‘Twas the night before Thanksgiving and I can’t sleep. This is a regular occurrence these days. Either I can’t shut my mind off, or I fall asleep and my heart wakes to everything I feel dead to during the day and my dreams leave me feeling exhausted when I wake up. I’ve been here before. Over the past few months I’ve withdrawn from things and people I care about. My heart simply isn’t there. And when my heart is involved, it hurts.
In trying to deal with this depression on my own, I’ve only crashed and burned. I recently spoke with a friend who encouraged me to see a counselor. The thought absolutely terrified me. I’d been before, and had horrible experiences each time. Why would this be any different? I’m not really sure what changed in my heart that made me agree other than sheer exhaustion. I’m tired of feeling nothing for the blessings in my life where I should feel something. There is an underlying sadness that I just don’t want anymore.
My weeks have been filled with days that are purely survived and nothing more. Some days I feel numb and others I feel too much. There is no real balance and more often than not the result is a person who desperately wants to happy and understood, but it comes across all wrong. The lies of this world cloud my head and heart on a constant basis and to combat them I’ve made myself busy. And that busyness turned things that I loved into things that I dread.
What I’ve come to realize is that by filling every moment of my day with something, I’ve begun to leave out the most important part. God. How can I possibly deal with “life” if I can’t just be still with the One who can deal with my junk. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Be still and know that He is God. To know is to trust. To trust that the Creator of everything can heal even the deepest hurts. To trust that this life isn’t worthless, or He wouldn’t have sacrificed his son.
These are things I know, things I believe with everything that I am. But getting my head and heart on the same page is entirely different. My desire to control what isn’t mine to control is a battle. My prayer is to learn to let go. To accept the plans God has for my life with joy and thankfulness. I’m not there yet, but I want to be. Maybe that is the difference this time.
As the clock ticks into the wee hours of our day of Thanks, I can’t help but reflect on this year. Instead of focusing more on the disappointments and hurts, tonight I will choose to be thankful. Truly thankful. For friends that have become family. For that family refusing to let me run and hide from what is a beautiful life to live. For opportunities to love people I never would have loved without God pushing me out of my comfort zone. For the roof over my head, the car I drive, and job I have to pay for everything. For a church whose pastors and staff display Christ’s love in tangible forms on a daily basis. For friends who tattoo mustaches on their fingers, friends who have a heart to change the lives of orphans, and friends who embrace their passions in such a way that the world is ignited with inspiration. For my mom, who listened to me ramble on far too long last weekend at the purchase of a Christmas tree. For my dad, who always humored me and made clothing for my stuffed animals so they would be warm. Not a Thanksgiving goes by that I don’t wish for one more with you.
I’m thankful. I’m hopeful. I’m blessed in so many ways. Thank you, Father, for never giving up on me when I get lost and can’t find my way. Your love is the brightest star I could ever follow.
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