Thursday, March 15, 2012
I haven't updated this series of blogs in a few days. There are a couple of reasons for that. Number one, not much has changed in my mental state. I have lost a couple more pounds, but the joy is eclipsed by the way I feel.
I still feel the effects of switching from one medication to another and the side effects are brutal. I'm not one for hyperbole, so when I say the side effects are brutal, that is not an exaggeration. Number two, I am having a hard time locating words at the moment, so it makes writing a bit tedious when I have to search for a word I used on a daily basis, then while I search for that word, I lose my whole train of thought. It's maddening.
So, this may be a short blog, but I feel I need to write, not only because I committed to write these blogs (Daily. Oh, how I've failed that commitment) during the Lenten season, but because writing is often a balm to my soul. Writing helps me put things into perspective, brings out thoughts, that lead to reflection, that I didn't realize needed my focus. Writing also has a way of calming my mind and bringing order to the chaos in my brain. And if anything is chaotic at this moment, it is my mind.
There are many thoughts and feelings that are trapped inside my mind; they bang around in there; crash into each other; battle with one another; bounce off the boundaries of my skull, in an attempt to escape the chaos. It feels overwhelming, and, I am not ashamed to admit, scary. Scary because I don't know how to control it or make it better.
Today I've been listening to the song I posted above, He Will Carry Me, by Mark Schultz. I am comforted as I let the lyrics wash over me - I know I’m broken, But You alone Can mend this heart of mine, You’re always with me... Even though I'm walking through the valley of the shadow, I will hold on tight to the hand of Him whose love will comfort me...He will carry me.
At moments like this, I don't cling to my God because it's the least I can do, or because I have run out of other options. This is a perfect example of a time when the best I can do is cling to Him; admit that I don't have the strength for this battle. There is almost an audible sigh from my mind as I let go of the notion that I have any control over this process.
As I look back at my first entry in this series, I see where I wrote, that for Lent I was giving up control. How quickly did I grab back control and try to strongly soldier on? "I can DO this!" I think to myself about a thousand times a day. What a joke. I know God has a sense of humor, but I don't think he's laughing at this joke.
No, it's not a joke to him, I feel certain of that. I picture God shaking his head, the way a loving father would when his child has taken on more than she can handle, and saying "No, you can't-- Not by your own power, you can't DO this. You're in over your head. But luckily for you my beloved child, I never left your side and I've got this. You just relax, fall back into my arms, and allow me to carry you through."
Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens. Selah