Saved from the Pit

I was sliding down into the pit of death, and he pulled me out.
He brought me up out of the mud and dirt. He set my feet on a rock.
He gave me a firm place to stand on.
(Psalm 40:2 NIRV)

David authored this psalm. Fifteen years after my dad died, I found myself following in David’s footsteps, sliding down into the pit of death. The darkness around me was pitch black with no glimmers of light. It was a horrific place to be.

In nature, predators always look for the weak, for those who have been separated from the group—that is the animal they stalk. That also is how Satan operates. He circles his prey waiting for the opportune moment to pounce. Paul described it perfectly when he wrote, “your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour” (1 Peter 5:8 NKJV).

I had moved to a new city to take up a new job. I was alone with no friends or family around me. To add to my misery, I was also carrying enormous guilt. I had married at age twenty and the relationship had sputtered out after two years. Looking back, I can now see I had married so young because I was looking for someone to love me and fill the aching void in my heart. Now, I was divorced and truly believing I had failed God. I was despairing over what I had done; I had taken vows and broken them.

One evening, in the solitude of my home, I reached breaking point. I cried out to God, telling Him I was going to take my own life because I couldn’t handle the loneliness and trauma any longer. It wasn't that I wanted to die; I just wanted the pain to stop. I finally fell asleep exhausted.

I dragged myself into the office the next day, unaware God was about to pull on the tether He had anchored within me all those years ago. I was working for a recording studio, and one of the composers asked me to go for a walk with him because he needed to talk to me. I did not know him very well, so it all seemed a little weird, but I was too tired and washed out to question it. We went down to the nearby river and strolled along the bank. It was obvious he was extremely uncomfortable and really did not want to be there. He finally said he was just going to blurt it out and if I thought he was crazy, so be it.

He told me the evening before he had been in church and the Holy Spirit had told him I was contemplating taking my own life. He needed to tell me there was nothing I had done, or could ever do, that was so bad God would turn His back on me. He was waiting for me with open arms.

At that point, he stopped and looked at me pathetically. It was the same look my puppy gives me when she has done something on the carpet. “Say something, anything, please,” my new friend implored. What I remember most about that moment was that there was no emotion, no choir of angels, no violins. I simply said, “Yep, you’re right.” That Sunday I went with him to church and accepted Christ. From that moment, my life changed and I started on a new adventure walking with Jesus.

I don’t want to stop there, however, and have anyone think life became unicorns and rainbows for me. For the past thirty years, I have faced an ongoing battle with depression. But I now know when that dark cloud tries to settle over me, I will not descend into the pit. Instead, I will walk through the valley, and He will be walking with me every step of the way, holding my hand. He will bring me out safely on the other side.

If you are reading this, sitting in a deep, dark pit of despair, do not give into it and carry the hurt alone. If you have given up hope and feel there is no way out, that happiness and joy are a thing of the past, please, I beg of you, reach out to someone—a friend, a family member, someone at your church, a pastor. They will not think you are crazy. They will not think you are weak. They will feel blessed you trusted them enough to turn to them. God is still on His throne, He is still in heaven, but He uses His children as His instruments. I promise you, there is hope. It does get better; it will get better. I am living proof of that.

And to the others reading this, be sensitive to small signs of hurt in those around you and especially check in on your “strong” friends. Often it is the people who exhibit no outward signs that are in the most pain. We need to take care of each other.