I know that this is a subject that applies to all kinds of callings, especially mothers. I’m certain that it applies to pastors, because I’ve been there many times, and I’ve spoken with too many others who share my trench. “Misery loves company,” and so it is helpful to know that we’re not the first, we’re not alone, and we won’t be the last.
As it is recorded that David, in the heat of battle, waxed faint, so may it be written of all the servants of the Lord. Fits of depression come over the most of us. Usually cheerful as we may be, we must at intervals be cast down. The strong are not always vigorous, the wise not always ready, the brave not always courageous, and the joyous not always happy. There may be here and there men of iron, to whom wear and tear work no perceptible detriment, but surely the rust frets even these; and as for ordinary men, the Lord knows, and makes them to know, that they are but dust. Knowing by most painful experience what deep depression of spirit means, being visited therewith at seasons by no means few or far between, I thought it might be consolatory to some of my brethren if I gave my thoughts thereon, that younger men might not fancy that some strange thing had happened to them when they became for a season possessed by melancholy; and that sadder men might know that one upon whom the sun has shone right joyously did not always walk in the light.
—C. H. Spurgeon, Lectures to My Students, “The Minister’s Fainting Fits.”