It’s been a heavy fall.
This could be a side effect of the shifting seasons as winter looms in an all encompassing blanket of black (everything seems to be a shade darker this year) that encourages early evenings of hibernation. The spiritual drought I’m in likely has something to do with it too, as I go through the motions not feeling the warm Presence I'm used to. It’s probably partly a result of the jarring embrace of frosty air so cold it leaves a lonely, sharp ache that a boiling cup of tea can’t even thaw.
These symptoms of a looming winter and broken exhaustion have encouraged darkness to easily seep into the crevices of my favorite season.
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Head tilted to the side, eyes focused in little slits, nose scrunched ever-so-slightly, and a quick “uh-huh” with a nod up and down.
I know this look well. I was the recipient of this look nine times out of ten as I word vomited an overcompensated explanation to why I wasn’t making the trek home for the long holiday weekend. Even when the apologetic-guilt comes from a place of love, it leaves both parties wriggling with uncomfortability and is guaranteed to end with a polite decline to join in a family (that's not your own) festivities.
Usually I don’t let moments like this get to me, but I’ve been in a cycle of complaining. A lot. About everything (see example of people being really nice above).
And it’s not just me. Almost everyone I talk to (see: complain with/at) is going through their own hazy valley. Whether it’s petty arguments because your brain is running on T-I-R-E-D mode, holiday overwhelm when you realize all your weekends until “the big day” are full, or being soaked from the waist down by a truck zooming through a puddle that could easily be classified as a small pond - it’s been rough.
You may be rolling your eyes, thinking how manageable these worries are. But I’ve been carrying around this heavy cloud for far too long now, longer than I normally do and I’m tired; tired of trying to figure out all these icky feelings and why my motivation level to workout is at a .43 on a 100 point scale, tired of thinking about how to take my next step forward and why my car has at least 2 issues every other month. I have so many questions and complaints.
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I recently heard about a mother who prayed for hardships in her children’s lives. At first I was taken aback by the harshness of how this sounded. If I found out my mom was asking God to specifically send me struggles, I can confidently say I would have a meltdown, demand she directly go to the Big Guy and take it back.
But after I sat with it for a couple days, it wasn’t such a crazy idea. It’s from the toughest experiences we see just how blessed we are. We should welcome - who am I kidding - we should accept the rough times. Why? Because our hearts are the most moldable, vulnerable, exposed when life gets hard and allows us to experience life with a new (often beautifully pained) perspective.
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To gracefully accept where we are, we have to hand it all over to God. Totally submit to His will and devote ourselves to inner freedom. That “means being so passionately and single-mindedly committed, so completely in love, that we are willing to sacrifice anything, including our lives, for the ultimate goal. It means magnanimous generosity, abandonment into God’s hands, availability” (Brackley, 12).
I’m embarrassed to admit I’m not quite yet holy enough to embrace such a total and radical trust and commitment to His love (this might be the Type A in me). Oh how I wish my internal monologues oozed positivity as another odd work project I’m over qualified for falls on my desk. How I wish I still gave the honking and hooting truck driving by as I try to get a run in the benefit of the doubt. If only I could humbly brag that my thoughts in the face of confusion of our divisive country are always hopeful. I’d love to have a collected demeanor when my emotional buildup explodes at the most random things (‘how could I run out of contact solution so quickly?’ ‘That greeting card cost $5.67?’ ‘The gourds for the party are moldy and rotting’ 'It's. So. Cold.' … you get the idea).
Unfortunately, that’s not (my) real life. But it could be.
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I was dreading the entire month of November. It seems silly, I know. But I couldn’t help it, I was actually fearful of a month (yes, I’ve hit a low point). Now that it’s close to the end, I’m throwing it a little farewell thanksgiving party. And you’re invited.
Looking back on this month, reflect on the ugliness you endured (if any). Whether it was something you lugged around with you daily or dealt with on just one of the long thirty-one days, I encourage you to look those moments right in the eye, shake its hand, and smile.
Do you see it? Without it you wouldn’t have hosted your very first (successful) friendsgiving, tried that new yoga and barre class by yourself, or spent a Sunday afternoon with a coworker in a cafe who just needed a pal.
Don't you see it? Without it you wouldn't have explored the perfect New England town that proved fall is the best season, put yourself through a night of potluck socialization, worked long hours to pull off a really important meeting, or taken a day trip to NYC to meet your sister just because.
Don't you see it? Without it you wouldn’t be hugging your roommates at every 'good morning' and 'goodnight,' doing a daily devotional, rolling your pant legs up at dinner to soak in happiness from a happy light, or making (on average) three cups of tea per day (this is a good thing).
Do you see it? The hurt, sorrow, pain, discomfort has changed you. You’re growing into, adjusting for, becoming closer to the person you’re meant to be.
With that bouquet of blessings, how could you not be thankful?
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And if you ever want a heavy, but thought-provoking read about your place and role in the world:
Brackley, Dean. "Free to Love." The Call to Discernment in Troubled Times. New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 2004. 12. Print.
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