Depression CAN hit a moving target.
They say depression can’t hit a moving target.
But it can.
Days move fast.
Noise, tasks, motion -
and still the weight presses in.
Heavy. Persistent. Pressing.
Elijah sat under the broom tree,
his soul crushed,
wishing the world would let him go.
David poured out his longing in the night,
his voice trembling in the dark,
asking why God seemed distant.
God was near them then.
The same God is near now.
Not distant from the ache,
not shaming the heaviness,
but meeting it with tenderness,
carrying what cannot be carried alone.
Even when the heaviness won’t lift,
even when the heart feels worn and weary,
He does not turn away.
His faithfulness does not waver.
He carries the sorrow with us,
and in the quiet of that presence,
we are held, not for what we can bear,
but for who we are in Him.
- This poem is my response to the phrase circulating on social media: “Depression can’t hit a moving target.”
I wrote it to reflect on the heaviness that can come even in the midst of motion, and the God who meets us there. 🤍
