.
I’m struggling with anxiety.
I feel so lonely.
Some of the issues were related to the 2020 health pandemic but many were simply related to how hard life can be. Some women private messaged me as they said they were ashamed to admit that they were struggling. Let’s be honest, sometimes when we’re overwhelmed, particularly as Christians, we’re tempted to retreat into ourselves. We don’t want anyone else to judge or shame us. We feel bad enough. Sometimes we don’t know how to reach out to others when we’re barely holding on by a thread. What do we even say? How do we give words to the level of despair we’re feeling? As C. S. Lewis wrote, it’s easier to say that our tooth is aching rather than our heart is broken. But I know now in a way I’ve never understood before that when our hearts are broken, we need to be able to say it out loud. If we don’t, we walk alone and sink deeper and deeper into the pit. We need each other, we need to let people into our pain when it is too much to carry alone. That’s how we were created. Even when God placed Adam in the garden with everything that was good, He said it’s not good for man to be alone. Think about that. He had everything. The Garden of Eden was perfection. There was no sin in the world, no pain or fear and God walked and talked with him every evening in the cool of the day. Yet still God said Adam needed someone with flesh and blood.
When Paul wrote to the church in Galatia he said this, “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” Galatians 6:2 (ESV)
The Greek word used here for “burden” (baros) means literally “a heavy weight or stone” someone is required to carry for a long distance. You are I were not designed to carry heavy weights for a long distance by ourselves. When life becomes too much, when everything feels out of control, we need the humility to ask for help, for prayers, to let others know that the weight is too much.
As my own despair grew, it absolutely brought me to my knees. I’ve had a Bible since I was a child. I’ve read it, studied it, memorized it, and taught it but I began to dive in as if my life depended on it because it did. I needed to understand the bigger picture of the story God is writing. Day after day, week after week, I sat out on our balcony with my Bible and a notebook and pencil and I asked the Holy Spirit to help me see what I might miss. And He did. The stories were right there in the pages, story after story of people who loved God but felt as if their lives were out of control.
Story after story of those who were tempted to let go because they couldn’t see any way out. But God was with them.
Not only that, as I studied, I saw Jesus there. He is there from the first chapter of Genesis until the final chapter of Revelation.
It’s always been about Jesus.
There has always been a plan.
He has always been writing our story.
Excerpt from Holding On When You Want to Let Go: Clinging to Hope When Life Is Falling Apart by Sheila Walsh. © 2021 by Sheila Walsh. Used by permission of Baker Books, a division of Baker Publishing Group.
is a Bible teacher and bestselling author with more than six million books sold. She is cohost of the television program “Life Today” airing in the U.S., Canada, Europe, and Australia, with almost one billion potential viewers daily. Calling Texas home, Sheila lives in Dallas with her husband, Barry; her son, Christian; and two little dogs, Tink and Maggie, who rule the roost. Her latest book, Holding On When You Want to Let Go, is available now.
Photograph © Ava Sol, used with permission
