Rejoicing in the Valley

It’s time I started writing again. It’s the way that I’ve always processed, found my way back from the darkest caves and all my wanderings. I know that things are a mess right now, but the only way out of a mess is to move. The only way out of a mess is to recognize that you’re in one, and to start doing one small thing at a time. Healing does take time, but it does happen. To heal is a verb though, and it doesn’t happen by simply waiting to be zapped out of the sky. I know that now, more than ever. And I do have the choice to make things better or worse, no matter how bad or good things are. I always have the choices of what to do, what attitude to have, what response to have. I have the choice of what to believe about myself and about God, what to believe about others, what to believe about life. I have the choice what to let influence me, what music to listen to, what books to read, what shows and movies to watch. I have the choice to let my emotions control me or not, to push through the emotional and physical pain and do what I need to do to heal. I know that I’m stronger inside than I sometimes feel. 

Sometimes it really does hurt to breathe. Sometimes I do feel like I can’t do anything. But what’s really true? Right now, I don’t have the energy or passion level that I used to have, and I’ve been falling short of what I have expected myself to be. But it’s not true that I can’t do anything. I can pray. I can sing. I can receive love. I can give love. I can write. I can express. I can sing. I can extend compassion. I can worship. I can listen. I can be still. I can make choices. I can attend school, because I have been, and I haven’t failed any classes. I can make coffee. I can make eggs. I can read. I can take the bus. I can open up. I can get help when I need to. I can fight depression. I can surrender. I can be humble. I can cry. I can hope. I can enjoy the fact that I have red hair for the moment. I can accept myself the way that I am. I can grieve the loss of a dream. I can heal from a broken heart. I can forgive myself for the mistakes that I made. I can forgive him for the mistakes he made. I can ask for support when I’m weak and tired. I can be transparent without being mousy or whiny. I can believe the things that are true. I can embrace the “me” that is right now without accepting that I will always be this way. I can believe that God’s promises are true. I am capable of so much, maybe less physically, but I’ve never been especially ACTIVE, just excessively bouncy. I think that God wants to teach me that it’s a lot more about what’s inside, the radiant beauty of a spirit resting in him, than anything external like physical beauty or even physical energy. I want to be at peace no matter what I’m doing or not doing. I want to be rooted so deeply in who I am in Christ that even if I were an invalid and all I could do was pray, I would feel and know that I was just as valued and precious. The living GOD cherishes me. That has to change the way I look at myself, right? Well, I want to soak it all in, in this time where I’m forced to slow down and be still a lot more than I really thought I ever wanted to.

A friend of mine started a young adult group recently and the premise of what she heard from God about it was the concept of “greatly rejoicing in the valley”. Every one of us that gathered that first night felt like we were in a valley in some way in our season of life, whether it was about career or emotional state or just feeling lost. I asked God what that meant for me, and he showed me that music was one of those gifts he’d given me that he wanted me to dig into in this season. So I expect that there will be a lot of real, raw music that will come out of this time. I’m ready to embrace the mess. I choose to embrace it, because life is worth it. And life is only worth it because of the God I serve. And that makes every day worth not only living, but celebrating.