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Where is God in Mental Illness: PART 3

Written July 3/4th On my first night I came here, the day after my husband thwarted my attempt to end my life, I never doubted God's existence. I knew God was real, I also knew how very much the devil wanted me. In those hours I rabbited on about the devil having me. I begged for my children to be saved. I thought my vicar could see I had the devil in me and attributed his behaviour ad protecting the church from me. It is very hard to see God in a locked corridor of howling women, shouting nurses and despair seeping through every locked and windowed door. I woke up and realised I didn't need to take my life. I had already succeeded. This was hell. An absence of anything good and lovely, filled with tormented lost souls with no hope. When my dearest friend visited she reminded me this. We are saved by grace and grace alone. No sin is too big and mental illness should not be considered a sin. My obsessing over not being enough, not praying, serving, forgiving, loving enough. My want to escape. All this is irrelevant. God looks at me and sees a righteous person through his son. My friend asked if I believed it. I know it. I don't know if I am capable of believing anything. Hopefully knowing is enough for now.
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