14.8 million Americans suffer from clinical depression every year. I am one of them, and maybe you are too.

My first true experience with depression came after the birth of my son. I was married to the love of my life, and I'd just been blessed with the most beautiful human being I had ever seen. At a time when I was supposed to be enjoying my life to the fullest, I was the lowest I had ever been. I was chronically angry, tired and sad. I felt mind-numbingly inadequate, and was constantly overwhelmed with worry about even the simplest things.

While I told my doctor treatment wasn't necessary because I "came out of it," I never truly did. Two years later, my daughter was born, and I soon plunged even deeper into the darkness than I'd ever been before. Finally, after much poking and prodding from my loved ones, I went to my doctor for help.

A few weeks later, I felt the first glimmer of true joy that I'd felt in a long time. It wasn't just the proper treatment that gave me that spark: it was hope. Hope that things could get better, and that one day, the darkness would dissipate and there would be light in my life again.

Since then, depression has been inextricably woven into my life. Good times have been hampered by it, and bad times have been worsened by it. Thankfully, I am now at a point where it is under control, and experience has taught me (and my ever-watchful loved ones) to recognize the signs when it starts to creep back into my life.

Through all this, I have had ample time to wonder why God allowed me to suffer from depression. Why does he let this happen to his children? I believe, from my experience, there are a few different reasons.

To instill empathy for others

I have met and talked with so many people who also suffer from depression. Because of the experiences that come with depression, we can better feel empathy and offer consolation to those in our lives who also have hearts made heavy by this disease.

We become capable of a more meaningful kind of compassion when we've experienced something that others are going through. I'm more aware of my friends who are overwhelmed by motherhood or who I know have dealt with depression in the past, so that I can be there to support them if they need me. The need we have felt in ourselves awakens our senses to the same need in others.

Jesus was a "man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." That is how he can succor us when we are in need, and we can follow his example. In some small, imperfect way, we can do the same thing for others. (Isaiah 53:3)

To teach reliance

In my darkest moments, I had no choice but to cry out to my savior for his help. I needed his love, and I needed his promise that I would find peace again. My son was diagnosed with autism at age four. I convinced myself I had failed him, because I had missed the signs that something was wrong. I constantly punished myself for costing my son critical years of intervention and therapy by not recognizing his symptoms.

Trust in God was the only thing that got me through that difficult time. Faith that his grace could reach even me, when I believed in my heart that my son's "late" diagnosis was due to my inadequacy as a mother. That faith helped me overcome, and eventually gave me the perspective I was severely lacking.

Now, whether it's a good day or a bad day, I trust that God will be there for me. He wants us to come to him! He says so himself, many times. "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28)

Please, please get help from a professional if you think you might be experiencing depression, but also allow God to help you by reaching out to him, too.

To stretch

I think it's common for people who suffer from depression to have trouble seeing the strength we are capable of. We show our true strength and our real capabilities as we persevere through the depths of sorrow.

I never knew my own strength until I survived my first real depressive episode. I felt so weak and broken in the middle of it, but when the clouds finally dispersed, I could see that in reality God had made me more powerful and brave than I ever thought I could be. He plants that strength in his children from the beginning, but often we can't see it until we've had to use it.

To refine

"Behold, I have refined thee...I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction." (Isaiah 48:10)

God chose depression as a "furnace of affliction" for us. Not only do we become stronger as we walk through the flames, but we become purer, too. The refiner's fire is a kind of preparation for us to become closer to God. The things in our life that keep us from him fall away as we feel our need for his presence increase.

I can't say that I'm a great person now that I've been "purified" through the fires of depression. I can say that I'm made a better person through Jesus Christ, and that this "furnace of affliction" has helped me see more clearly the things that affect the strength of my relationship with him. I need that closeness with him when my mind and heart are in need of the peace only he can give.

The truth

I can tell you with certainty that God did NOT give you depression because of your mistakes, or because you deserve it or because he doesn't care about you. Don't let depression sell you that story, because it isn't true.

The truth is, I can't explain why God gave me depression. I can't tell you why you have it either.

Here's what I do know: I know joy shines brighter when you've been through the darkest night. I know growth and change require pain and struggle. I know God loves us and if he allows bad things like depression to happen to us, it is for our good.

He ultimately wants the best for us. He wants us to be given the experiences we need to grow into the absolute best version of ourselves that we can be. The person he knows is inside of us, waiting to break through.

Have courage. He is with us.

"The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped: therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth; and with my song will I praise him." (Psalms 28:7)

The post Why did God give me depression? appeared first on FamilyToday.

My 7-year-old son is on the autism spectrum. He's prone to talking too loudly, making strange noises, and is sometimes hard to understand when he speaks. He has difficulty interacting with other kids appropriately, and sometimes he just acts wild for no reason.

When he was younger, before the blessings of intervention and therapy, he would often scream, cry, hit, scratch and bite. He was difficult to potty train and would often have accidents in public.

I remember walking through a grocery store when my son was only 5. His diagnosis was barely a year old, but already he'd found a place in a special program for kids with autism. They had given me instruction as to what I needed to do if he started melting down in public. While walking through the aisles, he continued to stand up in the cart after I'd asked him to sit down several times, so I took him out of the cart.

He knew this meant he was in trouble, and the meltdown began. He started grabbing my shirt and scratching my arms. As directed by his therapists, I ignored his behavior. By ignoring his meltdown, he wasn't getting any reinforcement for his actions. I continued my shopping trip without acknowledging the little boy who was screaming and crying while trying to stop the cart.

I could feel the stares of everyone I passed in the big box store. Tears came to my eyes as I imagined what they might be thinking. My imagination went wild with speculation about what the elderly lady standing in front of the pasta, or the middle-aged man in the frozen foods was thinking.

Thankfully, those types of trips to the grocery store are far less frequent. Unfortunately, my son does still get "the look" every now and again. I desperately wish I could take these strangers aside, one by one, and tell them the whole story of my son and his disability. I firmly believe if this were possible, hearts would soften, and harsh judgments would disappear.

If I could take each stranger aside, these are the things I would tell them.

My child isn't spoiled

He's not throwing a tantrum because I don't discipline him well enough. If you see me ignoring his tantrum, it's because I'm attempting to stop the behavior by refusing to acknowledge it. He doesn't need a "good old-fashioned spanking." He's not a "bad" kid. He's autistic. The sensory assault of noise and lights can overwhelm him. The stress of interactions with people in stores, restaurants and other various places make it difficult for him to regulate himself.

My child isn't dumb

Just because he only responds to your polite inquiry with laser sounds doesn't mean he's not smart. In reality, he's very, very smart. He just has more barriers to overcome in order to express that intelligence. Don't judge him based on how he's acting in public, in an environment full of unfamiliar people and overwhelming ambient noise. These things make it hard for him to act in a way that represents his true intelligence.

My child isn't exactly normal, either

My son has made so much progress; and it's common for people to be surprised about his disability. I've had many parents tell me they couldn't even tell he is autistic. Just because he's acting "normal" doesn't mean he is. Autism is often called the invisible disability for this very reason. To the untrained eye, he may seem just like other kids. However, his autism is still there, hiding behind what seem like normal behaviors.

My child is unique

He's not just like your relative, friend or acquaintance with autism. He's not Temple Grandin. It's called the autism spectrum because there is such a huge variety in its manifestations. Where one individual on the spectrum struggles to talk to others, another finds it difficult to stop speaking when it becomes inappropriate for the social situation. As the saying goes, if you know one person with autism you know one person with autism.

My child is more alike than different from your child

Children with special needs share more than you'd think with children who don't have special needs. My son likes Star Wars and animals. He loves his mom and dad. He messes with his sister. He can be silly, grumpy or sad. He doesn't like hair cuts and loves bedtime stories.

Don't let my son's disability keep you from seeing him as he is: a beautiful, sweet precious child. Just like yours.

The post Things strangers don’t get about my special needs child appeared first on FamilyToday.

Keeping structure and a routine during a summer break is especially challenging, and Toby's ability to function at his highest level depends heavily on those two things. The stress of the relaxed summer schedule (despite spending a good portion of the summer in school) had prompted Toby to "self-injure." Basically, a dangerous combination of frustration and boredom ended in Toby pulling a still firmly-planted baby tooth clean out of his mouth. Right before my husband and I left for the wedding.

Traveling is stressful. Leaving your children, no matter how much you trust those you leave them with, is stressful. Leaving your children when one of them has expressed extreme annoyance with life by ripping a tooth out of his mouth is stressful to the max.

I spent the majority of my time on the airplane praying for Toby and for my dear in-laws who were watching the kids for us while we were gone.

The morning of my sister's wedding, was a combination of excitement for the wedding, stress, jet lag and worry regarding how many teeth Toby would have left when we got back.

When we arrived at the stunning venue, the anticipation for the wedding grew, and there was a general buzz of excitement in the air. We walked through the front doors, and as we turned a corner in the foyer, I stopped dead in my tracks. Everything seemed to fade away, and for a moment, all I could see was the painting.

Hanging on the wall was a colossal painting of the Savior, in his role as the Good Shepherd. He was on a beautiful hillside surrounded by a large herd of white sheep. What struck me about this image was that, lovingly cradled in His arms, was a black lamb.

The different one. The lamb not quite like the rest. The lamb that might be a little odd or need a little extra help with some things. Like my little black lamb.

My heart was flooded with the love and reassurance of the Savior. In that moment, I felt the Lord tell me He would always love and take care of my different little boy, whatever challenges he might face. I felt His promise that His loving arms would always be open to my little black lamb, no matter what. I had no doubt the Savior loves and knows each of those sheep, regardless of their walk in life.

I've thought a lot about this painting, and I've thought a lot about this day. Through the rest of our time at the wedding, I felt over and over again the reassurance that the Lord would always be there for my son, for my family and for me. Watching my sister get married to the love of her life was an even more powerful confirmation that He knows us and wants the best for us.

The black sheep is something almost everyone can relate to. The uncomfortable and sometimes even depressing feeling that we are "different" or that no one could truly understand us may happen at one time or another. I know I've felt that way many times in various stages of my life.

The Savior always understands us, loves us and will be a constant presence for us if we let him. No matter the struggle, no matter our differences, and no matter who we are or what path we've walked. He will be there with His loving heart and arms open to carry us safely home.

Thanks to heaven's blessings and diligent, caring grandparents Toby didn't mess with his teeth the whole time we were gone. I was so relieved when we got back. However, the very next week, Toby pulled another tooth. This time, I took a deep breath and reminded myself of what I learned on my beautiful sister's wedding day.

Though my little black lamb may have difficult paths to trod, he will always have the Good Shepherd to watch over him.

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