A Wet, Woolen Coat
There are countless friends today choosing to get up this morning, to get dressed. They sit and stare for a bit, they drink strong coffee or tea. And then fight hard to stand up and walk out into this life. They don't especially want to. They can't seem to rally it. There is sadness all over them that they can't label. They keep trying to fight it off, self-talk it off, but it stays on them like a wet, woolen coat. They have this conversation going on inside: "Come on. Just get in the flow of it. Its just a conversation with another person. Walk some more steps. We've got this. Come on kid. I know you can do this. God, help me find me. Help me wake up." Somedays are better than others. Some have chemical issues. Some just can't figure out their sadness. Some are trapped in woundedness and don't know a way home. Mostly, I'm thinking today of the ones able to carry on with life, but they can't figure out why. They just want to get to bed, somewhere around two in the afternoon. You might tell them to think on happy things or be thankful for what they have, list them one by one. They do everything you tell them, but their coat is still dragging and getting caught on edges. When you're in that place nothing seems to drive out the thick, smokey, alienating haze. I only know I have visited that place. You have identified yourself and we have waved kindly to each other. ...You are not alone. And you are not wrong. And you are not estranged, or forgotten. This is not your fault. You are the best kind of heroic. Because what you are going through is invisibile to most. Christ sees and is proud beyond words. He is not playing you. I don't know why everyone doesn't just get better. I know it has to do with a garden and sin and evil, and disease and timing and everything. Even God does not like the answers He has to give. But He does love whispering words about what He is doing today, right smack in the middle of your trudging. He is redeeming every moment, giving sense to every time you shake your head, trying to rattle something free. And He is walking with you, saying kindly and intimately, "I know you feel dull, uninspired and behind. But I also know how to walk this slowly. You don't have to be afraid of those times, alone with your thoughts that try to declare you are losing it. I'm holding you when they come rushing at you. Don't try to reason with them. Just call out my Name. Put on music you love. Talk to me. About anything. I've cleared my schedule for only you. I'm in no hurry. You don't have to worry. Nothing you cherish will be lost by the authentic expression of your life, even at this speed. I'm here. This pace and this lack of clarity does not define you. There is something embedded, so unchangable and true, that cannot be shaken. It might be nice for you to know that we can all still see it."