I have a friend. I haven't seen her for a while now. She tends to come and go as she pleases. Once in a while, she will drop in, stay a while and leave when she thinks she's kept me company for long enough. Whenever she's around, my days need to be re-organized. Hers is a quiet sort of demanding.
Most people don't understand her. And most of the time, if I'm honest, neither do I. Most people are also afraid of her. I don't think that I am anymore. But if I was, it would only be the slightest amount. You see, she's quite gentle. Her footsteps are light. So light, in fact, that I usually don't notice her arrival until she's settled comfortably in my home. That's how she arrived this time, anyway. Perhaps it's her unpredictability and mysteriousness that frightens people.
She has her reasons for visiting, I know. I actually think she has a direct line to God and He's the one who usually tells her when to come. Some people see her as an unwelcome intruder, and some days when she's around, I think so too. But she never comes without at least a few gifts for me. So I'm learning not to resist her presence.
When she's around, my capacity for working is diminished; I need more sleep and I have trouble concentrating on certain tasks. This means that I need to be mindful of my energy and be careful in what I choose to do or not do. It also means that I am brought face to face with my limitations and weaknesses, which makes me re-examine where my identity and value lie. These are some of the gifts she brings.
When she's around, I also feel a certain pervasive sadness. This means I need to find what is life-giving and make space for those things. I cry more easily. The sadness is one way she helps me to enter into the grief of the world. I might feel alone, but in actuality, I am sharing in the experience of humanity. Her presence means that I must make room for rest and renewal. She invites me to press closer into the bosom of Christ, who is the God of all comfort. These, too, are the gifts she brings.
The greatest gift from her, I think, is humility. She humbles me like nothing else. From her, I am reminded that my limited capacity is not only a good thing, it's perfect. And that my value comes from being a beloved creature of the Creator.
What is her name, you might ask? Some call her Depression. But today, I'd like you to meet my friend.
4 comments:
Hi Olive, this is quite a friend. She seems quite special, like you said. I guess I never thought of her as a person before. Your thoughts are interesting to be, and encouraging and beautiful. I hope you and Tim are enjoying BC. How are you guys? We've had a couple of gorgeous days here, sunshine, birds singing. Rebecca Chee is actually sitting next to me trying to think in both Spanish and French, an epic feat. I forgot to tell you, but Rebecca is also friends with Michelle, who's been one of my DGLs this year. I've also discovered that Rebecca has a friend at Queen's also called Tim, who was in my exbf's form class in highschool, who also happens to know Isabel L as she is a cousin of his friend. Small world, isn't it? You touch lives. I like your deep thoughts.
i liked this.
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