I remember that season well.
Some people call it the dark night of the soul.
Some label it depression.
All I know is that I felt like I lived under a gray cloud,
that I was trapped in a bubble of gray which prevented the love of others from penetrating my heart.
I did what I knew to do, read the Bible, worshipped in spite of how I felt,
and I started walking.
Each day as I walked loops around the little community we lived in,
I'd talk to God and pour out all the gray, ugly feelings to Him.
I remember Him speaking to me out of the book of Matthew.
I read the words about how much He cared for me,
how if He was concerned about the sparrows,
how much more was His care and concern for me.
And then, day after day it seemed I would come upon a dead bird as I was on my walk.
Each time I did it was as if God was reminding me of these words.
It was the oddest thing, as almost daily there would be at least one dead bird
laying there in my path as I walked.
The light at the end of the tunnel came for me, and while I've certainly experienced hard times,
times of discouragement, I've never been in an extended period of depression like that since.
Yet, God used what He allowed me to go through to teach me many things.
I've never forgotten how He even used those birds to speak to me.