I would like to
speak especially to those of you suffering depression. I would like
you to know I am one of you. But through a lot of learning and a lot
of practice and a lot of love from a very kind and heavenly Father and a strong daily dosage of St John's Root, I have learned to
control it. And, I am going to conquer it someday.
First I want to
say this: Thank your Father in Heaven that you live in a day and age
when you aren't swept under the carpet and ignored. Thank God you live
in a day and age when depression is talked about as openly as any
other disease or malady. Thank God you don't live in a day when the
doctors just say - "you're going through a phase"; "you just have an
attitude problem"; or the ever-popular: "you're being moody; stop it!"
It took me 42
years to finally discover what I was going through. After that, I
could work with it. I have recently turned 45, and I have told my
friends and family that I feel ten years younger than I did even a
year ago. Thank God you can learn to deal with and overcome depression
now instead of after another 30 years. And know that there are many,
many people thinking of you and praying for you.
The first poem I
would like to read was written as I was coming out of the worst of my
depression cycles. I wanted to express the hopelessness and darkness
that a person with depression feels. I wanted to be able to express
what it feels like to live in depression. I was partially successful,
but not entirely. I used the similes of Greek mythology to set the
stage.
Cerberus
by Bruce T. Forbes; copyright 1999
In Greek
mythology, Cerberus is the three-headed dog that guards the entrance
into the Underworld, blocking the escape of those within. It seemed
appropriate.
In the midst of
one's personal Hades
Cerberus still stands guard
Letting no one pass by towards the light;
Blocking escape of all who dare -
Not even Chiron,
the boatman,
Dead and senseless to all things physical,
Dares the wrath of the three-headed beast.
With the triple
heads of
Abhorrence, Worthlessness, and Hopelessness
All are trapped eternally in a Hell
Which others cannot understand -
And from which they cannot help one escape.
Oh, for a
Hercules
Like he who braved the monster once before -
Braced up by Mercury the Messenger
and Minerva the Wise
He took on the beast and carried it off.
But where
is my Messenger?
Where is Wisdom enough
That I may gain Herculean strength
And free my way
From the Darkness into Light?
......Because,
as I said, this poem was written on the recovery side of depression, I
knew the answer posed at the end of this poem, and I did not feel
right leaving it unanswered. Hence, the next poem.
Down in the
Darkness
by Bruce T. Forbes; copyright 1999
Suggested Tune: "St Cecilia (Sewall)"
Down in the
darkness, I'm not afraid,
For Jesus, my Savior, has called me His own.
For He is with me; will not desert -
When others forsake me, He'll relieve my hurt
Chorus:
Even in darkness, there is a light -
The love of Jesus - it ever burns bright.
Jesus our Savior - He holds us tight
That we may embrace Him and live in His light.
When others
scorn me 'till I'm ashamed,
I remember Jesus, whose love I have claimed.
When persecution become my lot -
I feel my Savior, whose love fails not
Chorus
Though tempests
may rage, and storms may blow,
From His arms flow the peace others never know.
I'm never alone with my Savior, so dear;
I'm never alone, for my Savior is near.
Chorus
I testify that
you and I are not alone. Christ is there, whether you have
acknowledged Him or not. We do not walk alone and we are not expected
to do so. He loves you and is ready to help you. But you have to open
the dialog and work according to His schedule. But I can tell you - it
is worth it.
Don't be ashamed
of the trials you go through in this life. Maybe you can be ashamed if
you don't seek to remedy the trials, but don't be ashamed of the
trials themselves - because it is during the trials that we come close
to and see God, not during the easy times.
At the end of
several classes in which I learned how to manage depression, anger,
and stress, in the which I learned all about cognitive thinking
patterns and the A-B-C method of checking your thoughts and all the
rest (I'm sure you know what I am talking about!), I realized that I
had made quite a few discoveries about myself. And I wrote this next
poem to express many of the things I had learned. I shared it with the
doctor who had conducted the classes, and he smiled and told me that
he thought I was on my way.
Magic Mirrors
by Bruce T. Forbes; copyright 1997
This was a
stunning realization that helped propel me out of a long spell of
depression.
In fairy tales
it is only the beasts
Who seem to carry magic mirrors,
And I've always wondered why -
Why does something so ugly
Have to always be looking at itself?
Then one day I
realized that it's because
It needs to keep proving to itself
Just how ugly it is.
There is a beast
inside each one of us
That carries its own magic mirrors
And with those mirrors it traps us
With what we think we see in them.
We see our
inadequacies;
We see our fears;
We see all the distorted beliefs
The beasts in life want us to believe
About ourselves.
And for some reason we only feel safe
When we hide behind
Those fuzzy, indistinct reflections?
As if they would protect us.
It is our
inadequacies
And fears
And distorted beliefs
That feed the evil magic
Of those mirrors.
I no longer
believe
It is bad luck
To break mirrors.
Two of the
big things I learned in all my classes is that -
1. I could
not recover on my own. It would take the Master's Hand in my life. I
had to learn to allow a very loving God and His very loving Son into
my life to effect the changes.
2. To
allow them to effect those changes, I had to work very hard. To have
looked upon the whole job ahead of me and to have thought I could do
it all in one step would have been impossible. I had to break it down
into many, many little steps. As I took each step, and felt their
divine help in each one of them, I graduated from crawling and then to
walking. If feel that I have gotten to at least the jogging stage now.
About the time I
was learning to crawl, however, I discovered a picture I loved very
much and purchased it. I hung it in my home in a place I was sure to
see it - across the room from my place at the dining room table. Today
it has an honored place at my work cubicle, were I see it constantly
every day, and I have taped the following poem to the frame:
Kenneserat
by Bruce T. Forbes; copyright 1999
This is the
Hebrew name for the locale and lake Christians know as Galilee.
My favorite
picture
Of Jesus
Is one in which
He is standing,
Not walking,
On the water
And it appears that
The storm-tossed boat
Is doing its best
To reach Him.
This picture
Has helped me realize
That I cannot
Just hold on
And think to ride out
The storms of life -
Even if I
don't have
Faith enough
To walk on water,
I must,
At least,
Paddle.
I testify
to you that as we paddle, we will get better and be able to take
longer, swifter strokes. Eventually, we will 'walk on water' and leave
behind that person who could only paddle. But be patient and work up
to it. I am far from walking on water, but I have paddled hard enough
and long enough to know that the ability is there and that one day
I'll be there.
There are many
of us who do not think that Christ took on anything but our sins. We
must pause and remember the words of Isaiah. In chapter 53 of his
book, he tells us that -
"Surely he hath
borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows?
"But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our
iniquities..."
Not only
did he pay the price for our sins, but He has offered to carry away
our griefs and sorrows. As a person who has gone through depression,
this means a lot to me! I testify that they are a burden He is not
only willing to take from us, but He is very good at it as well. The
hard part is for us to allow Him to do it. Again, I speak as one who
has been there.
In my
personal life, I have discovered that many of my bouts of depression
have been associated with one of two things: the giving up of dreams,
or the turning of dreams into nothing but fantasy. As the way to
fulfilling a dream became so blocked that I gave up on it, I
surrendered into self-pity and self-destructive thoughts. And, I
became to think that fantasy-dreaming was more fulfilling than the
heartache of the real thing. But this only brought more depression as
then I began to realize that there was no use or purpose to dreaming
as none of my dreams would ever come true.
But then I made
a great discovery in the words of one of the great men of our times.
Dreamers of
the Day
by Bruce T. Forbes; copyright 1998
This is based
on a saying attributed to T. E. Lawrence, better known as 'Lawrence
of Arabia':
"All men
dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty
recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity:
but dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their
dream with open eyes, to make it possible."
Dreamers of the
night build with all of their might
In the useless dreams of their sleep -
They build castles grand and dynasties to stand
Through the length and breath of their sleep.
With no tears to
cry, in the blink of an eye,
Empires they do build in their sleep;
But then they awake and their dreams seem to break
As they wash from their eyes the sleep.
Dreamers of the
day put their hands in the clay
And work it with all of their might -
Their muscles they strain; their bodies feel the pain
As they work with all of their might.
Children will be
taught of oppositions fought
As they lived with all of their might -
The memories grand and the castles that stand
Are as tribute to all of their might!
How, then, do we
dream? on our sleep do we lean
As we build on all of our hopes?
Is it all in vain, this fantasy domain,
When in sleep we live all our hopes?
All true
dreams must last 'till the night is long past -
We must work will all of our strength;
Must climb our dream's slope, must not give up our hope -
We must live with all of our strength!
One of my
strongest dreams in life has been to be a person who made a difference
in the world - a person whose voice is not silent, but whose voice is
heard and helps make the world a better place because it has spoken. I
have dreamed of Nobel prizes for my poetry and Academy Awards for
screenplays. But I have discovered that receiving an e-mail and being
told that something I wrote had touched a life and changed it is a
very wonderful thing! I haven't ruled out that Nobel prize, mind you,
but I have readjusted my thinking to recognize the fact that how my
words touch hearts and lives is the true measure of the talent I have
asked God to give me. After all, Jesus Christ walked away from
mortality with no awards on his fireplace mantle, and yet He has
touched billions of lives with his simple words.
I have
discovered that the true joy is touching the lives around you and
letting fame take care of itself. And in that vein, the following
thoughts came.
Summoning
the Heroes
by Bruce T. Forbes; copyright 1998
It is
significant
That the Summoning of Heroes
Occurs before the Games begin -
For in this seemingly-insignificant gesture
We proclaim to the world
That all those
With courage enough to participate
Are Heroes.
Often the
greatest heroes
Return home without metals.
Those who use the Games
As their reason to achieve
Or to overcome
Or to prove to no one but themselves -
These are the heroes I remember.
Occasionally a
hero of mine
Stands on the victor's podium,
And I am proud of them.
But I am just as proud of my Heroes
Who stand on no podium
And whose heads are still
Held as high
As those who do.
Occasionally a
hero of mine
Comes in last -
They have taught me that,
Often,
The most heroic thing
A person can do
Is to participate
Even when you know
You will come in last.
My heroes have
taught me
The greatest lesson in living
That I have ever learned:
It is not your victories over others
Which make you a hero -
It is how willing you are
To participate in life,
Even when there is
No hope
For a metal
Or a victor's podium.
My heroes
have taught me
That in the Closing Ceremonies of Life
What will be remembered
Is how your life
Inspired others
To become
Heroes.
And speaking of
Heroes, who likes comic books? (All
hands went up.)
This last poem I would like to share was written to express my
feelings about several of the "superheroes" I have enjoyed in my life.
Although the last person talked about is in no way a comic book
superhero, I hope you can get the point I would like to make.
Too Many Bad
Guys To Fight
by Bruce T. Forbes; copyright 1992 and 2000.
This was written several years before the well-publicized death and
'surprise' resurrection of Superman in the mid-1990's. The last two
verses were specifically written for this devotional address.
When did
Superman finally die?
When did he stop his flying so high?
When Goodness and Right could not excite,
You and I became his kryptonite.
With all of his might he fought for the right;
There was just too many bad guys to fight.
Why's the Lone
Ranger taken off his mask?
Why's he ride no longer, you may ask -
When we for the right no longer cheered
He just rode away as we laughed and jeered.
With all of his might he fought for the right;
There was just too many bad guys to fight.
And when did
Zorro hang up his swords,
And stop fighting all the ugly hordes?
The dirt and the dust weren't worth it all
When we his people didn't care at all.
With all of his might he fought for the right;
There was just too many bad guys to fight.
When did
Spiderman fall from his web
And allow the goodness of the world to ebb?
He finally shrugged, said "What's the use?
If they don't care, why take the abuse?"
With all of his might he fought for the right;
There was just too many bad guys to fight.
Now Wonder
Woman's left us alone -
Where she has gone is still unknown.
I doubt we'll see her ever again
Until we become much better men.
With all of her might she fought for the right;
There was just too many bad guys to fight.
Did Batman
finally clip his own wings
And from a building his body fling?
He gave his life on the end of a rope -
He found no soul who still had hope.
With all of his might he fought for the right;
There was just too many bad guys to fight.
The magic dragon
once named Puff -
We all have treated him pretty rough!
Out of his own love, goodness he gave,
But we forced him back into his cave.
With all of their might they fought for the right;
We were just too many bad guys to fight.
There is a Hero
we can't scare off
No matter how much we laugh and scoff
He'll stand beside us through thick and thin
Forever hoping our crown we'll win
With all of His might He fights for the right
And He's looking for allies to win that fight.
Seen or
unseen, He stands with us
And acknowledging Him Is a must!
For with Him fighting on our side
Heaven we'll reach with Him as our Guide.
With all of our might let us fight for the right -
For He needs so many good guys - tonight!
---------------------------------------
After the
devotional the boys exited the chapel past the door where we who had
performed were sitting; they all shook our hand and thanked us for
coming - it was kind of obvious that this is what they always did. My
heart was touched, however, by several of the boys who were reached by
my presentation - some of the thank-you's were a bit more sincere;
there were some lumpy throats. But what touched me the most was one
boy who couldn't have been more than twelve years old - he tried so
hard to say something and couldn't. He handed me something and told me
he wanted me to have it. It was the picture of Jesus that he carried
in his scriptures.
I keep this
picture in the front of my poetry/lyrics book as a reminder of why the
Lord gives me what talent He has graced me with - that I might
remember how He wants me to use that talent. I think that when I
finally have a fireplace with a mantle, this picture will be the award
that takes the center stage as the greatest reward I will ever receive
for all my writing efforts.