I had a really significant conversation several months ago.
A friend and I were talking about our experiences with mental illness– anxiety, depression, and all the related symptoms that tendril and thread from the two.
Within the discussion, I shared with her that I had been under a blanketing depression since November. At the time of the conversation this depression was four months strong. I shared with her that what was strange about this depression was that I had a distinct feeling of being sustained even though I was self-aware of my depressed state.
It is an odd sensation to feel not OK and OK at the same time. Peace?
I felt like the Lord was hiding me under His wings. I had a feeling of safety and security that is actually quite antithetical to depression.
There was a deep sense within me that I could wait. I could wait on the Lord. I could wait for the clouds to break. It was going to be OK, and in fact it already was OK because God was there with me, and not just with me but was so near and involved in my situation that He had made Himself the very structure that was keeping me warm and dry while it poured outside.
Many times in my life depression has put its cold hand on me. Never until this past year have I had the experience of feeling like my body and its chemicals were depressed but my soul was OK. My body was broken but my soul was just bruised.
I was not dissociative from my physical reality. My soul was feeling the fight. My mind was foggy. I wanted to live on Reese’s and chocolate chip cookies, and because I’m a grown-up, I did. My emotions vacillated between sad, angry, and lonely. My will had spurts of intense positive resolution in response to the general malaise and defeat.
But! My spirit’s security in Christ spoke comfort where there was none. My spirit spoke future into the places where the past was on parade. My spirit spoke one word at a time so my tired brain could process truth. My spirit spoke about Christ when my soul wanted to speak about itself.
My soul wanted to talk about me– my thoughts, my wants, my unfulfilled desires, my frustrated dreams, my longings, my justifications, my failings, my hurt, my hurt, my hurt, my hurt, my hurt.
My soul wanted to talk about others– the injustices they had inflicted, the disappointments they perpetuated, the yelling, the controlling, the manipulation, the lying, the cheating, the stupidity, the ways they made me feel so alone, so exposed, so crushed and stifled, overlooked, forgotten.
That was my soul. My spirit wanted to talk about:
I told my friend, that my experience these last months taught me that we must tell our souls to acknowledge God.
David the psalmist commands: “Bless the Lord, oh my soul!”
He says, “Do it soul! Rally. Rise up. Bless Him. You don’t want to, but you must. Soul! Hear me. Bless the Lord, oh my dear, sweet, sad, rebellious, self-sufficient, deficient, beloved-of-God soul.”
Praise the Lord, my soul; all my inmost being, praise His holy name. Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not His benefits– who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desire with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s. Psalm 103:1-5 (NIV)
Psalm 103 mentions God’s love 4 distinct times and His compassion also 4 times. His forgiveness, His redemption, His renewal, His healing and restoration, His commitment to righteousness on His children’s behalf– these are the layers that fill out the depiction of God’s love and compassion toward His own. David calls these qualities, “God’s benefits.”
“Praise the Lord, my soul; and forget not His benefits.”
What part of David is commanding his soul?
There must be a sort of super ego to his ego if his self has a self to talk to his self.
Does self=soul? Is there more or less to our “selfs” than a soul? Is a soul different than a spirit?
The soul is our mind, will, and emotions. For someone with mental illness, like my-self, the idea that “the self” is equivalent to the soul would be damning. My mind, will, and emotions are seats of my sickness.
I hopefully maintain the belief that “the self” is tripartite. Being tripartite means that we have three parts: spirit, soul, and body. Or it could be body, soul, and spirit depending on whose in charge within you.
I believe that David’s spirit was commanding his soul to acknowledge the Lord. Our souls are the things prone to wander.
Our spirits are that part that was killed by Adam and then made alive by Christ.
To me, the soul is double minded, sometimes an ally of the spirit and at others an accomplice of the body. The spirit is perhaps always an ally of the Holy Spirit? But the soul is surely fickle and must be commanded. (“Cain, sin is crouching at the door, eager to control you. But you must subdue it and be its master.” Genesis 4:7 NLT.)
I’ll throw a little theological conjecture in here: Is it our spirit that is saved; our soul that is being saved; and our body that will be saved? Maybe: Our spirit has been declared righteous (justification). Our soul is the thing being made holy (sanctification). Our body will be saved from destruction one day (glorification).
My friend’s response to my belief that we have an impetus on us to command our souls was, “This is why we must take care of them.”
I need to take care of my soul.
That comment was really provocative to me. I had to really think about it. I am prone to being hard on my soul. After all, left to its own devices, my soul is one half (with my body) of my flesh. “The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, ” said Paul. However, it is clear in Psalm 103 that God loves my soul and my body too.
So, I have to credit my friend for piquing my interest in what the Bible has to say about caring for our souls.
The Corinthians of the New Testament fell into the Greek fallacy that “the self” is just the material vs the immaterial, and that only the immaterial mattered. (The immaterial being the intellectual, philosophical, and spiritual.)
The Christian scriptures in no way support this view.
God breathed our spirits out, He imagined our personalities, and He crafted our bodies.
So it behooves us to know what God says about soul-care. Not what our culture says—our culture is steeped in the human potential movement— but rather we must know what God says about the instructions for the care of our souls.