In Which I Reverse My Position

So after I vented all that hot air here on my blog yesterday, I sent myself off to complete the unfinished shopping.  Well.  Actually Bob sent me off.  And before that I walked the dogs.  A nice long walk that really did make me feel better.  But only slightly.  I took a nap somewhere in there, too.  That helped.  Sleep is always good.  I was still a really big, tearful grump.

One of the problems with having a chronic mental condition, like depression, is that it can be hard to determine if you are having a really bad day, or if you are hormonally ...erm... compromised, or if you really are heading into a downward slide.  Or maybe it's a combination of all three.  Which is the pits.  And which is probably what happened to me yesterday.

However, somewhere in my miserable Saturday, I recalled these words from President Gordon B. Hinckley, prophet and leader of our church for many years:

The most effective medicine for the sickness of self-pity is to lose ourselves in the service of others.  (From “Whosoever Will Save His Life,” Ensign, Aug. 1982, 5.)

Okay, so really I didn't recall those exact words.  I kinda remembered the gist of it.  And honestly, I remembered it with a little bit of a mental groan.  I mean, I really love that quote, but I really don't.  It requires so much of you.  And imagine!--when I go hunting for the quote, it comes worded like that.  (You can find the article here.)  At that point, I felt it fair to assume that this might be a little nudge from the still, small voice, otherwise known as the Holy Ghost.  Oh dear.  Probably shouldn't be avoiding those types of promptings.

Especially since President Hinckley also acknowledges that this was really the Savior Jesus Christ's message first and foremost:

My plea is—if we want joy in our hearts, if we want the Spirit of the Lord in our lives, let us forget ourselves and reach out. Let us put in the background our own personal, selfish interests and reach out in service to others. In so doing, we will find the truth of the Master’s great promise of glad tidings:

“Whosoever will save his life, shall lose it; or whosoever will save his life, shall be willing to lay it down for my sake; and if he is not willing to lay it down for my sake, he shall lose it.

“But whosoever shall be willing to lose his life for my sake, and the gospel, the same shall save it”....  (From “Whosoever Will Save His Life,” 6.)

I mentioned that I don't always like this quote.  Sometimes, when I am in the depths of my serotonin-starved despair, the thought of reaching out in service to others is a painful, insurmountable non-option.  Seriously, it's the nature of depression to devolve inward on oneself and not know how to snap out of that.

But yesterday, those words happened to be like a life preserver for a drowning person: me.

Which is how, today, I ended up making dinner for a woman who was recently released from the hospital after a bout of pneumonia.  And how I ended up having the missionaries over for dinner somewhat unexpectedly, since their dinner calendar had been empty for some time.  I spent a bunch of time in the kitchen, using up all those nice, shiny, new ingredients from my grocery trip, attacking them with knives and fire...oh wait, oh yeah, I was doing acts of service for others.  Yeah, yeah.

You know what, though?  I really do feel better.  It could be because I cleaned up the hazardous kitchen counters along with the rest of the Home Cave, so that I could have a house that would pass inspection for cooking for others, as well as guests in my home sweet home.

But I'm leaning more toward the idea that following that prompting was the way that the Lord could help me out this time.  He's like that, and that's why I love Him.