Dear Prayer Igniter
On the eve of celebration, a memory of fear rears its head; but the knowledge of hope conquers.
Christopher, our second son, uses his Facebook page to both encourage and challenge his community of influence. Let’s PRAY NOW: “Lord God, as I read Chris’s call to celebrate in Jesus, please line me up with Your Word Lord. Reveal dark spots in my heart and mind, then flood them with the light of Your truth, in Jesus name amen.”
Christopher & Ashley
By: Christopher Millar
Sunday, September 30, 2012 at 11:02pm:
I turn 22 this Monday, October 1st, 2012. It will be 3 full years since I started struggling with depression. Each year that my birthday has come around, I fear once again that it will come back and take me down. But, after a long journey through my college experience, a loving Father has taught His son many wonderful things. The first lesson was that my identity needed to be on a stronger foundation than myself. Leaving high school, I placed all my confidence in myself and who I was as an individual. I thought I was important because of who others thought I was and what they thought about me. I thought I was significant because I had a college girlfriend as a senior in high school (still have that girlfriend and she is the bomb, btw!). However, once I got to college, I found out that my identity didn't hold up. I was just another face in the crowd and no one thought highly of me or appreciated me. I quickly began losing the happiness that I so fully enjoyed during my high school career. There were moments where I should
have been happy but felt no ounce of joy in my life. I knew there was a problem when I was sitting at Pappasitos for my birthday with my family and Ashley's family and I wasn't happy. If you have tasted their Fajitas, you understand why I knew there was a problem. My Father began to reconstruct my identity. He began to teach me about His Son Jesus and how He loved me more than I knew. I began to find strength in this new cornerstone.
The second lesson was that a life built on this new cornerstone was far more exciting than I had ever known it to be before. I had never known intimacy with Jesus before and because of the darkness of depression, I had nowhere else to turn. My Father began to reveal His heart towards me and began to show me the grand adventure that He had for my life in communion with His Son Jesus. He began to reveal areas of His heart that I had never known. He began to teach me what grace looked like; that grace was not just the power that saved me from eternal death, but also the power of the cross that rescued me time and time again from dark nights of despair. I had no idea that grace could be so much bigger than a Sunday school lesson.
The third lesson was a lesson in hope. Hope, which cannot be conquered. Hope, which cannot be weakened by any word, action, or event. Hope that when the clouds cover the sky and lightening strikes the earth, that the sun is still faithfully shining behind the clouds; or that the dawn is promised each morning. I had never known such hope, because I had never known such faith. God, through my trials in depression, had created in me a faith that was daily showering in grace. Hope. Christ, and His amazing work on the cross, has given me hope. Christ, and His magnificent resurrection, has given me hope. Christ, and the fact that He will come, as the bride comes for His groom, has given me hope. I write this letter as a reminder, because each year that my birthday comes around a little bit of fear has been in my heart. Not tonight. Tonight, I celebrate hope. I celebrate faith. I celebrate a Savior who has rescued me from death and given me life. There is nothing that can separate me from His love. I rest in the arms of my Father. As a gift to me for my birthday, I pray that you might read this and think deeply on these things. I pray that you might find life as I have. I pray that you will not simply wish me happy birthday on face book. Take time to celebrate with me. Celebrate the things that my Father has done. Thanks.
Your brother and friend, Chris Millar