Do you ever cry and not know why?
I talk about melancholy a lot, and sadness a lot. I've written about how sadness can be good, and that we should learn to feel it all. But yesterday was different. It was a sadness that felt horrible to have. It was different than melancholy, or even grief.
I walked into Trader Joes shaking with at pit in my stomach, and as soon as I walked out onto the floor to clock in my eyes started to mist and the crying would not stop. For what reason? What was wrong? I didn't quite know how to explain that to anyone who was asking me. I just know that I couldn't stop crying for about an hour. A snotty, red-eye, wet face cry.
Depression. Inexplicable depression. My life feels small and meaningless right now.
But I am here for good reason. I am here because I feel I need to be right now and that should be reason enough. Suck it up. Right?
No. God doesn't tell us to suck it up. He guides us through hardships in our lives, and asks us to make sacrifices sometimes, but would never ask us to lose our joy and suck it up. Never. God's greatest joy is for us to live fully and joyfully. And when we DO make those sacrifices he asks us to it is in the name of finding that joy He knows we can have, that life that makes us feel full. This sadness is not right. This sadness connects to something that is... wrong, I suppose.
I feel slightly defeated. I live in a broken world, but must I go through this cycle of unhappiness my whole life? Is that all I have to look forward to? Joy and then sadness, followed by joy, and then sadness again. It's hard on the soul, this overwhelming joy followed my a hot sadness. The two extremes are causing me to break. Lord Jesus, if this is the life I have to live on this Earth then take me to heaven. Please. Spare me from this turmoil.
But He stops me, tells me to rest my soul, and reminds me there is SO much more to look forward to on this Earth. My sadness is nudging me to take a few steps forward.
What I really want to do is quit my job, quit my responsibilities, and take a month off of life to do what I fully enjoy. But I can't for now. I am where I am, but all is not lost because of that. I am where I am and God meets me there. With Him he brings Joy.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
The swallowing and wallowing.
There is nothing profound in this post. There is nothing thoughtful in this post. This post will most likely be full of my whining and questioning.
Why? Why? Why am I here?
Once again (because it's happened a zillion times over and over since I've been here starting in April) I find myself being swallowed up in a depression hole of meaningless suburban life. The only thing that's going to feel good is to cry myself to sleep tonight, or quit my job and move across the country to where most of my surroundings bring me life.
Every day I start to feel sick to my stomach and I can't pin it to anything other than my emotions manifesting themselves in my gut.
Every time I am invited to hang out with people who I could be making friendships with I pass to curl up in my bed.
Where a tidy room once was, there are now about four piles of clothes that I don't care to do anything about. Normally I love organization.
Normally I have more days to myself. But I felt like I had to push myself into some sort of transformation or growth since I am in the life-sucking suburbs, so now instead of ever actually having a day to rest and organize, I pack two meals a day and rush out the door after breakfast for different things I have committed myself to.
And when do I get a real vacation again? Next month. I am SO looking forward to it, but I can't live month-by-month. Weekend-to-weekend. Day off to day off.
I want to live fully every day. But right now it doesn't feel full in the right sense of the word. Full. Full means busy right now. What I want full to mean is life-giving. I don't see that happening. Tidbits of time with my family I feel life breathing itself back into me. But where is my life? What happened to it? What do I have to live for or look forward to? When am I going to get out of here? Every day hurts me a little more. Every day the pain in the pit of my stomach hurts. One of these days I wish I could really just get bed-ridden sick so I could take a few days off of this life and think about what the hell is it that I'm doing.
When I'm in Colorado everything feels right. I fit there like a missing piece to a puzzle. I love the air. The beauty. The colors of the trees. I love the seasons, the length of each season, I love the wild animals you can see running in the distance, or even close up. I love that bluegrass is everywhere. I love the people I know there. I love the people I don't know there. I love seeing a Westfalia nearly ever day. I love the way the dry air makes my hair feel softer. I love the long, sunny winters, and I love how much I hate the wind. I love that everyone has something out there. I love that everyone loves what they are doing with their life and where they are. I love that I love cloudy days THAT much more out there, and I love that I love Illinois THAT much more when I got to be but a visitor. I love that driving anywhere is a pleasure. I love that there is something to do no matter what when you are that close to the mountains. I love that I don't have to worry about tornadoes in the mountains. I love that everyone is so much more environmentally conscious by nature. I love that I feel so at home there.
I hate that I am so far away.
Today I feel just a little bit hopeless. That's no fun.
Why? Why? Why am I here?
Once again (because it's happened a zillion times over and over since I've been here starting in April) I find myself being swallowed up in a depression hole of meaningless suburban life. The only thing that's going to feel good is to cry myself to sleep tonight, or quit my job and move across the country to where most of my surroundings bring me life.
Every day I start to feel sick to my stomach and I can't pin it to anything other than my emotions manifesting themselves in my gut.
Every time I am invited to hang out with people who I could be making friendships with I pass to curl up in my bed.
Where a tidy room once was, there are now about four piles of clothes that I don't care to do anything about. Normally I love organization.
Normally I have more days to myself. But I felt like I had to push myself into some sort of transformation or growth since I am in the life-sucking suburbs, so now instead of ever actually having a day to rest and organize, I pack two meals a day and rush out the door after breakfast for different things I have committed myself to.
And when do I get a real vacation again? Next month. I am SO looking forward to it, but I can't live month-by-month. Weekend-to-weekend. Day off to day off.
I want to live fully every day. But right now it doesn't feel full in the right sense of the word. Full. Full means busy right now. What I want full to mean is life-giving. I don't see that happening. Tidbits of time with my family I feel life breathing itself back into me. But where is my life? What happened to it? What do I have to live for or look forward to? When am I going to get out of here? Every day hurts me a little more. Every day the pain in the pit of my stomach hurts. One of these days I wish I could really just get bed-ridden sick so I could take a few days off of this life and think about what the hell is it that I'm doing.
When I'm in Colorado everything feels right. I fit there like a missing piece to a puzzle. I love the air. The beauty. The colors of the trees. I love the seasons, the length of each season, I love the wild animals you can see running in the distance, or even close up. I love that bluegrass is everywhere. I love the people I know there. I love the people I don't know there. I love seeing a Westfalia nearly ever day. I love the way the dry air makes my hair feel softer. I love the long, sunny winters, and I love how much I hate the wind. I love that everyone has something out there. I love that everyone loves what they are doing with their life and where they are. I love that I love cloudy days THAT much more out there, and I love that I love Illinois THAT much more when I got to be but a visitor. I love that driving anywhere is a pleasure. I love that there is something to do no matter what when you are that close to the mountains. I love that I don't have to worry about tornadoes in the mountains. I love that everyone is so much more environmentally conscious by nature. I love that I feel so at home there.
I hate that I am so far away.
Today I feel just a little bit hopeless. That's no fun.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
My Strong One
The yellow from the trees light the Earth when the sky is dark.
Blue deepens with waves of grey and rests heavily atop the trees ablaze.
My eyes turn down and rest just the same. They rest on my heart. Then my heart sings ablaze.
I see Creation echo His heart. His image is in me, and I am His art.
It surrounds me, unfolds me, reflects me, and molds me.
A greater joy, I have none, than to create along side my Creator.
My Strong One.
Blue deepens with waves of grey and rests heavily atop the trees ablaze.
My eyes turn down and rest just the same. They rest on my heart. Then my heart sings ablaze.
I see Creation echo His heart. His image is in me, and I am His art.
It surrounds me, unfolds me, reflects me, and molds me.
A greater joy, I have none, than to create along side my Creator.
My Strong One.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Melancholy
Since childhood I've known that melancholy holds me.
It's a tear which cradles my soul and a grey that consumes me.
From this tear, from this grey, light shines out with much to say.
The summer sunshine drips with joy,
Spring colors excite our souls,
Winter snow waters reflection.
But Autumn, here, reflects me close.
The gloomy sky looks deep into my eye,
It dampens the Earth and in reflection, I cry.
But darkness is not what these tears want to bring;
It's colors far brighter, far more vibrant than spring.
From a salty cheek my own colors grow.
Just as Autmn's gloom sets in, the trees prepare a show.
They set themselves on fire with passion and fervor,
even as they sit so still,
so strong,
they sing a deepness in their song.
Through the leaves, through the trees, the gre sky and soggy evenings,
My soul reflects the contrast of this Earth in grey Autumn seasons.
Once again I find myself in a melancholy world,
feeding off the chill for a melancholy soul.
It's a tear which cradles my soul and a grey that consumes me.
From this tear, from this grey, light shines out with much to say.
The summer sunshine drips with joy,
Spring colors excite our souls,
Winter snow waters reflection.
But Autumn, here, reflects me close.
The gloomy sky looks deep into my eye,
It dampens the Earth and in reflection, I cry.
But darkness is not what these tears want to bring;
It's colors far brighter, far more vibrant than spring.
From a salty cheek my own colors grow.
Just as Autmn's gloom sets in, the trees prepare a show.
They set themselves on fire with passion and fervor,
even as they sit so still,
so strong,
they sing a deepness in their song.
Through the leaves, through the trees, the gre sky and soggy evenings,
My soul reflects the contrast of this Earth in grey Autumn seasons.
Once again I find myself in a melancholy world,
feeding off the chill for a melancholy soul.
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