"I'm fine."

Recently, I shared a post on Facebook that appeared on a page I follow. The post was a series of simple, yet clever comic panes depicting how depression can affect an individual.

As someone who has been diagnosed with depression, I honestly thought nothing of it until I received a few, for lack of a softer word, shocking messages from friends reacting to the post. The consensus was that something must have happened, that something was wrong with me.

Although I cherish the concern, the truth is that I am perfectly fine. I am perfectly fine, and I am struggling with depression.

Yes, the "and" was intentional.

I guess, since I've dealt with it for so long, understanding how depression works is something I take for granted. It's human nature to seek the source of our problems with the hopes of solving them, and therein lies the fundamental issue with the concept.

As hard as it may be to grasp, chronic depression doesn't derive from tragedy. Nothing has to "happen" for it to take over.

That's not to say there aren't triggers that can be the cause. But, in general, searching for causation is a dead end, and I think that's what frustrates people who don't commonly struggle with it. Unfortunately, depression is just as difficult to explain as it is to comprehend, which is why the instinctive response it to hide it.

Depression is like an ache that creeps into our bones and roots itself in the marrow. It resides in the hollow places within us that we can't explain. It echoes in our heads like white noise drowning out logic. Depression is physical and it's mental. It can last seconds, or it can last days. The hardest part about depression is that even those of us who have it really don't understand it.

"What's wrong?" is a vastly intimidating question to someone with depression because, while we are well aware that "I don't know" isn't a socially acceptable response, it is, in most cases, all we have to offer.

As a Christian, things become further complicated for me when trying to get others to understand. "You just need to give it to God" is a favorite response followed closely by "Have you tried praying about it?" Yes, I have tried praying (quite a bit) about it, and after beating myself up over it for a long time, I've come to the conclusion that my depression has no correlation whatsoever to my faith or lack thereof.

In other words, Christians who struggle with depression are not any less of a child of God than those who don't, and if someone tells you otherwise, punch them in the face. Don't really do that...well, only if you want to.

But in all seriousness, that theology is twisted and baseless and set me back quite a bit in my personal struggles. 1 Peter 5:6-7 says, "Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him, for he cares for you."

I must've missed the part where God said, "Humble yourselves, therefore, that ye may be without sadness, anxiety, fear, and/or any combination of the three forever and ever. Amen."

I don't know what scripture everyone else is reading, but "Your anxiety" sounds a lot like God is acknowledging that you will struggle. He didn't intend for depression to be exclusive to non-believers, and He certainly didn't promise immunity from the hardships of life. Don't get me wrong; there is, indeed, power in prayer, and I have, without question, felt the relief and peace of spirit because of that.

However, to insinuate that something as overarching and common as depression is an indication of a lack of faith in God is simply ignorant.

As difficult as that is to believe for those of us who frequently experience it, there's no shame in seeking help. The best medicine is, truthfully, just talking it out, whether that's with God in prayer or with a doctor or friends and family.

There is no pot of gold at the end of a monochromatic rainbow awaiting discovery, no cure in a laboratory somewhere. We're simply wired to be sad sometimes. And as weird as it is, that's okay.

Just realize that there's not something inherently wrong with you, and if you're lucky enough to never have experienced depression, understand that being there for someone who is struggling is the absolute greatest thing you can do for them.

For such a complicated thing like depression, the solution is beautifully simple.

We just need love.

Do as I say, not as I do

Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples: "The teachers of the law and the Pharisees sit in Moses' seat, so you must be careful to do everything they tell you. But do not do what they do, for they do not practice what they preach. They tie up heavy loads and put them on other people's shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them."

Matthew 23: 1-4 (NIV)

This verse is kind of a big deal for me lately.  As I grow older and more involved in the "business" side of life, I'm becoming more wary of modern-day Pharisees, people who exude a false dedication to the teachings they so shamelessly force on others. From church members to coworkers, I've had my fair share of dealings with people who call on Jesus's name as leverage rather than a lifeline. Unfortunately, Pharisees have had roughly two-thousand years (give or take a hundred years) to perfect the art of hiding how blatantly hypocritical and simultaneously prominent they are in society today.

Time and again, I've watched self-proclaimed Christians bastardize God's Word, reducing its purpose to that of a corrupted pedestal on which to exalt themselves. These Pharisees practice something I call "situational faith," or in layman's terms, "they're a bunch of two-faced phonies." I realize it's cliche to invoke the "Is the person you are on Saturday night the same person you are on Sunday morning?" bit, but yet, I've known so many who can't answer "yes" to that question. Just a few examples:

I've met a deacon that consistently fills his "amen" quota every time the church doors open and can out-swear a sailor throughout the work week.

I've met a music minister that sang "Amazing Grace" more times than he could count who frequently made sexual jokes about "what he'd do" to women in the church, including the pastor's daughter.

I've met a Sunday school teacher who, no doubt, taught her class the importance of forgiveness and showing God's love to everyone, yet I've watched her viciously insult others behind their backs in an attempt to exile them.

If you read my last post, you know I'm not claiming that Christians never do wrong. I'm not even claiming that Christians should never do wrong because even God acknowledges that perfection is impossible for anyone but Himself. I'll be the first to admit that I consistently fail God and consistently fall short of His standards.

But the people I mentioned aren't pharisaical because they're Christians and they screwed up. That just means they're human. No, they're pharisaical because they don't own up to their sins, instead they actively and knowingly choose to live like they don't sin at all.

They want the title, they want the "oohs and ahhs" of the congregation in awe of their heightened levels of spirituality, but they don't want to work for it. They want to pick and choose who is worth witnessing to or worth "playing the part" around. They don't "practice what they preach." And in doing so, not only are they openly mocking the name of Jesus and His followers, but they are playing with the souls of those who don't yet have a relationship with God.

It's not my intention to bash anyone, but there has to be accountability somewhere. We can't all go on ignoring the fact that "Christian" has become a label with a negative, hypocritical connotation tied to it. Surely, I'm not the only one who is bothered that our faith is being considered extremist and discriminatory.

But if we want to abolish the predominant image of the Pharisee from our culture, we have to do more than run around cramming God's word down people's throats. We can't allow ourselves to buy into the notion that Christians are entitled or better in any way. We have to do more than "amen" the pastor's sermon about God's love. We have to do more than act like Christians.

We have to live like them.