I am not quite sure what to make of this season of my life.  In all honesty, it feels super vulnerable to put it all out there.  The judgement.  But, there is this very clear season of my life when I have been clearly detached of all those I love closest.  A fog.  Few emotions.  Lots of sadness.  I try to suck it up, keep it in, but the lines under my eyes give me away.  Tears often wiped as I trudge through my days.  And months.  And years.  And, with all this time, here I am still behind.  Time.

Time is precious.  I have very little of it.  There is always something, a place, a project, a holiday, a birthday, a business, a lesson.  I am always behind.  My house shows it.  My children and husband feel it.  I try to get up, do the basic things, make a pattern, because without one, I go in circles.  I pace.  Just like my dad would in the old Slyter Sales building.  Circles, mumbling to himself, too much on his plate, stress building.  I am a mess inside.

Treading water for a really long time.  Tired.  Kinda drowning.

One day I think I’m okay and the scriptures fall on my ears with joy and ease and I am thankful and life is okay.  And then, one small disappointment and my days are shattered.  Too thin skinned.  Too vulnerable.  Too weak.  I hate that I can’t handle it all and bring self-inflicted chaos into my own life.  The voices hit hard and suddenly I am worthless.

The anxiety runs deep inside my bones.  So ashamed of it.  It weighs me down heavy.  Public is hard.  It is medicated and forced and surprises me when it’s easy.  And, if anyone is surprised by what I say, know this, it is only by the grace of God and His strength that I get through the day at all.  Answering the phone is hard.  I know, stupid, right?

I don’t know what day it is most times.  Number or letter or both.  I’m striving for organization so life will be easier, and making organization, makes a mess first.  I found an app on my phone for making a memo.  I felt so fancy.  I made a “to-do” list.  So far, it only grows.   Nothing gets checked off.  I don’t even like opening that app now because I feel more behind than organized.  Feeling pretty destined to kinda suck at life.  It would be easier to stay positive if it weren’t for the chronic, growing pain.

Everyday is a battle for physical comfort.  Medicating all throughout the day.  Whether it is MS or SPS, the stiff muscles are growing tighter with time.  Slowly the spasms are starting.  I take them in stride.  Walking has been great for a few months and the lower back has been eased up for a few weeks.  The fatigue is a hard battle, but I have been making it through long days without naps.  It must be the prayers.

Prayers.  My prayer life has changed.  “Speak to me, Lord, your servant is listening.”

Trying to listen.  Trying to figure this Jesus guy out.

I have enough distance in my walk with God now, that I know when there is pain, confusion, chaos in life, God is going to use it for something in the future.  It won’t go unjustified.  Knowing that gives me hope, but it doesn’t always seem quite relevant when I am in the fire.  I cry even though I want to be brave.

Brave like my mom.  Fighting cancer so long and so hard.  Makes it look easy.  Nothing about recurrent cancer is easy.  Every time you brace yourself.  Every time you go through this roller coaster of fear and physical and emotional stress.  Reacting to the cancer, fighting the cancer, trying to regain life after the cancer.  This time the cancer is not treatable in Idaho and you’ll have to find your own way.  What do you say to that?

There are no words sometimes.  I’ve heard that a reason for drowning is that you can’t scream for help.  You’re physically treading water and then gasping for air and water starts filling your lungs where air used to be.  Nobody knows.

Sometimes, nobody knows that people are emotionally and mentally drowning because the bad stuff comes in and you still have to cope, and you can’t get it all out and keep going at the same time.  And, if you got it out, the bad stuff would come out too, and that’s too hard.  So you just keep trying and nobody knows the suffering inside.

If there is any point in sharing this today, it is to say, that if there is anything good that you see in me, it is because of the mercy of God and the gift of the Spirit.  Inside, I am a true mess.  I understand the suffering of depression and anxiety because I am there!  It is only by the grace of God that I am a somewhat functioning adult.  It is only because I made a choice to seek Him and stayed obedient to saturate myself in His Word, that I feel I am protected in this storm and remain buoyant at all in this sea of sadness.  Amen.