The Battle Rages

       Although no one was confident enough to leave any comments, the traffic to this blog increased four fold after my most recent post about depression.  I am taking that to mean there is a great interest in the topic, so I will continue posting segments from my unpublished book, Depression, Demons and Discipleship.

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Chapter 1: The Battle Rages

And there was war in heaven.  Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back.  But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven.  The great dragon was hurled down -- that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray.  He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him.... ‘Woe to the earth and the sea, because the devil has gone down to you!  He is filled with fury, because he knows that his time is short.’ .... Then the dragon was enraged at the woman and went to make war against the rest of her offspring -- those who obey God’s commandments and hold to the testimony of Jesus.  (Rev 12:7-9,12,17) 

            We often do not realize the infinite seriousness of the spiritual battle in which we have become involved.  Satan is filled with fury against God and anyone that tries to draw close to God.  One of Satan's major ways of attacking me is through my depression....

     In 1990 I was encouraged to read two books by Frank Peretti which were fictional stories portraying the human battle and the spiritual battle within the same work.  These books impacted my thinking tremendously!  The goal of those advising myself and many others to read these books was for us to get a perspective on the spiritual battle raging around us, beyond the sight of our mortal eyes. That perspective should then motivate us to take more seriously our need to pray.  I definitely got those messages out of the books, but I also gained something else.  As I read, a conviction was born, that my depression is a form of demon attack.  That conviction has only matured with the years.  I would like to share one scene from Piercing the Darkness.

            Sally flopped on the bed.  No, she couldn't think about it.  She was just too tired.  She was frightened,... she couldn't think, she was a hunted animal, and she was just too tired.

            Your hope is lost, worthless creature, said a voice in her head.

            It's only a matter of time; a very short time, said another...

            Now you can see how big we are, and how little you are!

            You are dead, worthless creature!  You are crazy!

            Sally leaped from the bed and grabbed a pen from the table.  She found some stationery in a drawer next to a Gideon Bible.  She would write things down, that was it!  Perhaps her mind wouldn't get scrambled if she put it all down on paper.  She could record her thoughts before they melted away.  She bent over the table, her pen poised over the paper.

            But Despair was wounded, humiliated, indignant, and determined to redeem himself.  He hung on her back like a coal-black leech, sucking out her will, whispering confusion to her mind.  The other three spirits were with him, circling Sally, taunting her, jabbing her with their swords.

            Insanity whipped his sword right through her brain.

            Sally stared at the paper.  Somehow she'd ended up on the floor.  Nothing would come.  What was that thought?  She'd just had it, she was going to write it down, and now it was gone.

            Give it up. Turn yourself in.

            No one will ever believe you.  You're crazy.

            Crazy.  It was a word.  She wrote it down.

            Insanity, cackling his witchy laugh, grabbed her mind between his two hairy palms and dug in his talons.  Death joined in the attack.

            Sally's mind went blank.  The paper began to grow into a white screen that filled her eyes like a fog, a blizzard white-out.  She was floating.  She kept writing:  "My name is Sally Roe...Sally Roe..."

            She could hear voices in the room, taunting her, and could feel sharp claws tugging at her.  They remained invisible, hiding from her, teasing, tormenting.

            Then came Fear.  Sally was overcome with a numbing, paralyzing fear.  She was lost and falling, spinning, tumbling in space.  She couldn't stop.

            She willed to think, to form a word in her mind:  Sally. Sally. Sally.

            Come on write it.  Take the blasted pen in your hand and write it!

            We have you now.  We will never let you go.

            Sally.  She could feel the pen moving.

            The pen raced over the paper in circles, squiggles, jagged lines, crisscrosses.

            It was gibberish.  Nonsense.[1]

            The imagery is intense enough to make your skin crawl.  The sharp talons of a hideous black creature penetrating your mind and soul.  Scrambling your thoughts.  Speaking ideas of despair, worthlessness, and hopelessness into your defenceless soul.  As I first read these stories, the imagery was too close to my reality to ignore. When I go into a depression, it is as if the only voices, the only logic I can hear comes straight from the depths of Hell.  I feel like a totally different person.  I am filled with negativity, hopelessness, despair, self hatred, and an incredible fear and distrust of people -- especially joyful people.  Life itself seems like too great a burden to bear.  There is a filter that prevents anything good from getting in:  encouragement from others, good advice, good news, encouragement from the Scriptures. Even the voice of God’s Spirit within me seems too far away for me to hear.  It feels like God is a zillion miles away and totally out of my reach.  ...

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The description above is the best  I have ever read of what it is like for me when I am depressed. 

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities,

against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the

heavenly realms. (Eph 6:12)

 We are in a spiritual battle and we have to fight in spiritual ways. A depressed person cannot just decide to be happy.  Treat the person you know who is struggling with depression as a wounded soldier, not as one who needs discipline.  They need your compassion, your prayers, and your help.  They need healing, not more wounds from harsh words.  In future postings I will look at what has helped me, in hopes that you or your loved one can also find help.

Please leave a comment or question.  You know the old saying, "If you want to ask a question, do so. There are others who have the same question but are too afraid to ask."

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[1]Frank E. Peretti, Piercing the Darkness, Crossway Books, a division of Good News Publishers, Westchester, Illinois, 1989, pp 51-52.  You can learn more about Frank Peretti and his recent work at his website  http://frankperetti.com/