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Showing posts with label melancholy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label melancholy. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Beauty Through Tears

I can distinctly remember the first words I said to my firstborn child. I have watched them a number of times on a less than stellar home video now almost 19 years old. I didn't greet her by name. I didn't say some welcome message I'd practiced beforehand. I didn't sing a song.

I looked down into that face I didn't recognize but knew would forever change my life and said, "It's ok. You can cry. Go ahead and cry. It's ok, darlin'."

Now before I wax eloquent on any inner meanings of these words, I think I was just telling Olivia I wanted her to be sure to cry loud and proud for the sheer health of it in being a newborn and exercising her lungs and all. I did read lots of books while awaiting her arrival after all! Didn't want that mountain of information to go to waste.

Yet what I can't help but see in those first words to my oldest was an assurance her tears were ok. Crying was not something to be held back -- though the idea of a newborn holding back tears is essentially preposterous.

Unlike the classic newborn, I have spent many years holding back tears. I have found the idea of having a good cry to be a great one in theory. Unfortunately the practice of unleashing tears is far less simple.

Seems to me that tears are often treated as more of a joke than a cleansing emotion. We often tease about the "ugly cry"and faux mock those who have one in order to maintain our own sense of "holding it together" or "saving face" to some extent.

I'm definitely in that camp more often than not. Frequently, I have shrugged off the need for a cry by flippantly declaring "If I start crying, I don't know how I would ever stop." Some days I do wonder what I would do if I completely let go and cried over all I have experienced in my journey.

I guess that's why the verse above reached out and grabbed me today when I was contemplating an aspect of beauty I wanted to overlook. I didn't want to talk about my tears. I didn't want to think about how my ability to leave a trail of beauty isn't marred but rather shaped and texturized by the tears I have shed.

Tears hold no shame. Crying offers release and relief. Most importantly, from my tiny little view of the world, God is alert to my tears and each of the reasons for them. He doesn't miss a one of them and collects them in a "bottle". My tears have meaning and purpose. God finds me beautiful in the midst of them and tenderly cares for me while I cry. My God cares so much for me that His word can completely diffuse those thoughts I shared about never being able to stop crying once I start:

"For his anger lasts only a moment,
    but his favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may stay for the night,
    but rejoicing comes in the morning."
 
Psalm 30:5 (NIV)

If that one doesn't make a difference or ease my anxiety, certainly this one packs a punch of its own:
 

"God will take away all their tears. There will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All the old things have passed away.” 
Revelation 21:4

The tears will stop. He promises it. I can cry knowing it will not last forever.

So when I came here today, I didn't necessarily intend share about what I consider a vulnerable place full of tears, but instead God confirmed that beauty can indeed be found there. Not only can beauty be found, He meets me there. He meets you in your place of tears too. Find fantastic writing here.

On His Adventure~

Pam



Monday, October 6, 2014

I Don't Feel Like It

What do I do when I just don't feel like making sure I am leaving a trail of beauty wherever I go? 

What do I do when I would rather crawl back under the covers and hide my head from the events of the day, the week, the month, the upcoming year? 

What do I do when the events of the past several years threaten to undo me and the words of Jeremiah seem like my own? (Lamentations 1:16)

I am your classic melancholy personality. It is a conscious effort for me to see the glass half full or overflowing every. Single. Day. I have been told this kind of personality feeds the creative side of my self. The art I produce and the whimsy I dabble in on a regular basis come from the melancholy segment of my soul.


I talk a big game about living life ridiculously and skipping through public places -- and I do those things with great glee some days. Others -- not so much.

At times a dark, heavy cloud overtakes me and smooshes me under it while I claw, gnash my teeth, and gasp for air in order to resurface and reassess my surroundings with a new found admiration for those who endure the depths of despair on a daily basis.

I am comforted by the life of the author and perfecter of faith. He is called a Man of Sorrows. He withdrew  frequently to refresh Himself and to be alone with His Father. My own struggle is eased in knowing He chose to showcase the struggles of His followers all throughout Scripture. 

Lamentations is a whole book about the woes of Jerusalem from Jeremiah's perspective. He wept throughout the telling. Psalms is full of its own lengthy coverage of tears and sadness as David poured his heart out on the page again and again. These prominent figures in our life's manual from our precious Heavenly Father were not unacquainted with grief, with sorrow, and dare I say it? With depression. While each of them also wrote about great joy at knowing God, they also spent plenty of time discussing their deep despair and days where laying on a mat or shaking their fists felt far more freeing than singing another chorus of "Kum Ba Yah".

Beauty and sorrow mingle together. Grey clouds blot out the sun. I am no less a child of God or Princess of the King on days when I cannot see Him through the fog, summon up the strength to praise loudly or sing a happy tune. 

Some days are just like that. 

What I am grateful for on those days is His assurance that envelops me and gives me courage to keep close to Him in the midst of my darkest thoughts. I know His words, and most times I can cling to them in spite of the feelings that threaten to pitch me to a place of abandonment or thinking I am forsaken.

If you ever struggle to see the beauty in the midst of dark days, I encourage you to try to do what the verse on the photo says. Be still. I can't guarantee anything as a result, but I can with all confidence tell you the rest of that verse is as true as anything God has told us . . . He will assuredly fight for us. That brings me comfort. 

If this post has left you wanting . . . Go here.

On His Adventure through it all~

Pam