I began writing this almost a year ago, in a period of deep sadness that had settled in. Life was knocking me around a bit, you could say. Or rather, I was allowing it to. Trying to roll with the punches. I had originally titled it The Sadness.
It crept in unaware when I was not looking. It wears many different masks to work its way in. First the mask of busyness to keep you occupied. This allows it to assess your heart. To see where the weakness lies. Will it be a moment of pride? Or maybe anger or jealousy? The more difficult to discern is righteousness and goodness. So subtle. Like a warm breeze barely discernible but definitely present. Busy about all the tasks that make one feel important through productivity.
Then the mask of deceit. This is a no holds barred approach. Again, looking for your weaknesses. Insecurity? Perfect approach. Those words you spoke or thought yesterday? How could you? You’ve never been good at defending yourself, your beliefs. Pounced upon and feeling defeated. It comes in to haunt you and slowly erode your joy.
They were just words falling off the tips of my fingers onto a keyboard, unaware of the heart that was attached. Those were hard days, yet I managed to muddle through them. Unharmed, or so I thought. I think it was mostly my two granddaughters that drug me along. We had moved in to our apartment about 9 hours away from where we live. We left the woods for the city. I’m not a real city girl. It’s hard for me to find my place in them. They have lots of wonderful qualities, but the woods have for more to nourish me than any city. The ocean and the mountains are the same. I’m not partial to the woods. Just the out of doors. Words for writing seem to come easily when I’m in quiet places.
I look back at these words written so long ago. So much has changed. I’m a different person. I’m still learning who I am. I turned 59 recently and I think it strange to be learning who you are at this age. Wasn’t that to have been done along the way or a long time ago? I know we’re always changing and evolving, but this is a different type of knowing. It’s deep. It requires solitude and time. Long walks and quiet evenings by candle light. Time in prayer and reading scripture. It has included what seems like endless podcasts learning how to self correct as I move through this world and just more about me, in general.
I think most people never consider time alone like this. It’s not always easy. It’s far easier to get busy doing things, visiting people, helping people, meeting a friend for coffee, the end of year harvest and putting up food for a later time. It’s certainly easy to pass a day. I’ve actually wondered where most of them have gone. Others have sat and taken me on, staring at me from across the room. It seems to ask, “Are you going to do anything of value today?”
I challenge back, “What is of value to you? To fill you with endless tasks, sliding into bed at the end of the day spent and a near empty to do list?”
So we sit and stare at each other. Me thinking of value and the day constantly challenging me. We have but a few precious moments on this earth, when we really stop and think about it. I’m amazed at how the days fly by, the months and years seemingly picking up pace as time goes on. It won’t slow down. I can take all the time I’d like to ponder value and that time is gone, never to be found again. And so it’s been with the past year. Not slowing down. Rather, it’s been careening past me. It doesn’t care to slow down because I’m sad and struggling. I’ve learned much about peace and contentment, joy and struggle. The dear love of friends who will listen to you process. I’ve learned anew the power of just sitting with others, because there have been one or two that have done that with me. Not trying to convince me of anything. Just letting me be, letting me figure it out as I wait on God. Waiting on God is about the only thing that has shown itself to have real value to me. When I try to take things in my own hands and push forward with what I think I need, I’m often caught up by the small whisper, “Where are you going, my child?”
“Why, over there, of course! Aren’t you coming?” That so many times has been my attitude. Yet, He reminds me to slow down. Be still. Be not afraid. Wait on Him. Lean not on my own understanding, but in all my ways acknowledge Him and He will direct my paths. And so, my sadness has come unmasked. I realize it was a mask I was never meant to wear. In a way, I created my sadness because I had given up my power. Not the type of power you can create. It’s a power given to each of us as image bearers of Christ. We too often opt to exchange what is given us for acceptance by another. We never need to do that because we are wholly accepted by Him. It’s counterintuitive to how most of us think. Most I know spend their days trying to be someone or do something to attain the acceptance of someone. A parent, lover, boss, friend, group…it’s endless those we could spend our time trying to gain their acceptance. It’s just too easy to be wholly accepted by our Creator. Doesn’t make sense. I know most of my failings, those close to me know all of them. But, He says He loves me and just wants to be with me. Loves when I come and just sit with Him. Usually I talk way too much. He’s patient. He knows I’m riddled with insecurity and a desire to please Him. He knows I don’t understand the mystery of simply being loved. Yet, I keep showing up, trying to figure it out. But, there’s really nothing to figure out. Doesn’t stop me from trying.
Recently, I got to thinking about some questions I heard posed. “What gift do you hold in exile?” That got me. We all have them. Some gifts are there for all to see like an accomplished pianist bringing delight to the soul without words, a painter who brings life to canvas, a bright mind that builds things we can use. Other gifts are not so readily seen. Sometimes we don’t even know what they are. We’ve buried them over the years. Always tending to others, ourselves withering slowly away. It doesn’t happen consciously. Rather, in the focus on others, we can forget we’ve been given our own gifts for our journey and work here on earth. That’s what the struggle can become. How does one give selflessly and yet, not lose oneself? How does one step into the harmony of their way of being and still stop to experience others? How do we express the music of our souls when we don’t know what that music is? I suppose some of these questions are silly to some, basic to others. But, they’ve got me thinking lately. Can our gift actually be born out of the pain we’ve experienced in this life?
I like what Thornton Wilder wrote. “Without your wounds where would your power be? It is your melancholy that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men and women. The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In Love’s service, only wounded soldiers can serve. Physician, draw back.”
I look back on my 59 years with a mixture of thankfulness and sorrow. Had I known then what I know now… But, I’ve also learned so much through my hardships. Some of them self induced, others just my turn to flip over the hardship card. Could my gift be buried amongst the pain somewhere? I do believe the answer to that question is “yes.” Growth happens amidst the adversity, the genuine pain. The angst that won’t loose its grip on you, no matter how sincere your request to be released from it. And so, I’ve come to understand I can unmask the sadness, observe it, receive what it has to offer. I don’t need to wear it like a garment that weighs me down. Rather, I can allow it to saturate my soul and teach me of the deep within. And, it has done just that. And within that, I have found a gift that is helping me with my journey and my work here on earth. I humbly accept the gift of sadness, accompanied with grief, allowing it to change me. For, not all gifts come in beautifully wrapped boxes.
❤️thank you for your kind words.
I Always treasure your gifts of thoughts and your writing. Thank you.❤️