Dim Glasses

Have you ever had that empty, gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach when you're trying to express an idea to someone, and you just can't quite describe it? You see the randomly placed nods and you hear the "uh huh" and "oh totally," but in their eyes there is a distance caused by an inability to correctly describe a thought or situation; a failure to bring them into your story. 

Well, that's the feeling I've had for the past few months as random areas of my life began to swirl and eddy into what is now and overwhelming and turbulent sea. You can say the words "it's hard right now." And then as the days and weeks go by, those words turn into "I'm just so weary." At this point, there is still comprehension in the listeners eyes, but you start to feel a little distance, as if the words you're using are just not quite up to the weight of meaning you're trying to convey.

Then a change happens, and you're weariness, striving, and overwhelming moments deepen into one of those experiences that shape you. At this point, you could either turn into a despairing and bitter cynic, or a faithfully struggling child of God who will not curse the heavens no matter the calamity.

It's that moment when you begin to taste and see that even in the midst of a storm, God is still good. It ceases to be black and white letters on a page and turns into memories that draw on all your senses as you remember when that truth became real to you. This is when words begin to fail and the distance seems to grow in your description to others.

But analogies become our bridges of understanding when our experiences seem to distance us from one another. So, how would I describe this place where I am? I would describe it as a pair of glasses. Do you know that scene in Spider-man when he awakes after the affects of the spider bite takes its toll? Suddenly he realizes he is stronger, more attuned to his senses, and yes, suddenly without the need of his glasses which he was so dependent on before. 

That's how I would describe this sight in here midst of this refining time. I used to wear these glasses that would bring the world into sharper focus. I needed these glasses to get around, do my job, interact with others. And then something happens to you and you wake up to find you suddenly have another prescription; one that actually leaves the world looking a little fuzzy, but God comes into sharper focus. Suddenly, others plights seem more relatable, songs of intense faith seem more familiar and beautiful, and your need of God becomes even more real because your prescription doesn't help you to navigate this world like it used to.

Hard times are never purposeless. Without them, our senses wouldn't recognize God and our memory banks would be low when we try to look back and recall how constant God's goodness is. I still pray for relief from my storm. Some days, I am so weary from it that the next hour seems impossible to live through, the next meeting unbearable, and the next straw could be back-breaking. But every hour now ends with the prayer, "God, I can't do this next hour without You." And suddenly an hour has passed and your memory bank is a little more full. Your prescription is changing as this world grows strangely dim, but I wouldn't trade this new sight for all the calm waters in the world.