No, this has nothing to do with Michael J. Fox, Christopher Lloyd, or any of the other actors whose names I just "remembered" thanks to Google.
I suppose it does have a bit to do with preserving myself, and with time travel... But even those things aren't really the thing that's hard pressing on my mind -- on ME -- these days.
In so many ways, I feel like an infant again.
And in this same moment, and in this same breath... I feel so incredibly old.
Back to infancy...and into the future of age, and a growing awareness of what this life is and has been and (in general terms) what it will be.
It's been a really long year. I never imagined depression would stick around for this long, even though I suppose I knew it was a possibility. I didn't know that "getting used to" depression isn't really possible: it evolves in such a way that it's different daily, weekly, monthly. You can't change that or avoid it; it merely is, and you learn to take each day as it comes and to live in the midst of whatever that is. You can't control depression; you can merely control how you react to it, and how you reach out for support in the midst of it.
Old demons that I'd thought were banished for good have returned, and they're supposedly happy to stick around for a while. After a while it's hard to fight against them, and it's hard to remember that their voice isn't HIS voice. Or even to care.
(Sometimes I feel like a bad Christian. Anyone else?)
(Welcome to being human, little one. We still have so much to learn.)
And yet His voice remains. My Jesus is still here, despite my waverings and wonderings and wanderings.
(Sometimes I forget that.)
And it is in this, especially, that I feel so very, very old and so very, very young. I've very literally had to re-learn to sleep through the night. (Sometimes that still doesn't happen.) I've had days where it's hard, not just mentally, but physically, to get up from my bed in the morning and keep going.
Sometimes, things hurt for no reason, like my heart has become stiff and arthritic.
Sometimes, I cry like a baby, unable to put words to my ache and my want, but knowing that that's the only way to express my own needs (needs?) and desires.
Sometimes life hurts for no reason.
Sometimes tears are necessary.
Sometimes helplessness is a good thing.
That doesn't mean I always like it.
That doesn't mean I EVER like it.
But that doesn't mean I'd change it.
(Does it?)
I'm so ready to be done with this season.
I'm tired, worn, broken, faltering, doubting, flailing, struggling to keep the faith in a meaningful way. (It's as though even that has returned to infancy, too, in a way...)
But.
But God.
Those words that always change everything...
But God wouldn't keep me here if He didn't have a purpose for it -- a GREATER purpose than "normalcy" (whatever normalcy is), than happiness (and what is happiness?), than my ideals would fulfill.
He is greater than this, has already overcome this, is working even this -- my struggles, my doubts, my fears -- together for good, because I DO love Him. As much as I am humanly capable, and as much as He fills me with His own love... I love Him.
And that is my Hope.
That this will end someday, yes -- but that is merely hope.
It is a good hope, but it is not HOPE.
Hope has another name,
and that Name is Jesus.
If I must be dependent on someone or something (and oh, I am...), let it be Him. (Please, let it be You.) Because if this season lasts til the day I die, I'll at least get to run straight into Love's arms and claim my Hope for eternity.
I already have, really.
And a hundred years, give or take a decade, is nothing compared to an infinity with Him.
"Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these..."
So.
This year, I'm not resolving to go on some weird diet, or to do X, Y, and Z by June 27th at 3:09 p.m. Not that there's anything wrong with that (and I'd certainly love to get back in running shape), but that really can't be my priority right now. And it won't be if He's not.
That said, my resolution this year is to hope. To hope that this season will end, but mostly to hope in the greatest Hope that there is, and to fix my eyes on Him.
(Would You help me, Love?)
I'm also resolving to do less instead of more. To accept imperfection. To rest intentionally and often.
Happy 2014, all.
Even if it's not all easy (or easy at all), I do believe it's going to be a good one.
