Ichabod

Most Americans know the word Ichabod only as the funny name of the fop schoolteacher in the tale of the headless horseman in Washington Irving’s Legend Of Sleepy Hollow .

Generations of readers have been amused by the pratfalls of song leader Ichabod Crane as he covets the lovely Katrina Van Tassel, and her father’s fortune, only to be outdone by the Herculean Brom Bones and his pumpkin.

Actually, in the Bible there was a real man by the name Ichabod. He was the grandson of the priest Eli who fell off a stool and broke his neck the very day the boy was born. That was the day the wicked Philistines captured the Ark Of The Covenant. The child’s sad name means “The Glory Of The Lord Has Departed”.

Ichabod.

The Glory of the Lord has departed.

I know that feeling.

For the past week I’ve been too down and depressed to do much of anything.

When I try to pinpoint why I feel this way, I come up with all sorts of answers — and no answer at all.

Can I blame this low-down feeling on abysmal book sales? On the problems I had formatting that manuscript last week? On troubles I foresee for my children? Health problems? Laziness? General malaise? Change of seasons? Needed home repairs I can’t afford? That mouse I saw yesterday? The office’s exploitation of Ginny? A chemical imbalance in my brain? Sin? Lack of sleep? Lack of prayer? Not enough chocolate in my diet? Demonic attack? Realizing how I failed in life?….Lots of answers — no answer at all.

I don’t know what triggers it.

I just know the result:

I mope around too listless to dress for the day, to write, to work in the yard, to read seriously, to pray. I feel a mess. I just mull things over continually as ideas sluggishly chase their own tails around and around in my mind.

I’m too down and apathetic to either pray or surf porno sites: My prayers seem to go no where and the ladies seem not worth the trouble of clicking.

That is down.

One of the things I vowed last year when I decided to start posting my private journals as a public blog, was that I would be honest. I obligated myself to writing about the Christian life not as it ought to be, but as it really is for this one particular Christian.

So I write about my life, my spiritual experience, as it is, not as it’s supposed to be.

I do this because I 100% believe that Jesus Christ is Lord, the Son of God, and that He infuses His Spirit into people who trust Him. Therefore I see no need to pretty up the Christian life for public consumption.

But doesn’t it dishonor Christ to show the downside of my Christianity?

Well, on some level I do want to honor the Lord, but, honest to God, how could I do that if I lied about Him and His dealings with me?

If Christianity is true, no need exists to sugarcoat it; if it is false, forget it.

I believe that Christ is real.

I want to be real too.

And my reality right this minute is that being a Christian doesn’t seem to help me one bit.

Bummer.

Will this feeling pass?

Sure. Based on my past experiences (as in my August 13^th post in the archives) I suspect it will. But whether my depression passes or not, the truth of God hardly depends on my moods, whims or fluctuations in how I feel.

The joy of the Lord does return.

He does restore the joy of salvation

But, for me, in the meantime … Ichabod.