I really love this poem!! I need to write more of them. When I was depressed as a teenager I wrote tons of poetry! It can help your nervous system to regulate!🙏🤗💕
OOO I did not know it can help your nervous system regulate, but that would make sense. YES, write more, you are so good at it Ruth! Love you honey! -Ashley
Ashley...I have returned to this several times because I hear something beneath the depression that I do not want to name too quickly.
These lines stayed with me:
No comment, just know
Some of the most bright eyed
Stumble, coil, and hide
as they lay on their side
I wonder whether one of the deepest difficulties of the Secret Place is that the bright-eyed self cannot always come with us. The self who knows how to encourage, remain strong, offer hope, and appear luminous eventually runs out of strength.
And when a mask has been worn long enough, removing it no longer feels like taking something off. It can feel like tearing away part of our skin.
Perhaps that is one of the deaths hidden within Jesus’ invitation to take up the cross...not the destruction of who we are, but the surrender of the self we constructed to remain protected, useful, and acceptable.
The depression itself is not sacred, nor do I believe God requires it. But entering the Secret Place without the mask...without eloquent prayer or brightness, sometimes with nothing but the name of Jesus...can feel like death because the self we have known does not know how to live there.
And perhaps God is not discovering us in that moment. He has always known the person beneath the mask. We are slowly consenting to what God already knows.
As I sit reading this and writing my response, it is my fifty-first birthday. I have known much of the darkness you describe for most of my life. So I offer this only as something I have come to see through decades of wrestling and surrender...not as a cure, an explanation for your experience, or something you should do.
I am also grateful you included reaching toward another person. This dying and becoming were never meant to happen alone. Sometimes Jesus meets us through the Psalm we can barely speak...and sometimes through the person who helps us remember that the self beneath the brightness is still seen, still known, and still belongs.
Thank you for trusting us enough to let us see behind the bright eyes, Ashley. There is something sacred in coming before God—and one another—without requiring ourselves to become luminous first.
Ahhh thank you for these heartfelt words. First off, happy happy birthday. Yes, the bright eyed cannot always come. I think the hardest part of the "bright eyed" turning dim . . . for me . . . is not sharing that with the Lord (I got that one down) but it is sharing it with people, in the moment. I can share about the dark days after they happen . . . but in the midst of them, very difficult. Maybe its pride, maybe its protection (as you stated), maybe its a form of fear, maybe its the other things you mentioned too... or it's all of the above plus more. What I do know, is I just don't want people to feel alone in it.
This is so good... "And perhaps God is not discovering us in that moment. He has always known the person beneath the mask. We are slowly consenting to what God already knows." Ahhhh what freedom. Thank you. HE ALREADY KNOWS. Misty Edwards has a song and some of the lyrics go like this, she is singing from the Father's perspective... "I knew what I was getting into . . . . (referring to us)" She also says in a round about way (from the Father's perspective), "you are surprised on what you did, but I am not surprised." That song just reminds me of what you just said!
Thanks again for your encouragement, wisdom, and validation. Thank you for sharing the extra steps that you have taken, with me, to kindly show me some things I may not see or know. I appreciate you! -Ashley
Ashley...thank you for the birthday wishes and for receiving my words so openly.
What you said about being able to share the darkness afterward, but not while you are still inside it, feels important. I would not name that too quickly as pride. Sometimes protection develops because being seen in real time has not always felt safe. Telling the story afterward allows us to understand it, shape it, and remain in control of what others can do with it.
Perhaps the next movement is not public vulnerability in the middle of every dark day. You do not owe everyone immediate access to your pain. Communion may begin much more quietly...with one trustworthy person allowed into the present tense:
I am not telling you what happened. I am telling you where I am.
And I love the Misty Edwards lyric. “I knew what I was getting into” carries such freedom. Our discoveries about ourselves are never discoveries to God. We may be shocked, disappointed, or frightened by what emerges when the brightness dims, but he is not reconsidering his love.
Your desire that no one else feel alone is already evident in this piece. Thank you for allowing your own darkness to become a place where others may recognize that they still belong. I appreciate you too, Ashley.
Ahhh thank you "The Dead Servant." Thank you for taking the time and reading this. I am not sure if the "hitting home" has to deal with you personally at times feeling how I have felt (feel), but if so, I am looking at your with the uttermost soft eyes. Validating eyes. Just the little bit that I have gotten to know you out here on substack, I know you are legit. I know you love Jesus so very much. You are also a great writer, disciple, and encourager. God is using you! He is really using you. You, "The Dead Servant," are the real deal. Your sister, Ash
Thank you my sister we are all on the same journey under one Father. I am learning and growing like everyone daily. Indeed you are to kind and your words have warmed my heart. Continue to be a cool breeze to all who the Lord brings your way! I know you are a tree that many will find shade and rest on Substack. I am a recipient of your kindness. Blessings keep on writing 🔥🙏💚
Oh my gosh, The Dead Servant, THANK YOU. Gosh. Thank you. I always appreciate your words. PLEASE send me your articles you want me to read, okay!? I do not get notifications anymore, so send them to me!
I know you mentioned your emails are blowing up. I will post the link. Thank you for reading my stuff and responding. Thank you for your blessings I receive it in Jesus' name. Thank you 🔥🙏💚
Hi Faith! Ahhh thank you for your validation. My heart goes out that, "you understand." You know though, something so special happens in the pain, right? Such closeness with the Lord brews and manifests in the dark . . . and the empathy that it gives us for others, is remarkable. Sending love to you Faith! -Ashley
People who haven’t experienced anxiety or depression can never really understand what goes on in your mind. I’m so thankful for My Lord who has been with me every step of the way. I don’t know how people get through a sleepless night without Him. He is my rescuer.
Thank you for this, Ashley. Mental health issues are not discussed enough in Christian settings, in my opinion. But in all fairness—mental health professionals do not take faith issues into consideration, either. The two go hand in hand.
I really love this poem!! I need to write more of them. When I was depressed as a teenager I wrote tons of poetry! It can help your nervous system to regulate!🙏🤗💕
OOO I did not know it can help your nervous system regulate, but that would make sense. YES, write more, you are so good at it Ruth! Love you honey! -Ashley
This is so wildly encouraging and I relate, sis.
Thank you so much Jennifer for your support and love. I appreciate you so very much!
Ashley...I have returned to this several times because I hear something beneath the depression that I do not want to name too quickly.
These lines stayed with me:
No comment, just know
Some of the most bright eyed
Stumble, coil, and hide
as they lay on their side
I wonder whether one of the deepest difficulties of the Secret Place is that the bright-eyed self cannot always come with us. The self who knows how to encourage, remain strong, offer hope, and appear luminous eventually runs out of strength.
And when a mask has been worn long enough, removing it no longer feels like taking something off. It can feel like tearing away part of our skin.
Perhaps that is one of the deaths hidden within Jesus’ invitation to take up the cross...not the destruction of who we are, but the surrender of the self we constructed to remain protected, useful, and acceptable.
The depression itself is not sacred, nor do I believe God requires it. But entering the Secret Place without the mask...without eloquent prayer or brightness, sometimes with nothing but the name of Jesus...can feel like death because the self we have known does not know how to live there.
And perhaps God is not discovering us in that moment. He has always known the person beneath the mask. We are slowly consenting to what God already knows.
As I sit reading this and writing my response, it is my fifty-first birthday. I have known much of the darkness you describe for most of my life. So I offer this only as something I have come to see through decades of wrestling and surrender...not as a cure, an explanation for your experience, or something you should do.
I am also grateful you included reaching toward another person. This dying and becoming were never meant to happen alone. Sometimes Jesus meets us through the Psalm we can barely speak...and sometimes through the person who helps us remember that the self beneath the brightness is still seen, still known, and still belongs.
Thank you for trusting us enough to let us see behind the bright eyes, Ashley. There is something sacred in coming before God—and one another—without requiring ourselves to become luminous first.
Ahhh thank you for these heartfelt words. First off, happy happy birthday. Yes, the bright eyed cannot always come. I think the hardest part of the "bright eyed" turning dim . . . for me . . . is not sharing that with the Lord (I got that one down) but it is sharing it with people, in the moment. I can share about the dark days after they happen . . . but in the midst of them, very difficult. Maybe its pride, maybe its protection (as you stated), maybe its a form of fear, maybe its the other things you mentioned too... or it's all of the above plus more. What I do know, is I just don't want people to feel alone in it.
This is so good... "And perhaps God is not discovering us in that moment. He has always known the person beneath the mask. We are slowly consenting to what God already knows." Ahhhh what freedom. Thank you. HE ALREADY KNOWS. Misty Edwards has a song and some of the lyrics go like this, she is singing from the Father's perspective... "I knew what I was getting into . . . . (referring to us)" She also says in a round about way (from the Father's perspective), "you are surprised on what you did, but I am not surprised." That song just reminds me of what you just said!
Thanks again for your encouragement, wisdom, and validation. Thank you for sharing the extra steps that you have taken, with me, to kindly show me some things I may not see or know. I appreciate you! -Ashley
Ashley...thank you for the birthday wishes and for receiving my words so openly.
What you said about being able to share the darkness afterward, but not while you are still inside it, feels important. I would not name that too quickly as pride. Sometimes protection develops because being seen in real time has not always felt safe. Telling the story afterward allows us to understand it, shape it, and remain in control of what others can do with it.
Perhaps the next movement is not public vulnerability in the middle of every dark day. You do not owe everyone immediate access to your pain. Communion may begin much more quietly...with one trustworthy person allowed into the present tense:
I am not telling you what happened. I am telling you where I am.
And I love the Misty Edwards lyric. “I knew what I was getting into” carries such freedom. Our discoveries about ourselves are never discoveries to God. We may be shocked, disappointed, or frightened by what emerges when the brightness dims, but he is not reconsidering his love.
Your desire that no one else feel alone is already evident in this piece. Thank you for allowing your own darkness to become a place where others may recognize that they still belong. I appreciate you too, Ashley.
Thanks Kevin. I appreciate your words and care. They mean a lot. -Ashley
Wow! This was beautiful, all of it!! Thank you
Ahhh thank you Diane!
Beautifully written and really hits home. Thank you Ashley.
Ahhh thank you "The Dead Servant." Thank you for taking the time and reading this. I am not sure if the "hitting home" has to deal with you personally at times feeling how I have felt (feel), but if so, I am looking at your with the uttermost soft eyes. Validating eyes. Just the little bit that I have gotten to know you out here on substack, I know you are legit. I know you love Jesus so very much. You are also a great writer, disciple, and encourager. God is using you! He is really using you. You, "The Dead Servant," are the real deal. Your sister, Ash
Thank you my sister we are all on the same journey under one Father. I am learning and growing like everyone daily. Indeed you are to kind and your words have warmed my heart. Continue to be a cool breeze to all who the Lord brings your way! I know you are a tree that many will find shade and rest on Substack. I am a recipient of your kindness. Blessings keep on writing 🔥🙏💚
Oh my gosh, The Dead Servant, THANK YOU. Gosh. Thank you. I always appreciate your words. PLEASE send me your articles you want me to read, okay!? I do not get notifications anymore, so send them to me!
I know you mentioned your emails are blowing up. I will post the link. Thank you for reading my stuff and responding. Thank you for your blessings I receive it in Jesus' name. Thank you 🔥🙏💚
https://substack.com/@thedeadservant/note/c-305256130?r=8aj5h8&utm_medium=ios&utm_source=notes-share-action
i love this so much ash! thank you. this is the best thing i’ve read all day!
Ahhhh thank you my new friend!!! I appreciate this!
I understand completely. 🥰
Hi Faith! Ahhh thank you for your validation. My heart goes out that, "you understand." You know though, something so special happens in the pain, right? Such closeness with the Lord brews and manifests in the dark . . . and the empathy that it gives us for others, is remarkable. Sending love to you Faith! -Ashley
People who haven’t experienced anxiety or depression can never really understand what goes on in your mind. I’m so thankful for My Lord who has been with me every step of the way. I don’t know how people get through a sleepless night without Him. He is my rescuer.
I know Fatih . . . I know. Thank you for your words. I appreciate them. I appreciate you. -Ash
Thank you for this, Ashley. Mental health issues are not discussed enough in Christian settings, in my opinion. But in all fairness—mental health professionals do not take faith issues into consideration, either. The two go hand in hand.
Thank you for reading Lisa!!! And I agree 💕