God's Gifts

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
Claire is a typical teenager, she thinks. She sleeps a lot, has a big appetite. She also has been getting headaches and losing interest in things she once enjoyed. Is there an illness that mimics similar symptoms of being a teenager?

Submitted: November 09, 2014

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Submitted: November 09, 2014

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Chapter 1

 

I found my eyes drifting from my history book again. Why couldn’t I concentrate? I would get through a paragraph and then I would find myself looking up.

I put my head down on my arms. Why should I read this? There really didn’t seem to be a point.

Everything seemed so pointless right now. High school seemed pointless. Going to college seemed pointless. Life in general seemed pointless.

There was a knock on my door and my mom came in. I quickly sat up so that she would not see me lying on my history book.

“How’s the homework going?” she asked as she took a seat on my unmade bed.

“Fine,” I lied. I hadn’t even gotten through three pages. And don’t ask me a thing about what I had just read because I honestly have no clue.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to Mia’s Pizza tonight and then take in a movie.” My mom looked at me hopefully.

My dad walked out when I was very young so I grew up being very close to my mom. We often hang out and go to restaurants, movies, or the mall.

Lately though, I just haven’t felt like going out with my mom. I used to enjoy it, but now I don’t.

“I don’t know,” I said hesitantly. I didn’t want to hurt my mom’s feelings but I just didn’t feel like hanging out.

“Come on, Claire, you haven’t felt like hanging out in awhile.”

“It’s just, I have a headache.” I really did have a headache. I have had a headache for the last couple of weeks.

“Why didn’t you say something? I will go get you some Tylenol.”

My mom left the room but returned almost instantly with the Tylenol and a glass of water.

I knew that it wasn’t going to help. It hadn’t helped any other time I had a headache.

“Maybe we can go out tomorrow,” my mom said.

“Maybe,” I echoed. I got the feeling that tomorrow wasn’t going to be any better.

“I will let you get back to your homework. Don’t forget about those college applications.

I took one more look at my history book and pushed it aside. I pulled the college applications towards me but I didn’t feel like doing that either. I didn’t know where I wanted to go to school next year. I didn’t even know what career path I wanted to take.

I pushed aside the applications and turned on the Ellen show. Maybe she could get a laugh out of me. I also pulled my journal towards me. Maybe writing about my feelings would help me feel better.

 

Chapter 2

 

“Claire, dinner time!” my mom called.

I sat up from my desk. Ellen was over and the news was on. I must have fallen asleep.

I looked into the mirror and saw that I had an indentation from the notebook spiral. There was no way that I would be able to hide the fact that I had been asleep.

I ran my fingers through my hair and then went into the kitchen. I sat down at the table and waited for my mom to begin praying.

“Lord, we thank You for this food and all the other blessings You have provided for us. Amen.”

“Amen,” I echoed.

My mom passed me the tuna casserole she had made. I happened to like tuna and I was starving so I took a lot.

“Hungry?” my mom asked with a laugh.

“I guess.”

“So how are the applications going?”

“Great,” I lied.

“Then how in the world did you get the mark on your face?”

I could tell that my mom was very angry.

“I didn’t sleep very well last night,” I said honestly.

“I don’t understand you anymore, Claire!”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you were excited about college. But now, you have a funny way of showing it. Your grades are suffering and I doubt you have even touched the applications.”

“Mom, I am a senior. My college prep classes are a lot of work.”

“Your senior year is important, Claire. You need to try your hardest.”

“I am doing my best, Mom.”

“Good.”

I took more tuna casserole. I hoped my mom was done grilling me.

“You must really be hungry,” my mom said. She was back to her usual pleasant self.

“Yeah.”

My mom was finished so she got up to do the dishes while I continued eating.

When I finally got done, my mom took my plate.

“Why don’t you get back to your work? Just let me know if you need any help.”

“Ok,” I said and went back to my room. I knew that I wasn’t going to get anything else done. I just didn’t feel like doing anything.

I flopped down on my bed and saw that one of my friends had called me.

“Claire, call me,” Alyssa’s voice message said.

I deleted the message and put my phone on my bedside table. I wasn’t going to call her back.

Even though I had just eaten, I felt the urge to eat again. I could hear my mom in the living room watching TV. She would get mad at me if I left my room because that meant that I wasn’t working on my homework.

I remembered the Halloween candy that Alyssa had given me because her sister is diabetic. I pulled the bag out from under my bed.

I pulled wrappers off some of the miniature candy bars and ate them.

The chocolate didn’t give me the energy to get up and do my homework. I decided that I would feel better if I could forget about it and just go to bed. I pushed the candy wrappers on the floor and crawled under the blankets. I knew it was going to take awhile to fall asleep, but I didn’t care. I just needed to escape reality for awhile.

Normally, I pray before I go to bed. But I just didn’t feel like it tonight.

“Lord,” I began, “I don’t know what is going on, but please help me. Amen.”

 

Chapter 3

 

“You need to get up, Claire,” my mom said firmly the next morning.

I opened my eyes and saw my mom standing over me. She is never pleased when she has to wake me up for school.

I hadn’t slept much last night. It seemed like I had only just fallen asleep an hour or two ago and now I felt exhausted.

I really didn’t feel like going to school today. What was the point? My homework wasn’t done and today felt like it was going to be a horrible day.

“Time to get up,” my mom repeated.

“Fine,” I said irritably.

I got up and threw on some clothes. I knew my appearance said that I didn’t care. I was wearing sweats and a t-shirt. My hair was a mess but I didn’t feel like showering.

“Aren’t you going to shower?” my mom asked when I went into the kitchen to eat breakfast.

“No,” I said as I poured a big bowl of cereal.

“Did you get those applications done?”

“Almost,” I lied.

“Please get those finished tonight.”

“I’ll do my best.”

I finished my bowl of cereal and went to my room to grab my backpack. My bed was calling me but I knew that if I skipped school than my mom would find out. My high school calls parents if the student doesn’t show up.

“Have a nice day,” my mom said as I headed out the door.

I slowly started walking to school. I just felt really slowed down, like I didn’t have the energy to walk. I don’t think it has anything to do with not getting much sleep.

I eventually made it to school but I just didn’t feel like being there. I knew I would have to go through the motions because that is what is expected of me.

“Why didn’t you call me back last night?” Alyssa asked when I got to my locker.

“I forgot,” I lied. “What did you want?”

“We had to do that friend interview for English, remember?”

“I’m so sorry, Alyssa.” I had completely forgotten about that assignment. Now Alyssa was going to fail all because of me.

“Don’t worry about it. I called Carmen and she helped me.”

“I’m so sorry, Alyssa.”

“Don’t worry about it. I got the assignment done.”

I didn’t have my assignment done but I really only felt bad that I had promised to help Alyssa but had forgotten.

“Come on, we’re going to be late for choir if we don’t get going.”

I absolutely love singing. Choir is my most favorite class. It gives me a chance to do something I love and forget all about the stress of the rest of my life.

Lately though, I have even lost interest in singing.

“Good morning, girls,” Ms. Swan said as we entered the music room.

I put on a fake smile. “Good morning, Ms. Swan.”

Alyssa and I took our spots in the soprano section and waited for Ms. Swan to begin.

I still felt really bad about not helping Alyssa. I couldn’t understand how I had forgotten about helping her. She had reminded me several times.

Suddenly, I felt a jab in my side. I looked over at Alyssa and realized that we were standing to begin warming up.

I turned to Ms. Swan and the warm ups but I kept finding my attention shifting to the guilt I felt from letting Alyssa down.

Tears threatened as I thought about it. Why was I so sad?
Finally, class was over.

“Can I talk to you a minute, Claire?” Ms. Swan asked as before I left the room.

I turned around and went back up to the piano.

Ms. Swan waited until everyone was out of the room before speaking.

“Is everything all right, Claire?” she asked with concern. “You seem a little distracted.”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just a little stressed because of all the homework I have to do.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I will be fine.”

“Just let me know if you need any help.”

 

Chapter 4

 

After school, Alyssa invited me over to her house but I just felt like being alone so I politely refused her invitation.

So instead, I went home to work on college applications.

I sat down at my desk and started filling out the basic information. I wrote down my name, address, and phone number before I found myself staring into space. I brought my attention back to the application and wrote down my email and birth date. But it wasn’t long before I was staring into space again.

“What’s the point?” I cried as I pushed away the application.

I flopped down on my bed and started crying.

There really was no point to anything anymore. I didn’t care about the future.

I used to think that I wanted to be a writer when I graduated. But now, I am not so sure. I just haven’t felt like writing lately.

I realized that I was wasting valuable homework time by crying like this but I just didn’t have the initiative.

I pulled out the bag of Halloween candy and selected some pieces to eat. I didn’t care how unhealthy the candy was. I was going to eat it.

My phone rang suddenly, dragging me away from my pity party. I looked at the front of the phone and saw that it was Alyssa calling. I didn’t really feel like talking to her so I just let it ring. Eventually, the phone went quiet.

Really, what was the point of my life? I mean, I didn’t enjoy writing anymore. I didn’t enjoy singing. I didn’t enjoy hanging out with Alyssa. I just didn’t feel like doing anything anymore.

Really, I think the world would be better off without me.

I pulled the covers over me and closed my eyes. Hopefully, I would never wake up. But if I did, my life had better be happy otherwise I was going to quit.

I knew exactly what I would do too. I would take the entire bottle of Tylenol. Hopefully, it would be quick and easy.

 

Chapter 5

 

“I think we need to talk,” my mom said a few days later.

It was after school and I was at my desk, pretending to do my homework. I had been lying in bed staring at the wall until I heard my mom come home.

She sat down on my unmade bed and looked around my messy room. The floor was littered with candy wrappers, crumbled applications, and tissues.

I looked at my mom. I knew what this was about. She was going to yell at me about my grades, homework, and college applications.

Tears started threatening and I blinked so that they would not fall.

“I have scheduled you and appointment with Dr. Strasser tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” This was not what I was expecting. Dr. Strasser is the family doctor. I wasn’t feeling sick. Why did I need to see him?

“Claire, something is definitely wrong.”

“No, there isn’t,” I said as I rubbed my forehead. My headache was back.

“Claire, stop lying. You have had an increase in appetite, you sleep all the time, and you keep getting headaches.
“I’m a teenager,” I complained. “I am supposed to eat and sleep all the time.”

“Claire, you are seventeen years old! Why is this just starting now?”

“Age is just a number, Mom.”

“Still, something is wrong and Dr. Strasser will be able to tell us what is going on.”

“I’m not going,” I said firmly.

“You are going,” she said as she stood up. “In the meantime, get your homework done and this mess cleaned up.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me!” I said irritably as I flopped down on my bed.

Now, more than anything, I wished that life could be over. I had hidden the Tylenol under my bed. This would be the perfect time to take some. I opened the bottle and peered inside. There were only four pills left. I didn’t think that would be enough.

“What are you doing with that?” my mom asked as she came back into my room.

“What do you want now?”

“Answer my question first.”

“I have a headache.” It was the truth, thought the pills had never helped relieve my headaches.

My mom took the bottle and poured out two of the pills and gave them to me.

“What do you want?” I asked my mom after she watched me swallow the pills.

“I just wanted to see if you wanted to go out to eat.”

I could tell that my mom was trying to make up after telling me about the appointment.

I didn’t feel like going but I wanted to convince my mom that nothing was wrong.

I put on a fake smile. “I would love that.”

“Great. Let’s try to leave in about fifteen minutes.”

I knew that the evening would be far from enjoyable. I would have to fake happiness the entire time. Maybe I could convince my mom that nothing was wrong and then she would cancel my appointment for tomorrow.

 

Chapter 6

 

As the nurse led me back to the exam room the next afternoon, I made towards the chair beside the doctor’s desk.

“Have a seat here,” the nurse said with a gesture at the exam table.

I reluctantly climbed up and sat patiently while she took my temperature.

“So what’s going on, Claire?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” I said firmly.

“Why are you here?” she reiterated.

“I’m fine,” I repeated.

“The doctor will be in shortly,” she said before she left.

Once the door closed behind her, I jumped down and grabbed a magazine before sitting down in the chair.

I started flipping through the magazine but found myself unable to concentrate on any article.

I got up to choose another magazine but before I could sit down, I decided that I wasn’t interested in that magazine either so I had to turn around to find another one. Before I could choose a new one though, Dr. Strasser came in.

“How’s it going, Claire?” he asked as he washed his hands.

“I’m fine,” I said as I sat down in the chair again.

“Would you please have a seat over there?” he asked.

“Fine!” I grumbled and got back on the exam table.

“So what brings you here?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I repeated. “My mom made me come.”

I guess Dr. Strasser figured he wasn’t going to get a straight answer from me because he took the stethoscope from around his neck and put it to my heart.

“Take a deep breath for me, Claire.”

I took a deep breath.

“So why did your mom insist that you come?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. He just wasn’t going to accept my word that I was fine.

“My mom is suddenly concerned because I am eating more and sleeping longer. Oh, and I have had a few headaches.”

I figured Dr. Strasser would think that what I had told him was nothing so I got ready to jump down.

“Hold on a minute, Claire.” He put his hands out to stop me.

“What?”

Was something seriously wrong? Was there some disease that had the same symptoms as being a teenager?”

“I want you to fill out something for me,” Dr. Strasser said.

“Ok.” As long as it didn’t involve needles, I could fill out a simple paper. It probably was for insurance purposes anyway.

Dr. Strasser handed me a clipboard and pen and sat down to wait for me.

I looked down at the paper and saw that it was some kind of questionnaire. The questions asked whether my sleeping and eating habits had changed and whether I had difficulty concentrating and whether I felt sad or irritable or wasn’t interested in things anymore.

“Finished?” Dr. Strasser asked when I looked up.

“Yeah.” I handed back the clipboard.

Dr. Strasser studied the form and I waited patiently to be dismissed.

“Claire,” he said as he finally looked up, “the good news is that you can get help.”

“What’s going on?” I asked worriedly. How could a couple of questions on a piece of paper determine whether there was something wrong with me?

“You have depression,” he said calmly.

I had depression? As in the mental illness that they lock people up for?

I jumped off the table and prepared to run away. They weren’t going to take me alive!

“What’s going on, Claire?” Dr. Strasser asked with concern.

“You are not going to lock me up! I am not crazy!”

“I never said you were. I’m not going to lock you up. Now, why don’t you have a seat and we can discuss this rationally?”

He pointed to the chair right beside him but I chose the table this time. I wanted to be far away from him in case he decided that I was crazy.

“Claire, depression is pretty common. With help, you can get it managed.”

“And what do you mean by ‘help’?” I asked. I was prepared to run if needed.

“Counseling and medication.”

“So I don’t need to be locked up?” I was starting to calm down slightly.

“Only if you are a danger to yourself or others.”

“I’m fine.”

“In that case, I will arrange for you to meet with a psychiatrist. Any questions?”

I had a ton of questions. Most of them dealt with when I would be better.

“Not now,” I answered.

 

Chapter 7

 

Dr. Strasser insisted that I wait in the waiting room while he talked to my mom. Afterwards, we were able to go home.

My mom seemed scared to let me be alone but I convinced her that I was fine and really did need to get some homework done. But once I got in my room, I got on my computer to do some research about depression.

I learned that many people really do not understand depression. Many people think depression is really sadness. They don’t realize that sadness is in only one symptom of many.

Also, many people think that people who have depression are just being lazy, since they often sleep more and have lost interest in doing ordinary things. They also think that you can just snap out of depression.

I read through the list of symptoms and recognized many of them as what I am experiencing now. I hadn’t realized that there was so much involved in depression.

“How’s it going?” my mom asked as she came in with two cups of hot chocolate.

I turned around from my computer and took the cup she offered me.

“What have you learned?” she asked as she looked at my computer.

“I can’t just snap out of depression,” I told her. I wanted to make it clear that I couldn’t do anything about this.

“I know,” she said with a weak smile. “I have been doing some research of my own.”

“Why me, Mom?” I asked. Tears started streaming down my face.

“From what I read, it sounds like it can be hereditary or caused by other reasons.”

“Do you know if anyone in your family was depressed?”

“I don’t, Claire. That doesn’t mean it couldn’t have come from your father’s side. It wouldn’t matter though. This is something you have to fight.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun.”

“I called the psychiatrist that Dr. Strasser recommended and you have an appointment tomorrow. Honey, we will get through this. Depression is not going to define you.”

“Right.”

“If you need anything, please let me know.”

“Right.”

My mom left and I was able to return back to my research.

I learned that depression is caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain. I didn’t read too much on that site though because it was written using difficult science words.

Before I shut down the computer, I looked up one more thing: the number for the suicide hotline. I entered this number in my phone, just in case. As of right now, I didn’t know what I was capable of.

 

Chapter 8

 

The next afternoon, my mom and I entered the tall brick building to meet with my psychiatrist.

“Claire, do you want to come with me?” a young woman said after we had been in the waiting room for a few minutes.

I stood up but then the woman came over to us.

“Hi,” she said as she shook first my hand and then my mom’s. “I’m Dr. Warner.”

“Ms. Reed,” my mom said. “I’m Claire’s mom.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Reed. I will be keeping in contact with you about any decisions that we make. Everything else will be between me and Claire,” she said with a look at me.

“Thank you.” I could tell my mom liked Dr. Warner already.

“Anyway, follow me, Claire.”

I followed Dr. Warner down a short hall and into an office that had a large desk, two comfy couches, and a couple of chairs. The walls were decorated with several pieces of art and there was a fish tank in the corner.

“Take a seat, Claire.”

I sat down on the edge of the couch while Dr. Warner made herself comfortable on the other couch, directly across from me.

“So, tell me a little about yourself,” she began.

“I’m Claire.” I was feeling a little self conscious. Was I supposed to talk about my old self or the person I have been lately? I looked at Dr. Warner for support.

“That doesn’t tell me much about you,” she said with an encouraging smile.

“What do you want to know about me? I am seventeen years old. My life story could get a little long.”

“Tell me about your family, interests, and things that describe you.”

I wasn’t going to describe how depression had been characterizing my life lately but I could talk about other things.

“I live with just my mom because my dad walked out when I was young. Other than that, I like to write.”

“Do you have a very close relationship with your mom?”

“We used to. We used to go out for pizza and hang out at the mall. And then all of a sudden I didn’t want to anymore.”

How in the world did she do that? I had decided I wasn’t going to discuss my depression and then it just comes out.

“How come?”

“I just didn’t feel like it. Just like I didn’t feel like doing my homework or hanging out with my friends or anything else I used to do.”

“When did this all start?”

So I proceeded to tell her about my senior year and before I knew it, an hour had passed.

“Thanks for being so open with me, Claire,” Dr. Warner said as she stood up. “I think I will have you come in next week so we can talk again.”

 

Chapter 9

 

“Do you want to go to my house?” Alyssa asked me after school.

“I have a lot of homework to do tonight,” I replied.

I really did have a lot of homework as well as the college applications. Plus, I was still depressed.

“You never want to hang out anymore,” Alyssa complained. “What’s going on? You have been acting completely different.”

“I just have a lot of homework and that is stressing me out.”

“Whatever, Claire. I thought our friendship meant something to you.”

I exited the school before Alyssa could say anymore.

“How was school today?” my mom asked when I got to the car.

“Well, Alyssa probably doesn’t want to be my friend anymore!” I said angrily.

“Why? Did you tell her you have depression?”

“Why would I tell her that I have depression?”

“Why wouldn’t you? She is your best friend. Don’t you think she has a right to know?”

“I don’t want anyone to know. People will say that I am crazy! I won’t have any chance of making friends once I do get better.”

“Claire, don’t you think Alyssa deserves an explanation? She would probably be more willing to stick around if you told her what is going on in your life.”

“Would you want to be friends with someone who has a mental illness?”

“Claire, depression is more common than you think. On one of the websites I was on, I read that about one in ten people will experience depression at least once during their lifetime.”

“Then how come I haven’t met anyone?”

“Because they are probably like you; embarrassed and don’t want anyone to know.”

My mom went silent and I stared out the window. I still wasn’t sure I wanted Alyssa to know.

We arrived home and I went to my room to attempt to work on my homework. It didn’t take very long though for the homework to be pushed aside so that I could write in my journal and watch TV. Now that my mom knew I had depression, I no longer needed to hide the fact that I wasn’t doing my homework.

That’s why, when there was a knock on the door, I didn’t bother to pull my math book towards me.

“Come in,” I called.

The door opened and Alyssa walked in.

“What are you doing here?” I asked in surprise. I thought she was mad at me.

“How long have we been friends?” Alyssa asked seriously.

“Since kindergarten,” I replied.

“We have been friends for way too long to just throw away our friendship without an explanation. Look, I know something is bothering you. Why won’t you let me help you?”

“Because it isn’t that simple!” I protested.

Alyssa looked around my messy room and finally took a seat on the edge of the unmade bed.

“You have changed, Claire. Your homework isn’t getting done; your room is a mess. You are acting like a completely different person.”

“I have depression,” I said quietly, as if there was someone else in the room, listening to the conversation.

“What’s that?” Alyssa asked.

“I have depression,” I repeated.

“Why does it need to be a big secret? You know, my mom has been depressed.”

“Really? How come I have never noticed?” I used to spend a lot of time at Alyssa’s house.

“Because she spent a lot of time by herself when she was depressed, just like you.”

“How come you didn’t recognize it in me then?” I asked.

“Depression is a mental illness, Claire,” she said seriously. “Since I can’t see your mind, it is hard to tell. Even a lot of doctors don’t recognize depression in patients.”

“Really?” I guess Dr. Strasser is a good doctor.

“So, are you getting help?”

“I am taking an antidepressant and seeing a psychiatrist.”

“Good. And if you need someone else to talk to, you can always take to me.”

“Thanks.” I did feel better after confiding in her. “Can you just promise me one thing?”
“What’s that?”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“We’re best friends. I don’t tell your secrets.”

“Thanks.”

 

Chapter 10

 

“What do you plan to do after high school?” Dr. Warner asked at my next appointment.

“I don’t know. My mom has me filling out all these college applications but I haven’t a clue what I want my major to be.”

“What do you like to do?” Dr. Warner asked.

“When I am not depressed, I like to write.”

“What do you write?”

“I just keep a journal. I have always wanted to write a novel but I have no idea what I would write about.”

“A former patient of mine was a writer. She always used to say that she wrote about things that were familiar to her. Most of her novels are about people struggling with depression and then finding a relationship with God.”

“How does that work?” I asked curiously. “How does a person with depression not be mad at God?”

“Most of her characters realize the importance of a relationship with God after they realize God can use them through their depression or because God saved their life after they attempted suicide.”

“How can a person be used by God when they are depressed? I don’t have the desire to do anything because I am depressed.”

“Take my former patient, for example. I am allowed to share this because she wrote a book about her depression. She said in the book that God was able to use her through her writing. She writes about depression because it is a topic that she understands very well.”

I thought about what Dr. Warner was saying. My mom and I had gone to church occasionally but only because it seemed like the right thing to do. I never really thought much about God outside of church.

“I will see you on Friday,” Dr. Warner said, interrupting me from my thoughts.

“Bye,” I said distractedly and left the building to find my mom’s car in the parking lot.

When I got home, I went to my computer and looked up depression and the Bible. I wasn’t sure the two had a relationship but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try to do some research.

I was very surprised when sites actually popped up.

Depression in the Bible

 

  • Abraham (Genesis 15)
  • Jonah (Chapter 4)
  • Job
  • Elijah (1 Kings 19)
  • King Saul (1 Samuel 16:14-23)
  • Jeremiah
  • David

 

Deuteronomy 31:8-The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.

 

Psalm 32:10-Many are the woes of the wicked, but the Lord’s unfailing love surrounds the man who trusts in Him.

 

Jeremiah 29:11-“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

 

Wow! I didn’t know that some of the people in the Bible were actually depressed! God was able to use them through their depression!

At the bottom of the page, there was a link that led to a page where you could learn how to become a Christian.

Was I not a Christian? I thought that since I had been a pretty good person and had never killed anyone and because I went to church occasionally, I would go to Heaven.

How to Become a Christian

 

  • Everyone is a sinner and is separated from God.

For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God. Romans 3:23

 

  • God loved us so much that He gave His Son to die for our sins.

But God commanded His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8

 

  • Death means separation forever from God. Eternal life comes by trusting Jesus.

For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. Romans 6:23

 

  • In order to begin your new life in Christ and be saved, you must believe Jesus died for your sins and declare Him as Savior.

If you confess with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. Romans 10:9

 

  • That is God’s promise to you-if you accept Jesus, He will accept you.

For whosever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. Romans 10:13

 

I think I needed to talk to Dr. Warner about this information. It didn’t sound like I was a Christian, but that it wouldn’t be too difficult to become one.

I printed off the page so that I could show her later.

 

Chapter 11

 

“Are you a Christian?” I asked Dr. Warner at our next appointment.

  •  

“How does one become a Christian?”

“Well, one accepts the forgiveness God gave through the death of His Son and then accepts Jesus as their Savior.”

“That’s what I read on the internet,” I said as I pulled out the pages I had printed.

Dr. Warner quickly scanned it. “Yep, it’s all here. Are you considering becoming a Christian?”

“Well, what you said the other day about the patient who could use her depression and gifts for God’s plans really stuck with me. Then, I started doing research about depression in the Bible which then led to the site that talked about how to become a Christian.”

“Do you enjoy reading, Claire?”

“When I am not depressed. Reading and writing kind of go hand-in-hand.”

“I’m going to loan you some of the books my former patient wrote. They all deal with depression and usually one of the characters becomes a Christian.”

I looked through the books she handed me. Hope Academy, Another Chance to Live, and April’s Revolution.

I opened the Hope Academy book and found that it was dedicated to Dr. Warner. Underneath her name was a quote.

Everything is going to be alright. Maybe not today, but someday.

“I really like that quote,” I told Dr. Warner.

“Yes, I usually tell that quote to all my depression patients at some point.”

“I can’t wait to read these,” I told Dr. Warner.

“Go ahead and go then. We will discuss what you have read next time.”

 

  •  

 

I couldn’t put the books Dr. Warner lent me down. Every book dealt with depression and a character that realized the need for God in their lives.

Hope Academy was about a girl who suffered from severe depression in middle school and ended up going to Hope Academy, a high school for depressed students. Once there, her Christian roommate led her to God.

Another Chance to Live was about a girl who tried committing suicide by crashing her car. She had three opportunities to die in the crash but didn’t succeed. Eventually, she realized God had saved her a fourth time; when He sent His Son to die for her sins.

April’s Revolution was about a girl who lost her sister to depression. She decided to raise awareness for depression and later became a Christian.

After reading the books, l realized that I needed to be a Christian too. God could use my gifts and depression for good.

That’s why I started writing my own book, God’s Gifts. It is about a girl who was diagnosed with depression, became a Christian, and then wrote a book about her life.

When I presented the book to Dr. Warner, she thought it was so good, she decided to hook me up with her former patient.

Maybe, if it is God’s plan, I will become a published writer. If not, I will still continue writing about depression because God can always use me.


© Copyright 2019 Kimberly Adams. All rights reserved.

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