Stumbling Around in The Light

Light At The End of The Tunnel

There were dark days this winter.

Endless mornings of bitter cold and dim light; wishing I could stay curled up in bed and avoid the drudgery of housework, chasing after little ones, laundry, bills, home school lessons...  Each day so much the same as the one before, mind-numbing with repetitiveness.

Nothing to complain about; everything to be thankful for.  But gratitude evaded me.  The bitterness of a critical spirit kept my teeth on edge and my head aching with disappointment, resentment, exhaustion.  

I slept for hours, yet never rested.  Painted on a happy-holidays smile, but remained hollow inside.  Lost the motivation to get up, get out, get along with anyone or anything. Heart sickness drug me down, deeper & deeper, until physical sickness took hold.  Strep, flu, sinus infection...

I left the doctor's office with a prescription for antibiotics, and a strange new diagnosis: S.A.D.  (No kidding, doc - I'm sad.  Tell me something I don't know!)  A step beyond the winter blues, Seasonal Affective Disorder can you leave you feeling lethargic, tearful, apathetic, depressed.  And it all made sense - the chilling lowlight of winter sun in our mountain home, depletion of immunity-building vitamin D in my body, cold temperatures keeping me indoors & away from sun exposure & exercise & alone time & prayer...

I was suffering from lack of sun exposure, no doubt.  And along with that -
I was suffering from lack of Son exposure.

I would crawl into bed at night and cry to my husband:
"There's just no light at the end of the tunnel!"

From November thru February, the bleak words repeated in my head, tumbled hopelessly from my lips:
"Just. no. light. at the end of the tunnel."

Darkness so black, so endless, I couldn't see my hand in front of my face.

And then the Cross crashed in.

No, not with blinding light or burning bushes...
the cross crashed in with a simple, quiet voice in my head:

You don't need to see the light at the end of the tunnel; 
You just need to have faith it's there. 

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
--  Hebrews 11:1

It was still dark.  I didn't see the light. But I believed it was there.

And maybe with a little help from vitamin D supplements, and working with a counselor, and forcing myself to get outside...
things got brighter, bit by teeny-tiny bit.

We got over a foot of snow this past weekend.  It was so cold, cloudy, dim.
But today dawned bright & sunshiny warm.

There will still be dark days.  Days when I've gotta choose to have faith in that Light I can't see.  But for now,

there's Light at the end of the tunnel.


 
How has your winter been? Need to believe for that unseen Light at the end of your tunnel? 

Unremarkable Me

I've spent years striving to be remarkable.

Ever grasping for brightness, for that always-out-of-reach glow.
Not just another dancer; I wanted more than corps-de-ballet.
Didn't settle for singing in the choir; I had to become the soloist.

English class? Nothing but straight A's & top honors.
Poetry contest? I'll win that scholarship, thank-you-very-much.
Stage productions? A leading role, or I'll move on to another company!

My marriage had to be fairy-tale bliss; my children the picture of perfection & delight. 
Gotta stay fit & trim,
keep the house tidy,
impress the in-laws,
please the friends: 
keep working, working,
working to be,
remarkable me!

Wholly crap, people.  I'm exhausted.

And I've finally figured out what you've known all along...

I'm ordinary.

Unremarkable.

So much wasted time & energy, trying to shine, trying to be so special, so radiant. But the real me? All by myself?  I'm kinda dull & weary.  Crabby, controlling, critical.

Ironically, most of my works are faith-related. 
To be a godly wife, a devoted mother, above-rubies and all that.
The Proverbs 31 woman, y'know? 
Okay, except without the up-at-dawn part.  But even there, we all feel a little guilty for it, don't we?  Sleeping in?  Not getting up to knit socks & make five-course breakfasts before the sun rises?  I mean, seriously, who can measure up???

What a relief to discover I don't have to. I never will.

God didn't create me to be perfect, only to be perfected.

What a relief to discover I'm not supposed to be remarkable after all.  Ordinary is just the place He wants me to be:

Clearing breakfast dishes with a toddler on my hip.
Endlessly picking up Legos from the living room floor.
Driving my daughter to & from youth group.
Laughing at the antics of my boys on the trampoline.
Scowling & scolding when it turns into a wrestling match.
Bending, cleaning, reaching, cooking, holding, fussing, loving.

Nothing remarkable about it.

And yet...
Everything remarkable about it.

The remarkable of what God has done.

With ordinary me, He has brought forth this home of laughter & struggle & heartbreak & repentance & forgiveness & love, so much Love.
Through ordinary me, He birthed these 7 amazing children; filled with imperfections & beauty & fun & frustration & redemption & love, so much Love.
Despite ordinary me, He grows a marriage, from roots of control & fear, to branches of commitment, and blossoms of hope & humility & vulnerability & courage & love, so much Love.

I've not been created for perfection, only for perfecting.

How strange that I've spent years striving to be remarkable for God.
So backwards!
He is the only remarkable in me. 

Ordinary, unremarkable me.

Oh, but with Jesus in me!
With letting go,
trusting; unafraid
I may begin to see
the ordinary, unremarkable in me
is really something special after all.

"...so they should seek the Lord, in the hope that they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and have our being..."

 

Linking up with Lisa-Jo and Five-Minute-Friday.
And just for the record...I always cheat. The basic writing might take 5 minutes, but yeah, I go back & edit & add links & all that jazz.  Still tryin' too hard to be remarkable, I know.  So c'mon, cut me some slack. I'm in recovery, 'kay???