“This is impossible!” — Ezekiel, as he tries to put on my socks.

Over Christmas I hurt my back. A bulging disc. Lots of pain management. Rest. Prescribed PT. The healing has been so slow. And at four weeks I slipped back when I tried to put on a sock. So there was Ezekiel each morning struggling to get socks on my extra wide feet.

In the midst of all this, I officiated two funerals, was replaced on a mission trip to Florida, watched Megan exhausted with so many extra roles… my mind broke. I spiraled. I could only see the negative. Could only think about the pain in my back. Depression. Anxiety.

In that moment God feels so distant. Not that He isn’t real, but you start to wonder if He cares about your situation. You shout that He does, that He is present — but the truth doesn’t break through the fog.

So I took two steps: first, I got back on medication. I had taken something during the pandemic when the church imploded. Second, and just as important. I reached out to faithful friends. I confessed my situation and asked for help. Asked for prayer. And they responded.

There is power in their prayers. There is also power in handing off your burden. Just saying it aloud allows someone else to carry a bit. The load lightens. Your heart is reminded there is more than darkness.

As Baptists we rarely practice confession. We picture Priests in the confessional. We imagine guilt. But I have found confession is less listing sins. Instead it is acknowledging my need for help. We confess to God, but also to our friends. And in this act, they take up a portion of our burden. Their grace allows light to break through. Hope returns.

So to all who are helping me, thank you. And to anyone who is currently spiraling, please reach out.