Lord Jesus, what do You want to say to me about the way You love Yourself and the way You want me to love myself?
Darling, it’s OK to be depressed.
It’s OK to mourn and grieve.
It’s OK to sorrow and be in pain.
It’s OK if and when your body responds to that by feeling tired or your brain responds by not feeling motivated.
It’s OK to cut yourself some slack.
I’m not saying you can or should go back to bed for the rest of the day today, but I am saying you should love and accept yourself when you’re depressed.
It’s OK to admit that you’re suffering. If what Jesus suffered is a gallon, and what your friend who lost a child suffered is a cup, and the losses you are suffering right now are a drop, it’s still the same substance and it’s still OK to call it “suffering.”
Because if you call that little drop “suffering,” then you can apply all the verses about suffering to yourself and claim all the promises about suffering for yourself:
Then you can count it all joy and rejoice in it and fellowship with Me in it and know Me in it, in the fellowship of My suffering, and become like Me in My death, and attain to the resurrection of the dead (James 1:2; Phil 3:10).
Then you can rejoice that it is trying your faith like precious gold in a fire for a glorious revelation to come (1 Peter 1:7.
Then you can have no fear because I have overcome the world (John 16:33).
Then you can receive My comfort (2 Corinthians 1:4).
The first step to receiving My comfort is to admit you need it, to admit you’re suffering and call it “suffering.” I don’t want you comparing yourself to others in this area any more than in all the other areas: suffering is suffering, and a small or smaller-than-others portion does not disqualify you. Paul’s suffering, though significant, was nothing like Mine, and yet I let him know Me in the fellowship of My suffering through it. The amount is not what qualifies you, only the fact that it is suffering.
Now, I want to see how kind you can be to yourself. I want you to be as kind and merciful to yourself as you would be to your best friend if she needed you.
I want you to be as compassionate to yourself as to your best friend.
I want you to make yourself nice meals and take her on nice walks.
I want you to give her hugs and snuggle with her and tell her all the nice things I’ve ever said about her.
I want you to call her friends for her and get help for her.
I want you to pray for her and ask others to pray for her.
I want you to tell her the truth and reassure her how precious she is and how nice she is and how pretty she is and all the promises I’ve made to her.
I want you to be very careful to only say nice things to her, only kind and truthful and gentle and compassionate things.
I want you to help her into the shower and style her hair nicely for her and tell her she looks pretty.
I want you to relax about your to-do list and give her time.
I want you to be patient with her.
I want you to praise and reward her when she’s nice to other people in her pain.
I want you to not trouble her with things that worry you, like finances or the future; I want you to just pray for her and ask Me to help, and then not bring it up with yourself, OK?
I want you to be gentle and kind and reassure her that both you and I will take good care of her in the future.
I want you to take her to play with the babies in her life but not wear her out.
I want you to get her good exercise but not berate her about it.
I want you to take good care of her body but never criticize her about it.
I want you to show Me how nice you can be. I want you to be as nice to yourself as if it was Jesus living in your room and lying in your bed and needing your help with all those things and telling you He was depressed, because whatever you did for the least of these My brothers and sisters, you did for Me, including for yourself, OK? And I promise I will help you. You can ask Me anything and I will help you. I promise. Let this drive you into Me.