I made coffee for a para-church ministry this morning. We also prepared the library for built-in bookcases. I texted with a brother about getting some boxes for books, but we decided not to travel north to get them. We finished our grilled cheese sandwiches, and I took a nap. When I got up I made some peanut butter and crackers, watched James May in Japan and read the Count of Monte Cristo on the porch.

I bought an inferior coffee bean grinder to the one we had for 23 years, so I have to psyche myself up a bit to stand at the counter to grind my favorite brand of espresso bean. It takes awhile because I like a very finely ground espresso for my stove-top espresso maker from Italy. I make enough for two pots because, as I wrote, getting it finely ground is painstaking, and still it does not grind it as finely as I want even after I’ve stood there for 10 minutes. I need to find a better coffee bean grinder, but that means I have to research. I hate research. I love espresso, and I’m about to down my second shot. I’m going to be up late tonight!

I write all of that in an attempt to relieve myself of some suffering I’m not going to wax on about. I know that’s frustrating for you, and it’s frustrating for me because I want to lament, but I can’t. I’m hurting, and I forgot to mention that while I waited for the espresso to percolate I also did the dishes. I am a professional dishwasher, so that batch was an “insignificant” amount. I’ve been a professional cleaner for 15 years, so I’m basically a ninja when it comes to clean. There are those white glove jerks who wouldn’t be pleased if Mr. Clean came to their house, but that’s another blog post. I’m hurting as I wrote above. I wish I could elaborate. I can’t as I wrote above. When I’m hurting I can’t read. I have to get off my ass and do. I chose to do dishes and make espresso. When I was watching James May in Japan I certainly appreciated the advice to inhale for 4 seconds, and exhale for 5 seconds. I’ve been doing that for the last 2 hours. It helps.

Battling depression is an hourly fight. It’s exhausting. My photographic memory doesn’t help either. I re live every bad experience from the day of to the point in my mind when I was 4. Some people can move on. I cannot, hence I fight a debilitating mental illness called depression. I can distract myself by doing the dishes, grinding espresso beans for half an hour and making espresso, but time after time my thoughts skid to a screeching halt when Satan leverages them to fixate on the brokenness. Is that sentence melodramatic? It might be. Am I opening myself up to a dark fellowship from which there is no return? It’s too late for that because Satan and his minions are alive and well as they roam the earth. If you think you aren’t susceptible to the agenda of Satan then he’s deceived you. If you don’t believe in Satan he’s really got you. Do you have to hole yourself up in your house or apartment in fear? No, but sometimes that’s exactly where you need to be to get your bearings.

Sometimes you may feel guilty in taking a nap. Sometimes you may not want to do the dishes, or you’re overthinking how the espresso will keep you up. Maybe you need to stay up. Maybe you need to be so kind to yourself you write the fact that God loves you unconditionally in this very moment over and over till you believe it.

The darkness is real. Satan is real. Imposter syndrome is real. I’m not enough is real, but it’s a lie. Confront the lies the way a soldier faces down a terrorist.

Jesus loves you. Those are the 3 most powerful words in the world. If it takes doing the dishes and making espresso to get you to that then so be it, but do what gets you to the point where you are at least thinking about him. He’s thinking about you.