Archive for the The Journey Category

This morning dawned dark, foggy and spooky. I have to use the work spooky because tomorrow is Halloween, but it really did feel spooky. I drove down Florissant Road and was struck by how difficult it was to see the road, even with the streetlights. And then I saw them, dark shapes shuffling across the pavement. These spectral anomalies were barely visible but as I got closer I saw that they were merely teenagers, risking their lives to get to school. Brave souls!

The highway was shrouded with thick clouds and felt otherworldly. With the sun absent, I found it difficult to gather my bearings. From high above the slick streets I saw strange, UFO shaped lights blaring through the milky film. Were we getting visitors from another planet? No, they are the street lights that hover over Highway 270. Normally these lights go unnoticed. I mean to say, I appreciate how they illuminate the street but never actually look at the lights themselves. But with the fog, they were startling. They peered through the mist with bright rays that reached out like tendrils. I admit it took a great deal of willpower to turn my eyes back to the road so I didn’t crash my car.

This morning I had a completely different perspective on my way to work. The darkness combined with thick fog transformed my morning commute. It reminded me that often my perspective changes when hardship descends on my life. If a simple change in lighting can change the way I see things, how much more potent is emotional darkness?

When we are despairing, everything feels heavier. Simple joys are beyond our comprehension and pain is like thick, heavy fog. It distorts our vision and we can’t see things we once thought were true. Happiness and contentment are like the blue sky and white fluffy clouds, gone. Even though we know they exist, they don’t register.

In these moments of clarity I remember that God is like the streetlights. He is always there. But I see him differently through the lens of pain. I’m content when he is lighting the way and rarely look up to say “thanks!” But when things go sour, that light gets a little spooky. It is alien, even threatening. I am not ashamed to say it even makes me angry. I shake my fists at the sky and say, “What the heck? My life is supposed to be smooth sailing. I don’t like this fog!”

But have you ever risen on a blue sky sunny morning after a long period of rain? What goes through your mind? I always think, “How beautiful! How lovely! I am so glad to see the sun again.” And my heart lifts with joy. It seems trite to say we can’t enjoy the sun without a little rain. But I find it rings true. Dark, foggy mornings don’t last forever. The sun burns them away post haste. And this morning I thought to myself, “Emotional darkness is the same. When the time is right, God will burn it away. I just have to trust him.”

Also, the perspective I glean while moving through pain is priceless. I find that I learn the most important lessons when I walk through seasons of pain and hardship. I carry this knowledge with me to use for future hardship. And when I encounter other souls who are suffering, I can share these lessons as well. But most importantly, I find that I encounter the great love of Jesus most intimately when I am suffering. This is a mystery to me but something I feel in my body so potently it cannot be denied, even if people think I’m strange.

I am 1.5 days into sacrificing my favorite foods to see if it will help my body feel better. I am hopeful. I see a little speck of light in the darkness. One step at a time, one moment to the next, I am trusting the sun is still out there and one day I will experience white fluffy clouds again. The good news is, God is with me. I sense him in ways I can’t explain. And I am glad.

The affect that food has on our bodies cannot be overestimated. It is the fuel that feeds our cells. As such, what we put into our mouths matters. Everyone knows this on some basic level. As such, many people joke about junk food by saying, “I know it’s not good for me, but I’m going to eat it anyway.” This statement is usually followed by a nervous chuckle. But how many people actually take the time to analyze how food affects their bodies? We have become accustomed to popping pills (i.e. anti-acids) because we don’t want to face the truth about foods that hurt us. It usually takes a life-altering event to make us examine our diet.

Food can be the mechanism by which we console ourselves when life is ugly. Therefore diet is the last thing we want to examine when we are suffering. If suffering is the megaphone through which God speaks, food is the mechanism by which I tune Him out.

At this point, it’s not about how much weight I’ve gained, but rather, how I seem to have lost all control over what I put into my mouth. Not only what I eat, but what I want to eat. It has consumed my thought life to such an extent that I can’t bear it. I have tried to eat this feeling away but it only increases my suffering. And granted there are other external stimuli that I won’t share here but I feel compelled to do something drastic to take control of my body. 3 ice cream cones every night isn’t fixing me.

We can have the best intentions and still flail. But today, I have prayerfully committed to cut several things out of my diet. Part of this decision is in response to the crippling depression(which is aggravated by intense sugar intake). I want to know if eliminating these things will help me feel better. Another part of me wants to lay these things at the altar of self-conceit and say, “I have no power but that which God gives me and I’m going to trust Him to help me” if for no other reason than putting myself first has not been working.

But rather than focus on what I can’t have, I am instead choosing to discover some foods I have not tried before. I have decided to have fun and reinvent my diet. And I am committing to this for 2 weeks. I may or may not report as I go through these two weeks, depending on how I feel. But I will report at the end of the two weeks. And I am not going to cheat.

One minute, one hour, one day at a time. Sometimes this is all we can and should plan for. We never know when this day will be our last. And it can be very overwhelming to think about cutting things out “forever.” Also, I choose not to focus on the suffering, but rather, on my response to it. And by golly, today, I feel empowered.

Who is with me? Can anyone make a commitment to cut something from their lives that they are very attached to? Something that is hurting them in some fundamental way? Not forever…just 2 weeks. And replace it with something beneficial? A grapefruit? 15 minutes of exercise? An avocado! A smile for the person that perpetually scowls at you at work? And then report back on November 13th? Maybe you could sacrifice a negative attitude or your quick temper and replace it with a banana? Goofy, I know. But symbolism is powerful.

Today is Tuesday, October 29th. And it is a beautiful, courageous, and fruitful day. Today, I replaced ice cream with pepper/lime cashews. And it was totally worth it.

Winter has descended like a cold smack to the face. I was irritated as I dug through the attic this morning, trying to find a winter coat. And then, while clutching the steering wheel with my frozen fingers, because who knows where in the world my gloves are, the reality of the dark and dreary days ahead hit me. I can’t escape. I am going to have to walk through winter, like it or not.

It would be easy in this situation to put on my “grumpy face” and scowl at everyone I meet. I mean, I’m suffering here. When winter hits, the only exposure to the sunshine I receive is on the weekends. This does not bode well for someone with seasonal affective disorder. My whole mood declines in the winter, and not just for one day. So when cheery people stop by my cube at work I have to resist the urge to poke them in the eye.

Even worse I’m totally burned out on exercise and on my healthy diet. I need to shake things up but can’t seem to find the time to plan. So I keep doing crunches, and walking, and I sigh a lot. But this morning I realized something, my world may not be filled with sunshine and spring flowers but that doesn’t mean I need to have a miserable winter. I simply need to go treasure hunting. There are glimmers of hope and joy everywhere. I just have to dig a little harder.

Last weekend I was desperate to be outside. So I took my family to the park with the sole intent of getting out to the wing dams on the Missouri River to look for arrow heads. All kinds of things wash up there and I never know what I will find. Of course, the paths were all overgrown(waist-high) and there was “quick sand” (mud) but we persevered and made it. And what a delight it was.

Wing dams are made up of limestone and constructed by the Army Corps of Engineers. They are built to slow down the river for barge traffic. From afar they are unsightly and the Missouri Department of Conservation objects to them because they interfere with the natural habitat of the river. But aside from all of that, they are fascinating. We spent some time combing through the rocks and crevices. I kept finding pieces of glass and exclaiming “Sea glass!” only for my husband to say, “river glass!” Smooth pieces of glass brushed smooth by the waves is “sea glass” to me. And, it gives me the feeling that I’m at the ocean instead of a muddy old river. We found many pieces of petrified wood, which is a great treasure! And while we didn’t find any arrow heads, I came away with my pockets jangling and a fossilized jawbone(with teeth!) of some unfortunate beast. All in all, a good time was had by all. Until we realized walking in was the easy part.

My youngest is diabetic and had low blood sugar. Even though we had a treat, he was unable to walk through the tall weeds due to fatigue and weakness. I hoisted him on my back and carried him out. And that is when I realized, once again, how glad I am to be healthy. I can carry my 50 pound child when he can’t carry himself.

There will always be bleak times in my life. And I can choose to focus on the dark and ungainly, or I can go on a treasure hunt. I can and should look for the beautiful things in life and focus intently on their splendor for that is certainly better than wallowing in the muck of despair.

How about you? Feeling down in the dumps because the days are shorter and colder? How about a treasure hunt? I put my mementos on my desk at work in a special dish my boss picked up in Tanzania. And every time I look at them I’m encouraged. Remembering a beautiful day with my family is a treasure indeed.