A photo album of a walk 500.

May your Shabbat be peaceful <3

My boss immeadiately brightened and rushed to explain - "Of course ! Of course! We want to accomodate you! We have another worker who takes off for Ramadan. Do you need to take off for Ramadan?"

Just know, that if you walk away from God, you're walking away from life. You're walking away from living in eternity. You're walking away from true goodness.

Saying "no" to God is no small thing. Saying "yes" to God is no small thing. Choose wisely, because your choice will have a HUGE impact not only on your life, but on the lives of others as well.

God says in Jeremiah 29:13,

I can’t say this often enough: Your pastor is not your doctor and the church is not a clinic. The church has been generally unequipped to deal with mental health. It’s definitely getting better, but I still get messages like, “My pastor told me depression is a sin. My pastor said if I really believed, I wouldn’t be depressed. My pastor said I only need to pray and that therapists are worldly frauds and only the church can help me and that medicine is not normal.”

I can see why this is said: If the church has the best news in the world, that we’re loved and welcomed by the one who made us, then it seems unthinkable for any Christian to express dismay. I’ve been told I’m a “bad witness“ if I’m not happy all the time.

But I don’t see this sort of thing in Scripture. I think David was a bad witness because, you know, of all the murder and genocide and killing his friend to steal his wife. But when David yells “How long O Lord” and runs the full range of emotions from despair to guilt to euphoria, that was left in Scripture. That was a witness to our humanity. A good witness speaks to both our joys and sorrows, our bliss and blisters, our heaven and heartache.

I’ve never liked this whole guilt trip: “How will people know you’re saved if you’re not joyful?” That’s the thing. I’m loved regardless of how joyful or happy I am. I’m loved despite my broken brain. I’m loved when I least know it, when I’m in the fog, when depression has strangled all significance, when it’s numbed me into a joyless shell: I’m still loved.

I trust that medicine and therapy and safe people are an extension of love for us too. We need them as much as our broken world needs justice, clean water, antibiotics, heart medication, vaccines, and homeless shelters. We need the help. Any help is good help, and all good help is God’s help.