I Hear Your Cries

By Xu

- a response to "A Tent Over the Heating Vent"

I, too, longed for marriage. Because of my illness, however, I didn't often dare think about it. I didn't want to cause trouble to somebody else. I had to suppress my own desires.

In the 44th Issue of Overseas Campus, I read the article "A Tent Over the Heating Vent", written by a psychiatric patient. The author wrote about agonies that nobody else could feel. It was like being in hell.

In his article, the author sent out a call for love towards mental patients. I used to be a mental patient too. I want to say that such love does exist. My own experience is an example.

When I was nineteen years old, I was suffering from the death of my father as well as being under tremendous pressure at work. For more than ten days I couldn't sleep and eventually I suffered a mental breakdown. Following electro-therapy and medication I recovered to a certain degree. But a few months later I relapsed and was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. In the following thirty years or so, I recovered and relapsed, recovered again and relapsed again. I was unnable to free myself from my illness.

When I was thirty-six, I accepted the Lord and began a habit of daily prayer, Scripture reading and journal writing. I experienced an inner transformation - and yet my illness remained.

I tried to be faithful and patient, hoping for a complete recovery. I unlocked all my suppressed thoughts in my journal. I prayed really hard and submitted myself completely to the Lord. I was willing to give up my old self, to fix my eyes to the Lord and to love others as he had loved us. Thanks to these changes in my mind, joy came back to me. In the past I had wallowed in self-pity so much that I often suffered mental disorder. But now I was caring about other people, so that before I knew it  an inner peace was being restored within me.

With my experience in writing, I began to write down my testimony and send some of my writings to publishers. Time and again my writings were rejected, yet I never gave up. I continued to take advice from older people. I read extensively and I tried again. Finally, one of my writings was published. My joy was beyond words.

I, too, had longed for marriage. Because of my illness, however, I didn't often dare to think about it. I didn't want to cause trouble to another person. I had to suppress my own desires and gave up the idea of marriage. But the love of Jesus was always with me and I went to the fellowship regularly.

Gradually I didn't have to take my medications every day. The illness, however, continued to bother me from time to time. I tried to ignore it, taking it as an interruption of my busy work of reading and writing.

I didn't know what other people were saying about me. Nor did I care anyway, good or bad, weird or dumb. I learned to forgive. I benefited from my own forgiveness because I didn't have to live with resentment and anger, which could kill off my blood cells.

Interestingly, when you stop caring about yourself, others will start to care about you. I had never thought about marriage, nor had I prayed for it. But quietly the Lord was bringing her to me from far away. She said she knew about my physical condition and yet she loved me anyway. She said she would not change her mind for better for worse. Praise the Lord! I married her when I was forty-eight.

After that, when I was weak, my wife understood my weakness. She never gave up on me but  was always ready to greet me with love and forgiveness. Very often she couldn't sleep properly because I was being irrational. But she never complained. She would feed me and put me to bed. She would keep me company me through sleepless nights, and then she would go off to work at daybreak.

Following the misfortune of a miscarriage, we had a tough time for several years but she never tried to leave me. Then an additional misfortune befell me when I suffered from a rare disease and nearly died of it. Fortunately, the medication was effective and the caring prayers of brothers and sisters at church brought me back to life. During that time, it was her efforts that were the most effective. So I would like to thank her sincerely and to thank the Lord for his love and compassion.

Having experienced spiritual and physical sufferings, I have learned to be especially compassionate to ailing people and I have learned to comfort them. Soon after I recovered, the Lord gave me a son. To my surprise and joy, he was healthy and gifted. To me, he is no less than a genius. Today he is a third-grade student in the top class.

Twenty months later my second son was born. He was also healthy, smart and tall. He is now a first-grade student. His teacher said that he did really well at school and that he would recommend him to honor class too.

We had a wonderful family life. Every evening, they would ask me to read the Scripture to them. I read in Chinese and they followed in English. Then we prayed. Sometimes I couldn't sleep but I was always at peace. During the past three years, I have been able to get regular sleep and my illness has long departed from me. Praise the Lord!

From my experience, let me give some advice to mental patients: Trust the Lord, fear the Lord and live out the love of the Lord Jesus. Always be alert and always love your neighbors as yourself. With the Lord's love in you, you will not become angry or hurt yourself or others.

The author lives in California.