It was a grey, windy, cold day last Friday as I looked out my den window. Depression is like that. I recall when I was in major depression that my mind was a grey fog of confusion, battered by strong winds of mental anguish, and drenched by a damp coldness that affected not only my mind but also my body.
But there was hope even then, for the sun was still above the bad weather waiting to break through, and the Son was waiting for the right hour to shine into my soul with the calmness and warmth of a still summer day. And one day He did just that, and I am calm and warm yet today.