Beep beep beep...

A while ago the fire alarm in the hall next to my office started beeping. At first it was just the occasional beep throughout the day. Then it started beeping once every five minutes or so. It was clearly time to change the battery.

However, it was one of those situations where no-one really knew whose responsibility it was to change the battery. I suppose that's one of the challenges when lots of people, organisations and charities use the church building as a base of operation, subsequently hot-desking it (where no one really has their own desk or workspace, but just uses whatever desk/space is available at any given time): no one takes ownership of what's around them, because they're not there all the time.

I see a resemblance between this situation and my personal walk with Jesus. I sometimes run out of battery for various reasons. It may be that I'm not consistently intentional about spending time in God's Word. It may be that, at times, I get a bit slack in my prayer life. It may be that the general patterns and stresses of life and living (home, work, children, health, family, finances, future, etc.) just becomes relentlessly draining.

And so I start beeping. The warning signs are there, at first only for me to see. I become a little more agitated with the kids, without showing it (I think...). I have internal conversations that are more negative than hopeful. It starts to feel like I'm stuck in a rut, dry-ish in creativity, just going through the Christian motions that are part of my job. At first I don't beep often. Just every now and then in extreme circumstances.

But the beeping increases over time. It gets more frequent. It develops into a torrent of really negative internal dialogue, a total lack of laughter, feelings of despair and desperation, yelling at the ones I love, triggered by the tiniest of inconveniences, that becomes visible to those around me. I don't like the person I become when my 'Low Battery' light goes on and I start beeping.

For me the warning beeps are often accompanied by feelings of inadequacy and low worth. You know. Almost as if no one cares enough to change my batteries, like the smoke alarm in the hall outside my office.

But that's not true. There is Someone who cares. There is Someone who wants to help, support and care. There is Someone who loves us. This Someone paid the ultimate price on a cross 2000 years ago in order to take ownership of our lives and well-being. This Someone also won the greatest victory by being raised to life again. This Someone lives today and wants to help us in our times of greatest need. This Someone's name is Jesus Christ.

Having struggled with depression before, I know that these feelings do not just go away. Sadness, grief, pain, anxiety, stress and despair do not always just disappear when we turn to Jesus. But the truth of Christ's love is still real, regardless of how we feel at any given time. And that's why I want to become more intentional about reminding myself (and others) about this truth as often as I can. I want to do everything I can to remember how much I am loved, and be restored by the One who loves me.

Lent is a great time to do this. It's a time where we can be intentional about turning to God through prayer, fasting, worship, caring for the weak and vulnerable, and other spiritual disciplines. So I will use this opportunity to take a break from social media. A type of fast if you will. I will use the time I would usually spend on Facebook and Instagram to read, pray, help and, hopefully, write a bit more. I want to do everything in my power to turn to Christ in all I do, in order to be present and ready to receive salvation and restoration when it is offered.

I pray that this Lent will be a time of restoration for you too. I pray that you'll recognise the beeping - the warning signs - in your life and that you'll be intentional about turning to the One who loves, cares and restores. And may you find the peace and joy that surpasses all expectation and understanding.

Selah.