Crying out to God

Ever since I became pregnant with my second son I have been battling depression. It was a hard pregnancy and even though I love my sons more than anything I can't shake my depression. I have everything in the world to be happy about and I can't be happy. I see a Doctor (who is a Christian) and take my prescribed medicine which helps but I still feel like I'm in a hole. I cry out to God constantly for help. I wonder what is wrong with me. Negative thoughts invade my brain daily. I wonder if God has stopped listening to my prayers but I know that is just the devil trying to break me down. I must say he is doing a good job of it. Making me doubt myself, and even hate myself. I do know that God is there and in the back of mind I know he is listening and working in His own way. But that doesn't really make me feel better. I feel like a failure. A complete failure. My family is wonderful and they help me a lot but I still can't shake this feeling. It's like nothing in the world can bring me out of it. I feel selfish for constantly praying for myself like a baby crying out to God but I do not know what to do. Please pray for me. I am lost.

I did what?

According to my family I've been in the back of a police car, an ambulance and a helicopter. Are you kidding me? I don't have the faintest recollection of any of these things. I'm not saying I would cherish a ride in a police car or even an ambulance, but to not remember the experience... it seems a shame. Especially to not remember a helicopter ride.

I thank God that I don't remember the terrible things that my body went through while I was sick. I only wish my family didn't have to suffer through it. I can only imagine what they went through. To this day it blows my mind that they stood by me through all of it. Not just through the coma but afterwards.

At age 23 (almost 24) I had to move back in with my parents. I was pretty much like a child again. My mother had to sleep in the same room with me for months because I had horrible nightmares. I went to therapy four days a week to relearn many basic things that most people take for granted. My recovery process was long, and yet they stood by me the entire time. (More like carried me)

You might think that I have all sorts of questions about why I got sick. Why me? What caused it? Why did I survive it? So on and so on, but I don't.

I know why.

God saved me.

He knew He had to get me out of the situation I was in. He allowed me to get sick and hit my rock bottom so He could get me back on the path of His will.

He has a reason for me to live and although I'm still not exactly sure what that reason is, I know that he is leading me toward it. Or perhaps I'm living it right now.

I believe we make our own decisions. God has a path for us and we can follow it or we can go our own way. That doesn't mean that He will not help lead us back to his path. We may take a detour or two but if we believe that Jesus died for us and repent of our sins he will forgive us and give us another chance. I have been given another chance.

I'd like to quote a prayer from a book I am reading right now.

A Prayer for Joy

Help me, O God,

To listen to what it is that makes my heart glad

and to follow where it leads.

May joy, not guilt,

Your voice, not the voices of others,

Your will, not my willfulness,

be the guides that lead me to my vocation.

Help me to unearth the passions of my heart

that layed buried in my youth.

And help me to go over that ground again and again

until I can hold in my hands,

hold and treasure,

Your calling on my life...

-from Windows of the Soul by Ken Gire

I know that the events of my life have happened for a reason. I know that God has shown mercy on me and I want to glorify Him. It is the smallest thing I can do. I've been praying that He would show me what it is I am to do. I know I must be patient (which is not my best quality).

Apparently staying on topic is also not my best quality. Let me regroup.