Grace for another day
Seasons of pain
Seasons of struggle
Of gut-wrenching anxiety, confusion, depression...
No one likes those.
I sure as heaven don't.
Yet, it's about that time.
It HAS been about that time, for a while now.
But wait, can Christians get depressed?
How is that even possible?!
Don't they rest in the unchanging embrace of a loving, heavenly Father who loved them enough as to give his own life to save theirs?
Yes, that is true indeed.
However, these past few months I have been shown how much of a weak human being I am.
More than ever before in my entire life.
This is not a depressing post, is not intended to be one anyway, but rather a way of communicating with my brothers and sisters, and everyone, really, how weak I am.
Why?
So that is even clearer how awesome God is.
These months have been nothing but a struggle.
A gigantic push into the scary and lonely life of an adult.
Finishing school (for now),
Getting married,
Moving away from family and friends,
Living alone for the very first time,
On my own,
Away from my husband, while I wait what it seems like forever until we can be together again...
In the mean time, everything looks gray, and ok days turn into awful days, and then back to ok and back to awful. Never good. Never great.
And I know, I know that there is more ahead than what I can see right now with my blurry vision. I know and want to believe that the best is yet to come, as those crazy people who call themselves optimists say.
I've always considered myself a pessimist, or a realist at best.
I don't see rainbows in the middle of the storm and the glass is always, always half empty in my eyes.
However, it wasn't until recently that someone brought to my attention something that even though I don't want it to be true, it is actually completely truthful:
The Gospel makes us all optimists.
Think about it.
The God of the universe reached down to love us instead of condemning us, giving of Himself completely, and still today cares for us and guides us and waits for us to come home. And we, like toddlers in the middle of a tantrum, that do not want to be held or fed, still refuse his love, yet He continues to pour it out, unconditionally.
So even though I always see the worst.
Even though the nights are terrible, and the afternoons and the mornings...
Even though this season of waiting , of loneliness, of pain in my life seems like it will never end, even though I struggle, I am still alive.
I still have purpose
I'm still loved by the Author of Love.
There is hope.
Even though I don't feel hopeful, there is hope.
And my struggle is a sign that I still have a little strength to go on, I haven't given up.
When I get to the very end of my strength, I hold on to Him,
And another day comes.
Like rays of sunshine breaking through the clouds after a storm.
Right now that's good enough.
Another day.
Another chance.
Grace for one more day.
One more...
Seasons of struggle
Of gut-wrenching anxiety, confusion, depression...
No one likes those.
I sure as heaven don't.
Yet, it's about that time.
It HAS been about that time, for a while now.
But wait, can Christians get depressed?
How is that even possible?!
Don't they rest in the unchanging embrace of a loving, heavenly Father who loved them enough as to give his own life to save theirs?
Yes, that is true indeed.
However, these past few months I have been shown how much of a weak human being I am.
More than ever before in my entire life.
This is not a depressing post, is not intended to be one anyway, but rather a way of communicating with my brothers and sisters, and everyone, really, how weak I am.
Why?
So that is even clearer how awesome God is.
These months have been nothing but a struggle.
A gigantic push into the scary and lonely life of an adult.
Finishing school (for now),
Getting married,
Moving away from family and friends,
Living alone for the very first time,
On my own,
Away from my husband, while I wait what it seems like forever until we can be together again...
In the mean time, everything looks gray, and ok days turn into awful days, and then back to ok and back to awful. Never good. Never great.
And I know, I know that there is more ahead than what I can see right now with my blurry vision. I know and want to believe that the best is yet to come, as those crazy people who call themselves optimists say.
I've always considered myself a pessimist, or a realist at best.
I don't see rainbows in the middle of the storm and the glass is always, always half empty in my eyes.
However, it wasn't until recently that someone brought to my attention something that even though I don't want it to be true, it is actually completely truthful:
The Gospel makes us all optimists.
Think about it.
The God of the universe reached down to love us instead of condemning us, giving of Himself completely, and still today cares for us and guides us and waits for us to come home. And we, like toddlers in the middle of a tantrum, that do not want to be held or fed, still refuse his love, yet He continues to pour it out, unconditionally.
So even though I always see the worst.
Even though the nights are terrible, and the afternoons and the mornings...
Even though this season of waiting , of loneliness, of pain in my life seems like it will never end, even though I struggle, I am still alive.
I still have purpose
I'm still loved by the Author of Love.
There is hope.
Even though I don't feel hopeful, there is hope.
And my struggle is a sign that I still have a little strength to go on, I haven't given up.
When I get to the very end of my strength, I hold on to Him,
And another day comes.
Like rays of sunshine breaking through the clouds after a storm.
Right now that's good enough.
Another day.
Another chance.
Grace for one more day.
One more...
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