That Wall Called Prozac
How is it that sadness is the very doorway leading me to deeper gladness? O, mystery of my soul. Optimism and energy, I find, are so different from deep joy and rest. And yet, I know in that dark passageway which led me here, I begged to escape. I wanted anything but to be in the shadows. My soul was pressed upon, confused, attacked. Then, like a child being born, the burning pain transforms into the birth of a new thing: a closeness and clinging to the true Life. Oh, is there any other way? Is the Garden of tears the only path back to the Garden of Communion? Prozac has provided a wall for me, these past six years. Guarding me from agony, and keeping me stepping forward on the straight and narrow, in gratitude to God. A blessed wall. But a wall, to be sure. A wall which has kept away arrows of the enemy that lie viciously about my worth and my life....
