Better Than Okay: Waiting for those Strawberry Days

A few weeks ago, I was inspired.
Smoothie after smoothie in the blender.
Bananas, apples, strawberries.
And the simple image of strawberries, prepared to be mixed, caused me to stop. To be still in the moment and enjoy completely.

And then, there are afternoons like this one.
Where the mere thought of smiling over strawberries was a far, far reach.

I was taken aback by the midday hours:
I slowly found myself tunneling into another of those sinking battles with depression.
With no understood reason, no circumstance that created this shift in my day, week.
Just falling into that ugly quicksand of despairing.

The afternoon grew into evening, and nothing plucked me out of the dim.

The time drew near to pack up for our Wednesday night church ministry, and my downward gaze was on my striped makeup bag, wondering if this was a week I should stay home.
Yet I felt that gentle inner tug to stand up and go.
Still not sure, I plucked up my undereye concealer from the bag and ever so slowly untwisted the cap. Then twisted it closed it, then repeated this over and over.
Upset that I was back in "this" place again, of listening to my dear family laughing and wrestling together in the very next room, but feeling mentally paralyzed to even glance up or shake my head with a smile at the sweet chaos.
Just twisting and untwisting. Again and again.

Until the minute came to choose.

To stay behind in the familiar comfort of these walls. And to keep up the foggy, wandering introspection.
Or to stand up. Pull on those brown leather boots, adjust my cherished Scotland scarf and reach beyond myself.
Silently, I grabbed the keys off the wall hanging and quietly nudged the boys to the van. Knowing within that the Need was to go, to breathe in the outside last-days-of-winter air and get my eyesight on the Need ahead of me.

The beautiful Need:
Our church has an AWANA program. With 200+ children and youth and adult leaders who gather together once a week.
Who gather together with open and eager hearts, eyes, ears, spirits:
To be taught and to learn of Jesus. Of the Bible. Of faith and salvation and heaven and life. To be cared for and shown love and guidance.
And these young ones come to us from countless backgrounds and circumstances: some lovely and nurturing; some terribly difficult and painful. But we gather together.
The children and youth have a Need to know Jesus and to be loved.
And it is the most beautiful, humbling, invigorating, life-giving opportunity to be a part of, to be immersed in for those few hours.
And that is exactly how it blessed me tonight.
In the giving, the listening, the caring, the answering, the laughing, the hugging, the smiling... my heart strengthened, my spirit began to soar.

To answer questions about my Jesus.
To repeat Jesus' words from the verses kids are learning.
To offer some kind of explanation about faith and heaven.
To encourage the hard work and unselfish support of each other.
To share how this program was part of my own life in those elementary-aged days (how learning the order of the Bible books way back when has stuck with me these 25+ years).
To congratulate a little boy with weighty family baggage, who finally earned his workbook and t-shirt.

These moments, these beautiful opportunities, offered from my own heart... regrouped my own heart and gave me back that inner smile.

(And then, to receive a handwritten note. Of true encouragement. Humbles, refocuses, causes gratitude beyond imagine.)

A theme in my mind this past week has been Bridges:

"Every time fear freezes and worry rises,

 Every time I surrender to stress,

 Aren't I advertising the unreliability of God, 

That I really don't believe. 

But if I am grateful for the Bridge Builder,  

For the crossing of a million strong bridges, 

Thankful for a million faithful moments,

 My life speaks my beliefs, 

And I trust Him again.

 I fearlessly cross the next bridge...

If the bridge shakes and heaves

and you feel like you're falling, remember this:

In Christ, we are always safe.

He holds."

(Ann Voskamp)

This afternoon-into-evening was absolutely a struggle for me.

Some of you have not been plagued with this kind of hardship in your days:
Be grateful! Be sensitive. Be a light to those who are needing light.

Some of you have day-by-day walked through this battle:
There is purpose in it. Along the road. Shaping us into deeply precious, refined-through-the-desperate-times, Brave souls. We may get angry about this battle, we may grow oh-so weary, we may want to close our eyes to it all...

But I must remember this night of AWANA: When giving of my broken self healed a bit of this broken self.
And you must search and imprint those moments in your own story: When you recall that bit of healing and courage in your own inner battle.

And, yes:

"There is

always,

always

something
to be thankful for."

(Anonymous)