Diana Gruver - Companions in the Darkness: Seven Saints Who Struggled with Depression and Doubt

Y ou are not alone. These are the words that echoed in my being as I read Dianas Companions in the Darkness.

As a seminary student and young pastor in the mid-1990s, I learned about many heroes of the faith. I dont remember hearing much about melancholy, discouragement, or depression though.

It wasnt until I sunk into my own abyss that I discovered my own need for companionship. I went searching for stories, but I didnt see a work quite like thisone written by a storyteller familiar with the abyss herself and a student of the untold history of our so-called heroes.

We live in a world that bombards us with images of success, perfection, achievement, relevance, and power. Sadly, the contemporary church is often not very different. Ive found myself, both as pastor and as a parishioner, walking around a church asking, Is there anyone like me here? Anyone who knows the darkest night?

Ive also mentored and counseled pastors over the yearsgood, hard-working folks who believed that to be a good pastor, theyd have to keep it together at all timeswho are stuffing hard emotions, hiding profound pain. Tragically, Ive encountered broken marriages, moral failure, and even suicide among those trying to stay strong, to get through, to never let them see you sweat. The cost of stuffing pain is much greater than navigating the wilderness road to freedom.

Diana is a wise guide for those of us longing for a map for the journey and a companion for those of us longing for grace on the journey. She knows the terrain, and shes studied the women and men behind the classic works of theology and spirituality we cherish so dearly.

Diana writes, We need people who can hold us up during our struggles with depression. We need people who can shout back to us from further ahead. Depression is a fierce enemy, they say, but it need not be your victor. It need not have the last say. Your usefulness is not over. Your God has not left you. The water is deepbut the bottom is good.

Who are the people who can hold us up? Martin Luther and Mother Teresa, Charles Spurgeon and Martin Luther King Jr., among other saints and sages who called us to the heights but intimately knew the depths of depression. And while Diana does not pretend to be a psychologist, she offers wisdom that is psychologically sound while at the same time theologically rich and historically insightful.

Finally, Diana offers profound and compelling stories, but she does not leave us there. She calls us to meet others in the midst of their stories. She calls us to become bearers of the shared burden. She writes, You, too, can be a guide for others through the dark, a companion in the deepest night.

Im a better guide for reading and savoring this. You will be too.

I did not have a word for it until my senior year of college. Looking back, I can see it started before then, in cycles and seasons when I described myself as down, in a funk, struggling, low. My friend talked me into seeing a counselor at our colleges health center, and there I was given the word: depression.

It felt foreign at first, as if this couldnt be me, couldnt be this thing I was feeling. But it had been so long since I felt emotionally steady, emotionally up, that I didnt remember what normal felt like anymore. I no longer had the energy to wrestle with the thoughts in my head. I was stuck in a fogconfused, overwhelmed, suffocated.

For brief moments it lifted enough for me to sip the fresh airto realize just how much clearer and easier life was without its presence. On the days it lingered, I cried myself to sleep, my body curled into a tight, self-protective ball, begging God to hear me, to make me okay.

As time went on, I wondered whether he did hear me. My tears dried up and feelings left me. When the numbness came, I lay awake, exhausted but unable to rest, desperate for those tears to return, because then I would know I was still alive, not a shell of a human being. I longed to disappear, to drift off into never-ending sleep. I longed for it all to go away.

Throughout this season, I felt weak, as if I ought to be able to fight the encroaching and all-encompassing darkness. I felt ashamed, as if I was doing something wrong. Most of all, I felt afraid, as depression tightened its grip on my sanity. Afraid of the thoughts gnawing at my mind. Afraid of how much deeper I might plunge into the pit. Afraid of my desire to cease to exist.

I survived. With the help of therapy, medication, a good support system, and Gods grace, the light slowly dawned. Life gradually became easier, the days less daunting. My mind could focus and process once again. I could turn loving attention on other people. Sleep was no longer elusive. The sensation of joy once again took up residence in my heart.