Ive been in a valley. Not the darkest or the deepest one Ive wandered, but a valley nonetheless. The type of valley you would see in a romcom right before they realize whats missing. It almost makes me wanna slip into an oversized sweater and curl up next to a rainy window cradling a cuppa coffee. But since I live in a place that rarely reflects seasonal shifts, its more of a tank top, straddling the a/c with my juice in hand while I pin desserts Ill never actually bake and outfits that Ill never actually wear kinda situation. I wake up, assess what hurts, and try to be brave enough to speak it out loud. Theres so much healing that comes out of speaking truth out loud and yet so many obstacles keep us from doing so. Some of my truest prayers are my tears. My heart hurts. Is what eventually squeaks out. Yes, before my feet hit the floor I feel the weight of the day ahead of me, knowing Ill have to take my thoughts captive throughout it. Give me strength. I lean in front of my coffee pot watching out my kitchen window, searching for something joyful (knowing its often found in whats brewing). I step on the scale: no joy there, I hear the clock tick and wonder how much longer before I can receive my participation ribbon for this day and return to the safety of my bed. I was not created to feel depressed. To feel defeated. To feel stifled by this world. And yet I sometimes do. Its not that Im inherently a Pollyanna, its that I cant afford to think any other way. Its too costly and I am too fragile. I often ask, exasperated, Why have you given me this tender heart?? Why must I feel things to a degree that leaves me so very weary? I am depleted. So I continue to practice hope. Its the only way. I head out my door with a mission to collect it. Enough for this day. I stumble over the foliage, brimming with the promise of Autumn, collect it. I look to my beloved, big, beautiful, sweeping skies; Clouds are so very hopeful. I feel it on my neck when a baby breathes so sweetly in my arms. I find it in my nieces laughter, tickled pink at the film were enjoying, Lord, let her be funny, I pray. We have very little control over how we look to this world but we have every bit of control over how we contribute to it. Humor is such a great big piece of me, sarcasm my spiritual gift. ;) Let my words speak life. Let my thoughts and actions be an extension of Love. Hope. I head to the mountains to feel small once more. Something I know to be hopeful. What a privilege it has been to grow up at the base of a mountain. It has defined my existence in so many marvelous ways. I look down and around this landscape and hope floods me. I schlepp to the sea, letting the salty air revive what time has wilted. I return home with my hope tank filled for just one more day. As my bestie Paul says, Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead. Hope is ahead. Strength is ahead. Peace, clarity, wisdom. Death has LOST its sting. Behold! Love wins! I patiently wait for the sun to set, giving me the permission I need to close the books on another valley day. I pull the covers over my head and I rest in Him once more. So often others will try to comfort me with, God doesnt give you more than you can handle. And other wonderful lies. They are well meaning words. Good intensional, pure hearted, nonsense. More than my share of horrible, unspeakable, unfathomable, overwhelmingly awful shit has taken place in my life. I say this to acknowledge the pain; its not something I sweep aside. I speak truth to it. Out loud. Even if my voice shakes. Especially when my voice shakes. Things have been taken from me, yes. Blood sacrifices have been made, absolutely. But does God not promise to use ALL of it for good, Ash? All of it. Every last shitty bit of it. His power is made perfect in weakness and I live life as a weakling. Praise Him. I find rest in you and you alone, Father. I find comfort and strength in your grace. Like a child, desperate to be held I live my days on my tip toes, straining for your grasp. Its in the places I cant handle that You show me what You can. youtu.be/tp80oWtnJc0
Posted on: Thu, 16 Oct 2014 12:33:12 +0000
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