Light + Heavy Things
This past month has been a flurry of celebration and sickness. As my mind works to sort out the good from the hard, all I can think is Light and Heavy. Light: celebrating 30 with the sweetest surprise party, a spring break filled with sunshine and so much family time, celebrating my oldest’s sixth birthday with a bounce house and a pet gecko named Spot, helping my mom launch her brand new life coaching business, time with the people I love, potting flowers and prepping the backyard for spring’s arrival. Heavy: the never ending cycle of sickness passing through our home, scary news headlines, so many temper tantrums, mom exhaustion, looming storm clouds, and battling anxious thoughts. All things considered, even my heaviest burdens are light compared to what many have to endure.
Lately I’m realizing that it does little good to try to separate the light from the heavy. They often take turns swooshing through our home like a Texas wind storm, keeping me on my toes. Just when I think I can settle into that warm spot beneath the sun, those looming clouds roll in fierce and without warning. Alternatively, right when I feel the crushing pressure of life’s weight, those same clouds begin to lift and the light pierces through again.
I don’t know what season you are in, whether it is heavy and brooding or light and airy. I hope it’s the latter, but regardless, here’s what I want to say to you. What I would want someone to say to me—
This moment is not your life. You are not always going to feel this way.
Get your fill of the light and airy. Soak it all up, squeeze out every last drop and try as hard as you can to not constantly be looking around the corner waiting for the other shoe to drop. This season is a gift, and while no season lasts forever, they are always cyclical. Good things are coming again. Let the lightness you feel now draw you to a deep gratitude and communion with the Source of all things good. Write down every good thing, keep a running list of life’s little blessings so that you’ll have it when you need it. Take pictures that capture these moments so poetically. Draw life from a hearty laugh or a good conversation.
And when you feel the weight of things start to shift, when you scan that news headline that causes reality to come crashing down, don’t believe the voice that is telling you this is where you really belong. This is who you really are. Anxious, depressed, scared. When you get that call bearing life changing news or you suddenly feel so isolated you don’t know what to do, and you start to question if those light and airy moments were just a tease—a figment of your overly optimistic imagination, don’t listen. This moment is not your life. You are not always going to feel this way. Remember that at the end of the day, joy IS your portion. Heartache, worry, confusion will wash away in the wake of God’s promises.
I love light seasons. They provide a necessary reprieve for my naturally melancholy tendencies. But I have to stop fearing the heavier seasons. If not for them, I wouldn’t be so desperate to lean in closer to the heartbeat of God. “As a deer pants for water, so my soul longs for you O God” was not written in a moment of elation but in a season of deep desperation. When things are heavy, I naturally find myself more drawn to worship music. My prayers are hearty and passionate. I am more deeply moved by the suffering in the world around me. And mostly, I’m taught the beautiful art of surrender. The unknown is undoubtedly a scary place to be, but we don’t have to drown in our uncertainty. His love is a steady anchor. Lean in and give thanks that joy is your portion and His goodness will follow you all the days of your life. Take solace in the fact that the sun still shines even when it’s hidden behind the clouds.