Drought.
That's the word that comes to mind when I think of the last year and a half.
It's been a challenge for me to be positive for at least that long. There are so many aspects of our circumstances that have been frustrating, sometimes daily. There are things I wish I could change, things I wish wouldn't have happened, and things I still struggle to accept. And most of those frustrations eventually began to equal bitterness and a complete lack of joy.
I've been frustrated with myself. I've gone from walking through the toughest of valleys and somehow still thriving to walking through this one and just barely surviving. I have often wondered why I haven't been able to just snap the hell out of it and why I haven't been able to be grateful.
Why has it been so hard to focus on the good things? What is so wrong with me that I am blinded to the very obvious gifts in my life?
We can probably all think of at least one person we know that is habitually negative. We probably love them and try to to encourage them, but that negativity takes a toll on even the most upbeat of personalities. Lately, that person has been me.
Lately, I haven't recognized myself.
I want that to change.
I want that to change.
I'm lying here now, listening to my husband and daughter in the loft upstairs. Feeling my son move within me, my son who is almost 23 weeks into his creation and weighs about a pound. And feeling a stirring in my heart, the simple beginning of an overflow that is sure to come.
"I have good things for you," a familiar voice says. And for the first time in almost a year, I believe it again. For the first time in too long, I feel hope rise against the persistent negativity. I feel the questions, frustrations, and the self degradation begin to be laid down.
And so here I am, whispering to my tiny baby boy, feeling waves of thankfulness for the feelings of gratitude that are stirring within me again.
Gratitude for a Father's heart who simply loves His daughter enough to wait on Her as she tried to go it alone for too long. Gratitude for His patience as I almost lost my faith entirely. Gratitude that He is greater than any religion, or culture, or suffocating set of rules. Gratitude that His love really IS all that matters. Gratitude for letting me receive it. And for the words that are slowly starting to flow from my soul again.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like my feet are finding their way to solid ground again. For the first time in a long time, I see a stream in the desert.
And I have hope that maybe, just maybe, this drought is seeing a beginning to its end.
"Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life." Psalm 143:8
