Close Your Mouth, and Just Listen

Nicholas L. Laning

I am saying this as much to myself as I am to anyone else.  That is not a rhetorical concession, something said to soften what is going to be condescending.  I mean it.  Someone starts talking to me about their problems, and I usually have to reiterate this to myself over and over.   

Nicholas, just shut up.  Stop it.  No.  Maybe there is truth in that thought you want to throw out there, but that's not the point.  Later.  First, listen, and not just with your ears.  Look at their eyes, Nicholas, and see their soul.  Open your heart to who they are, and shut up. 

On it goes, again and again.  To be honest, there are but a handful of people in the world that captivate me, that hold my attention without effort on my part.  I pray daily that the Holy Spirit would change my heart, that more and more people would captivate me, that I could be someone who genuinely loves others, has affection for them.  It is a work in progress.

When I was in the middle of the Abyss, my mother is the person I most went to.  There were a few friends I would share with (Christina (Brandon) Stock, Christine (Hand) Jones , Sarah (Perry) Hardie, to name a few).  Still, more often than not, I went to my mom.  (I will talk about how men and women responded to my depression later)  For the first several years of depression, it was rough.  I would go to her only when I had to, because when I told her, she would just freak out, and make me feel worse.  She would weep at my pain, and then she would try to fix it.  I came to her less and less, and felt more alone, which is exactly what the enemy wants.

Finally, somewhere in the middle of my time in the Abyss, I finally just told my mom that I needed her to stop, and just listen.  It was hard at first.  She felt justified in feeling sad, in weeping, and you know what?  She was, but not to me.  For me, she needed to just listen.  She could cry later to someone who was strong enough to handle it.  Sorrow has a chain.  It goes up, not down.  You don't lay your burdens upon the weary.  You seek the strong, the resolute.  Then when it is their turn to weep, and you are strong, you can return the favor.  It is now my turn to shut my mouth and listen, to be strong for others.

This post is for those of you on the outside trying your dead level best to love someone who is depressed.  Hear this.  More often than not (though surely not always), what is needed is simply for you to listen, and not just with your ears.  I know what I am asking.  No, I don't want you to join in their depression.  What I am saying is that everyone needs to know that someone out their cares.  You don't have to feel their pain to be effective.  Listening is huge.  Yes, they will say crazy stuff.  Unless they say something suicidal (in which case you rebuke them swiftly, as there is no room for such talk to fester), then let them rant.  Once finished, if they seem up to it, calmly tell them it is going to be okay, whether you feel that to be true or not.  You are stronger than they are, so tough.  You can be the difference maker.  God has used less to do more, just read the Bible. 

Depression Starts With A Lie

Stanton Martin is a recent graduate from Belhaven University; he's spent the last year working the typical 8 to 5 office job, writes regularly over at his blog, and has spent the last 12 years of his life wrestling with depression. Parts of the following post were inspired by Donald Miller's book, To Own A Dragon. 

Where does depression hurt?

Whenever I hear that commercial I laugh. I laugh at most things, it’s one of the ways I cope with how profoundly sad life seems to me at times. Where does depression hurt? If only there was a concrete answer to that question.

I will soon be twenty-five years old, and I have struggled with depression since the age of twelve. That is a crazy statement to type. I can’t believe I have struggled with depression for over half of my life.

My carefree days of innocence are now outnumbered by periods of time marked with overwhelming feelings of loneliness, darkness, and despair.

My depression was fed by my own insecurity. It was always waiting in the wings, anticipating my next failure, and seeking any circumstance to sink its roots further into my psyche. Depression, for me, was an almost audible voice that told me lies.

Depression told me I was stupid when I didn’t make A’s on all of my exams.

Depression told me that I was unlovable when my friends excluded me.

Depression told me that I wasn’t Christian enough when surrounded by other Christians.

Depression told me that everyone left me because I wasn’t enough, and that no matter how hard I tried, I would never equate to anything of consequence. I would be alone for the rest of my life.

I bought these lies every single day of my life. Every failure (even ones only perceived by myself) was hugely personal. It was further proof that all of the lies were in fact true. It wasn’t long before my insecurities and depression became self-fulfilling. I pushed people away as I struggled through my trust issues, and desperately grappled for any sense of self-identity based outside of what people wanted from me.

While I have only experienced prolonged periods of depression three times in my life, once in high school, and twice in college, it was a battle I had fought every day since childhood. Depression was a multi-headed monster for me, and every time I cut off one head, another sprouted back. It wasn’t until my senior year of college that I finally got a firm grasp on one of the causes of my depression.

You see, when a child grows up feeling he is a burden to the people around him, he is going to grow to 

believe and live as though the world does not want him. That’s how the lies first grabbed hold of me.

Even when I could believe that there was nothing wrong with me— that there was a problem with the message that had been to sent me— that knowledge didn’t make me feel any less insecure.

There have been times when I have watched the interactions of my friends and their fathers and mothers, and I have been jealous. I’m not saying that I was jealous of my friends. Jealous probably is not even the right word. It was so evident to me that my friends’ moms and dads had taught them that they mattered. The idea that I mattered had not been instilled in me the way my friends’ moms and dads had instilled it in them. My friends never had to learn that they mattered, or at least they never had to wade through the ocean of lies like I had.

I was in a complete free-fall by the spring semester of my senior year. I was a shadow of my former self, and I had given myself over completely to the lies of depression. I woke up every morning panicked and shaking. I was terrified of graduating; of being alone. I hated that I needed the love of others, and I hated those same people for not loving me. I was worthless. I had nothing to offer. Everyone I had ever cared about had used me. I hated myself. I hated my life. I hated God for giving me such a burden.

I was operating out of feelings of inferiority. Deep inside, at my very core, I had a sincere belief that life was for other people— that joy was for others, and responsibility was for others, and so on, and so on. In life, there were people who were meant to live and people who were accidentally born, cursed to plod the globe as the despised. I was the latter.

I acted out toward my friends and family. I drank far too much, and said horrible things to people that I cared about. I manipulated, I lied, and I gave my heart over to anger and hatred. I was too proud to admit any of this though, and I wrapped all of my sin in a shroud of goodness. I continued to serve my friends, but with a heart of jealousy and resentment.

I didn’t think I was going to be able make it. There were days that I wanted to give up. I began to buy the lie that not only was everything screwed up, but that it would never get any better. It would never change. I would always be miserable. I would always be unloved. That is a dangerous lie.

A breaking point came, and I knew that things could only end in one of two ways: I would get better or… things would truly end.

There came a point when I realized I could continue to buy the lies I had been buying my entire life, I could continue to live as a victim, and I could let life pass me by, or, I could explore the truth.

The truth is that I have a profound need for a savior and a heavenly father.

I had built my identity on the ever-changing soil of other’s opinions of me. I had spent years cobbling it all together and trying to keep it from collapsing. My self-worth, my faith; my very existence had all been hanging by a thread for years. I needed a foundation. In order for anything of substance to be built, everything else had to be destroyed. God knew that.

It’s strange, but the foundation I needed to build upon was the realization of my need for a Father. I realized that I had taken the messages I had received from my father, and I had transferred them into my relationship with God, and I made my heavenly father just as absent from my life as my earthly father.

I had taken all of the brokenness from my relationship with my dad, and I said, “God, you’re no different”.  I hadn’t been able to experience God’s love because of my broken relationship with my dad. I hadn’t trusted that God cared about me, or wanted what is best for me, or that He had me where I was for a reason.

I stopped viewing myself as a victim, and I started looking at my life through a new set of lenses. I was able to see things clearly for the first time in my life. I was able to see people as individuals rather than an archetype.

My campus minister wasn’t my father. My favorite professor wasn’t my father. My boss wasn’t my father. My best friend wasn’t my father. That meant that these guys were not responsible to love me unconditionally, and they weren’t responsible to tell me I am a man. All of the love or affirmation they gave was a gift, but holding them responsible for the wounds that my father inflicted was inappropriate.

As it turns out, God is not like our fathers, our mothers, our youth ministers, our mentors, or our best friends; He does not leave because He is tired of putting up with our crap. He doesn’t drift out of our lives because He found something better to do with his time. It is us that He cares about; we are the ones that walked away from Him.

Once I realized I possessed a need for both a heavenly and earthly father, I was able to begin the process of mending both of those relationships. I began to believe new things for myself. I read Jeremiah 29:11 which states, “For I know the plans that I have made for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” For the first time in my life I believed that life was meant for me. I could see God’s hand in all of my pain, and I could see the path he had chosen for me that year.

A path that led to the understanding that I do not have to be ‘good enough’ for anyone, not for my parents, not for my friends, and certainly not for God. A path that led to the understanding that Christ died not only for who I was, but who I am, and who I will be. I understood God’s love for me in new and exciting ways, and I built my security around His affections for me, rather than on those of the people around me.

I understood that God had written a beautiful story of redemption just for me, and that it was my own. There was no use in comparing it to others, because that was their story, and while it was right for them, it was not for me. God may have chosen to make depression part of my story, but that doesn’t make my story somehow sadder than others, in fact, I have a greater hope and even excitement to see how God uses that part of my story to shape my life and impact others.

Over the last year and a half I have been asked several times by friends whether or not I regret any of that year, and if so, what would I have changed about it. I tell them that I do not regret any part of that year, no matter how hard it was for me; no matter how close to destruction I came, because the Lord was with me, and though I could not see it at the time, He was preparing a path of healing for me.

It has been over fourteen months now since God rescued me from the abyss, and by His grace I have not experienced a state of depression in all of that time. The old wounds are still present, but they are healing. That voice still whispers lies to me in moments of rejection and doubt, but now I know the truth, and I cling to it with abandon.

I know that one day I will probably struggle with depression again, but I am thankful to my Savior for giving me a new hope and a new foundation on which to battle it.

Depression takes on many forms, and can manifest for many different reasons, but if my story is similar to your own, I hope that you will find some sort of encouragement by it. Feel free to contact me at info@stantonmartin.com if you have any questions or comments. 

Love (Or the Lack Thereof) & Depression

The Shipps by Nicholas L. Laning

1 Corinthians 13 (English Standard Version)

1 If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 

2 And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.  

3 If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.  

4 Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant  

5 or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;  

6 it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.  

7 Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  

8 Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it     will pass away.  

9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part,  

10 but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.  

11 When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways.  

12 For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.  

13 So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

Nicholas L. Laning

 "Love is a decision."  I cannot count the times I have heard this adage, a half thought out response, wrought from fear of losing a battle against the constant bombardment from movies, television, and music that, "Love is a feeling."  As with most fearfully wrought responses, the pendulum is not swung to find balance.  It is swung fully and completely, never bothering to ask if swinging completely in the opposite direction is any better? There is a decisive, devotional quality to love, and there is also a mysterious, emotional quality to love.  

To say that only one of those qualities of love is like being asked what an apple looks like, and responding, "Apples are round."  Okay, are they not also red, (or yellow or green, depending on the apple)?  Picking one quality to define the whole leads to a warped vision of the truth.  

Another analogy would be to say that a hand is a human.  No, the hand is a PART of the human body.  Without it, the body is not whole.  Yet, you cannot define the whole of the body by one part and come out with a real vision of the human body. 


The words found in the text above were not understood until my depression.  It is easy to say, "Love is a decision," in an attempt cut out or dampen the emotive qualities of love when you feel those emotions freely and easily.  When your struggle is to control your emotions, reign them in, it seems beneficial to grasp for the opposite, perhaps hoping to reach the middle, as it cannot be imagined to not emote.  


WELL YOU CAN!  Your ability to emote is not inevitable.  It can be stripped from you, and then you will see just how ridiculous the idea of love being solely a decision really is.  Without the emotions, without genuine affection, there is no reason to decide to love in the first place.  


This verse above completely blows up the notion of love being a decision.  If we were to look at the text before this one, we would see Paul talking about the different gifts, and their importance, then he says in 12:31 "But earnestly desire the higher gifts. And I will show you a still more excellent way."  Then he starts above.  Love is essential, and it is not just a decision.   

If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.

To give all you have away, or to deliver your body up to be burned both take the utmost devotion!  Do they not?  Think about how intense those acts are!  Then Paul tells us that we can do those amazing things, and if we have not love, that we gain nothing!  In that one sentence alone we see that the love he is talking about goes beyond mere devotion.  

This scares me too.  It also gets me excited!  

It scares me because I cannot simply do love.  I cannot simply obey commands and think that enough to be considered loving God, loving others.  My heart must affect.  It must flourish.  Nothing else will do.  I am going to be honest, and say that depression has left me scarred subconsciously.  It has been a battle to encourage my battered and tattered heart to ever be open to feeling ever again, for one cannot hurt if one does not love.  My affection for God and for others is lacking.  This has been the greatest target of my prayers, that the Holy Spirit would do what only He can... soften my stone of a heart.   


It gets me excited because, after seeing the truth, I don't want love to just be a decision!  I understand the devotional quality full well.  When there was not a mote of affection in my heart for anything, not my parents, wife, nature, my self, nor life, I decided to go on loving those I remember loving.  I devoted myself to a God my heart screamed had abandoned me.  Without devotion, my love would have been lost.  Yet, it was not full at all!  I now want my heart to soar again!  I want it to burn!  I want it to flourish in the beauty of God's creation!  I want it full!  I want to love others, yearning to serve them, encourage them!  I want my heart to again beat red and tender within my chest, and that is exactly what God wants!  He wants, no, commands my affection!  He tells us we are to soar!  Our hearts were made for beating!  


So, let us no longer be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal!  Let us have faith, hope, and of course... love!

Boredom and Depression.

Nicholas L. Laning

Boredom is defined as: the state of feeling bored.  Thanks for that awesome definition.  Okay, so the definition of bored is: feeling weary because one is unoccupied or lacks interest in one's current activity.  That seems pretty accurate, don’t you think?  I was listening to a special about boredom on public radio as I was driving home, (Yes, I realize that is nerdy beyond nerdy) and the specialist being interviewed talked about how wide the definition for boredom can get.  One question I found interesting is, does it hurt?  I’ll answer that later for myself.

This is an aspect of depression rarely talked about, which is amazing, because it is one of the largest thorns in depression.  We talk about the apathy a lot.  Apathy this.  Apathy that.  Well, aren’t apathy and boredom linked?  They are so linked that some people may very well think them equivalent, or at least close.  We are apathetic usually because we are bored.  The things that are meant to stir no longer do, and therefore we are left with… apathy: a lack of interest, enthusiasm, or concern.  You read that definition, then the one for boredom, and you can’t help but see that the two can be connected. 

I say can, instead of will, because most often, boredom is wrought from wanting something, and being told you can’t have it.  For example, a student is filled with dreams and desires to play with his/her friends outside in the sun, but is instead forced to spend the vast majority of the day in a dingy classroom learning about the Industrial Revolution or the Pythagorean theorem.  It is the deprivation of that desire that hurts.

In a way, this is the same with those whom are depressed.  It is the deprivation, but not from the desired object.  No, it is taken back a step further.  It is the deprivation of desire itself.  It is but the mere memory of desire that remains. 

There are only two “desires” that are accessible at all times, and they are not true desires, in that they do not spark passion or pleasure in the end.  They are the wants, the wishes of depression rather.  One is for the ceasing of the pain.  The other “desire”, is for the ability to desire to return. 

I know that that sounds like an oxymoron, but it is not.  It is a paradox, for sure, but not an oxymoron.  I spent years in depression begging God to restore my ability to simply want.  I would beg and beg and beg thousands of times over for restoration in my heart, that I might one day feel again. 

For those of you on the outside, you may be wondering, “What am I to take away from this?”  You should take away a greater understanding of what your loved one is going through.  I know it is difficult, but you should try your best to imagine what having no desires would feel like, if but for a moment.  You may be struggling to believe it even possible.   I understand, though I don’t know this for sure, my inclination, when I hear people refusing to believe the testimonies of a hundred million people in the world today, is to believe that the reason you don’t believe it, is because it scares the crap out of you.  It is so mysterious, and can strike anyone, that it is too terrible to believe until forced to.

Well, if you have someone in your life whom is struggling with depression, then you are being forced.  You can be a coward, and continue to let fear push you away from your loved one, and the truth, or you can be someone special, be a difference maker in your loved one’s life.  You can, quite literally in many cases, be the difference between suicide and survival. 

For those of you whom are depressed, I hope you come away knowing that you are not alone, and that others have fought and won the battle against the very same beast you are battling.  There is hope.  You can get better.  You are never too far gone.  I would know, as I reached the end, lived there for ten years, and am now redeemed.  So you can also.

God's Sovereignty and Pain

Romans 8:28-39

28 And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. 

29 For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.  

30 And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.

31 What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?

32 He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? 

33 Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies.  

34 Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died--more than that, who was raised--who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us.  

35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?  

36 As it is written, "For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered."  

37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.  

38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers,  

39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Nicholas L. Laning

 LAST night at church, Matt Chandler gave one of the best sermons on predestination I have ever heard.  I am not going to get into the ins and outs of that sermon on the whole.  If you want to hear the sermon, then you can go to this link http://www.thevillagechurch.net/resources/sermons/, and listen to it when it is put up later today or tomorrow.  I highly recommend it.  

What I am here to talk about is how, as I was listening to the sermon, I just kept asking myself, "How did I ever question this?  How could I have ever thought that God's goodness and pain were incompatible?  It is right here.  How could I have let my anger toward Him go so far?  It was right there the whole time for me to see."  


There are many verses on predestination, but this one is the most definitive, the most frequented, or, the most hated, depending on where you are at in your heart.  Regardless, here we see God flat out saying that our salvation, justification, and glorification are all because of Him.  Then we have verse 35, "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?"  

In one paragraph we have God telling us through Paul's letter that we are saved by His calling and sovereignty, not by anything we did.  We then have Him tell us it is because of His deep love.  He loved us before we even were.  We have Him saying that if we are His, then nothing can be against us.  Then comes the kicker, he lists all the above trials: tribulation. distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, or sword!  He flat out tells us that those things exist, and will be present in some form in our lives.  


I say that I wonder how we would doubt God because of His allowance of tribulation, but I know the answer, as it lies within my own heart.  I struggle to not think that it is all about me.  I say with my lips that I am not God, just as Matt said we do, but I live like I am.  The greatest turn around in my depression came when it was revealed to me just how much it isn't about me.  I was swallowed up in pain, and so much of it lifted instantly, as I recognized that I was not good, that it isn't about me, and that I had no place to shake my fist at God, and neither do you, no matter what you think.


Just read the book, it is all there.  God is sovereign, and He loves you, and He has allowed pain to exist.  If you doubt that could be possible, I challenge you to answer this question... why?  I think you will find the answer is, at its core, simply, "because I don't like it.  It offends me.  It isn't what I would do."  While this appeals to your emotions, there is certainly nothing logical about it by any stretch.  It is as logical as thinking that because you don't like gravity, because you have this intense longing to fly, that gravity cannot exist.  Certainly not.  Like it or not, the truth is not always in line with what you want at any given moment.  I would dare say that it most often is not, at least for now.  For those who are called according to His purpose, all things are used for their good, even depression!