Kind of matches my heart on the inside.
Cold. Kind of hard. Grey.
This has been the week to end all weeks around here. I got in from the doctors not too long ago. Jerry has pink-eye and an ear infection. Clara also has an ear infection in addition to pneumonia in one of her lungs. I counted on the ear infections, the pink eye was a sort of nuisance on top of other issues….but the pneumonia was kind of like a slap in the face. Totally unexpected, and even more so unwelcome.
And the cherry on top of all of these shenanigans is that my father has been readmitted to the local hospital for the third time in the past month.
The doctors really aren’t sure what’s wrong, but, at best, he is an incoherent hot-mess. The numbers in relation to both his one bad kidney and his liver aren’t off enough to make the doctors think that either of them are where the problem lies. He’ll be having a procedure done today and then another one in the morning to try to narrow down the possible issues and hopefully figure out just what it is that’s ailing him.
The outlook isn’t the best. We kind of always figured that the day would come where we just wouldn’t be able to get him back on the fence after one of these spells. This isn’t to say definitively that this is what’s happening right now, but things are not looking the brightest at the moment.
So, like I said, the less than optimal conditions outside are comparable to what’s churning on the inside today.
I know how I should be feeling. I know the truth. But it’s just not what I’m feeling today. I hate just about everything, actually. I hate the star on top of the tree. I hate that the stores are filled with busy and happy people, shopping for a happy holiday. I want everything to scream because that is all that I want to do, scream and rip my hair out. I would have pelted the bad driver I encountered earlier with a rock, or shot lasers out of my eyes at the woman in the store who almost ran into me with her cart if I were able. Because part of me is empty. And the other part of me is angry.
Thank Goodness our feelings do not define reality.
How easily we forget that our feelings are not truth. There is absolute truth and then the matter of feelings, which are an entirely different animal. With winter months come darkness. The light fades early. The cold incessantly seeps through minuscule cracks. The branches are bare. With all the gloom, you’d never guess that winter should actually be seen as a season of expectation.
We probably view it as a season we wish to avoid, in the literal or figurative sense. We retreat indoors with hot chocolate and decidedly agree to wait it out until we can wear flip-flops again. Because, who wants any of that? No. Thank. You.
Some folks don’t mind the actual winter season, and that’s fine.
But when we think of how we want our lives to play out, when we consider the spiritual and personal seasons that we hope for ourselves, we would probably hope for many springs and summers. Seasons of budding and transition, seasons filled with heat and passion and light and warmth. Heck, we’d probably not even mind the autumns so much. Harvesting. Growth. Reaping.
But winter? Who wants bleakness? Who wants empty branches? Who wants bitter wind and wet days?
I think that it’s probably time that we, I, gave winter its due.
I don’t much feel like it. I don’t like it. At all. But for every reminder that I have gotten lately that peace isn’t found in everyday things, in every place I go looking, God has given me twice the number of reminders that He and He alone is in control.
When faced with emotional winter, His truth melts the heart frozen over by the misconceptions of feelings.
We do not retreat, content to simply exist. We wait in expectation for the thaw, for His works.
The more He removes, the more He allows me to see that He is doing a new thing.