Its my party...

I remember an old pop song ‘It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to...’

Whilst not going that far, the voice of depression came to my party yesterday.  A local event in the village hall to celebrate that great moment of ordination the Sunday before.

I arrived with the fear that none would come, like the childhood grief of being stood up at your own birthday party. Yet I knew of those who would be there! Such is the undermining, lying voice of self doubt.

It was a busy affair, with many people there from different churches, and some friends from far off too. There was the moment of presentation when I was given the ordination gift from my churches – a unique commissioned communion set from Marches pottery and handcrafted box to keep it safe, there was the crowd of well wishers, there was love and care from people...

And yet the cursed voice would rob me of the fullness of joy that such a moment should bring, and only whisper about those who are not there, the imperfections of my limited planning, the fear that those present were not enjoying themselves, that I .... (fill in the blank – I’m sure you can!)

But I refuse to hold onto those thoughts – I choose to remember the affirmation of ordination ‘They are worthy’, I choose to hold onto the love of those who came to the party and those who came all the way to Cornwall for the ordination.

The voice is depression but it feeds off tiredness, and I have had a long and emotional couple of weeks.  In the Bible God’s response to the prophet Elijah’s depression was to have him eat and sleep. I did plenty of eating whilst away, now I need some time of sleep, then I will be able to celebrate fully and let people’s care for me seep under the skin properly.