Coming Out Of Darkness

Yesterday, my friend wrote about being calm while stressed. About letting God hold you up when the stress of the world threatens to drown you. As I read her good words I felt a familiar frustration build in me and my face looked disconcerted.

I've been very angry with my pastor's sermons lately. Not because they're wrong, but because they're right and I just don't want to hear it. The sermons have been about forgiveness and trust and faith. They are dirty words in my head.

I feel like I used to be calm under stress. I used to be very content. I use to be hard to fluster. I was a roll-with-it kind of girl. But, oh my, after so much rolling I feel a bit dizzy. I'm not really angry with the people I mentioned above or with what they are saying. I'm angry with me and the circumstances that have led me to the dark hole I'm in. And I'd like to stay here, thank you very much. So I'd like it if everyone stopped trying to prompt me out of it. Only I don't really. I'm sort of done with dark and depressing. Or I'd like to be.

The one who says he loves me despite the pain wrote me a letter. I've read it every day this week. He says I'm not a failure. He says I'm allowed to be discouraged. He says I am good. He wrote it down so that I'd remember.

The One who loves me despite my lack of faith wrote me a letter. I've read it every day this week. He says don't be afraid. He says be encouraged. He says He is good. He wrote it down so that I'd remember.

I read these things and I know it's time to calm my anxious heart. It's time to lose the anger and deal with what's making me angry. It's time to meditate out the depressing and stop clinging to it like a warm blanket. Easy words to write, not easy to live. So what do I do when I need to pull myself out of my darkness? I curl up in bed with a brown-eyed baby or two or three and we watch Tom and Jerry. They make me laugh. And I feel I have accomplished more in that moment than I have in the entire week.