My mother suffered a lot because of me. I often told her that I felt like the "living dead", that there was no meaning to life, that within a few months I would either be in a mental institution or a grave. But Mother kept saying, "I know everything will work out for the best. The Lord is letting this happen for a purpose."
Even though I was deeply depressed, I knew I was a Christian. The summer before I dropped out of school, my steady boyfriend rejected me for another girl. Hate and bitterness consumed me. It was then that I read the paperback Peace With God by Billy Graham. Not long afterward, I watched a televised crusade, which ended in my accepting Christ as Savior.
But I didn't make Jesus my Lord. When I returned to college, I returned to my old life—seeking pleasure and recognition. This lifestyle clashed with my newfound spiritual insight and resulted in a deep depression. I could not concentrate on my studies and withdrew from all relationships. It was then I decided to leave school until I could resolve my conflicts.
My mother had a friend who knew the supervisor of the psychiatric ward at the county hospital. Since the doctors were residents who charged a minimal fee, many people were on the waiting list. I was told that the fastest way for me to get help was to enter the hospital and later be put on outpatient care. Me? In a psychiatric ward? The very thought was humiliating. But I was desperate—I hadn't stopped thinking about taking my life, even though I hadn't actually harmed myself. I was so afraid of myself that I consented to admission. The doctor assured me the ward was not a "funny farm" and the patients were no different in outward appearance than anyone who might be seen in a department store crowd.
After the ward door was locked behind me, I realized that he had failed to tell me how emotionally disturbed the patients really were. One pretty sixteen-year-old girl, who felt her parents had given her everything but love, had tried to leap out a window. An older woman, who bore the scars of deep razor cuts on her throat and wrists, told me that her children had found her just in time. She had been recently divorced by a man whom she loved very much and who left her for another woman after thirty years of marriage. The worst case I saw while I was there was a former school teacher who had shot herself in the arm while attempting suicide. She entered in a catatonic state, not realizing who or where she was. She sat immobile and never spoke a word.
These were the kind of people that I had heard existed, but they never seemed real. Now I realized that this situation could happen to anyone. I was thankful that I had walked in instead of being carried. I also understood that my suffering was not as severe in comparison, as I had thought it was.
My doctor confessed that he could not work any miracles, that I was the one who had to do the changing if anything was to change, that I had a "right to my feelings". After I confided in him, I felt some relief, but I knew that I should never become dependent upon him.
When he told me the last week in July that he was taking a vacation for a month, my heart sank. I still hadn't stopped contemplating suicide. Although I had been seeing the doctor on an outpatient basis for several weeks and attending the last six weeks of summer school, I wasn't sure I wanted to return to school in the fall, because of the fear I might have to drop out again.
Then I received a phone call from Dan, a friend from college. He asked me for a date. I accepted. I had always enjoyed Dan's company. He never seemed to worry about anything and was consistently in a happy mood.
I felt I could trust Dan, so I confided in him. He told me that he had undergone a similar experience. He said that like many freshmen he came to college for fun. After his sophomore year, he began wondering what the future held for him. He realized he was unhappy as a business major, but he didn't want to "change horses in the middle of the stream." He went through a period of depression, also. Finally, a friend took an interest in him, and they talked a lot about the Christian life. Dan had considered himself a Christian, but he had never comprehended what completely surrendering one's life to Christ could do. This friend told him about a "quiet time", an early morning period of Bible study and prayer. Dan said that just fifteen minutes a day were valuable enough to give him the personal inspiration he needed. He said that the Bible, "God's inspired word," was actually the revelation of God Himself. Then Dan suggested that I try reading it on a regular basis.
So I started waking up fifteen minutes earlier each day. Often I had to force myself to get up, because I began making up excuses why that extra fifteen minutes sleep was necessary. Arising early and spending the time in fellowship with God was worthwhile. My mind gradually began to clear. "Principles in this book actually make sense. They can apply to me here and now," I thought.
One verse in particular was meaningful. I read Proverbs 3:5-6: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight." I realized I had never completely trusted the Lord enough to turn all areas of my life, including my problems, over to Him. I recalled as analogous occurrence. After trying to rise on water skis for two summers, I finally succeeded. I understood at last that the boat must pull me up and that I had been trying to pull up by my own power. As I remembered, I prayed, "Lord, You are like that boat. All the time I've been resisting You and trying to make it on my own. Please "pull me out of the water!" Suddenly I experienced a tremendous sense of relief.
Truly surrendering myself to the Lord's will made all the difference in my life. I could actually live life for the first time. I found pleasure in simple things—a quiet sunrise, a glorious sunset. My perception of my surroundings deepened and enabled me to write poetry. I could share Christ in a natural, relaxed way. Christ's Spirit caused me to care more about others and their needs. I found a "spiritual family" in a local church. My life took on new meaning and purpose.
Although I will never completely understand why this experience happened, to me, it definitely made me depend upon the Lord. The psychiatrist could only enable me to see that I needed to change. I had to do the changing, and I did it in God's power. I know now that I needed Him to pull me up, to bring me to my feet so that I could ride the waves. With this knowledge, I can face whatever obstacles may be ahead, whatever course is laid for me.
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February 29, 1980
Mr. Roger C. Palms, Editor
Decision Magazine
1300 Harmon Place
Minneapolis, Minnesota 55403
Dear Sir,
The enclosed manuscript is the result of many hours of revising and rewriting* Hopefully, the work spent on my English degree at Texas Christian University has contributed to a well-written copy.
The story itself has been ten years in the offing. During that time period I represented my city in the state final of the Miss America Pageant, taught high school, married, and had two children. My husband Lyndell and I are presently members of MacArthur Blvd. Baptist Church in Irving, where he is a deacon.
My goal in submitting this testimony is that the Lord Jesus be glorified. He is the one who delivered me and who is blessing my life.
Yours in Christ,
Barbara Scott
