I Don't Cry Anymore

When I first started in this valley of a spiritually-mismatched marriage, I was an emotional wreck. I cried out to God, I cried out loud, I cried and cried and cried. I don't think I'd ever wept so much in my entire life as I had those first few months of this valley.

Seriously.

There are specific places I remember crying. And specific times. And many daily occurrences. I promise, I am not asking for a pity party...like I said...this was a while ago.

But, I think about it often, and I wonder what has changed, and why I don't cry anymore. Because, over the past year and a half, we've cycled in and out of our same lows.

Funny how we never really learn how to climb up and out. I mean...we have done a ton of climbing. And we've had an upward movement out of the valley (well, not necessarily away from the reason, but toward a peace in living with it) for a steady amount of time.

Although, it seems, there is always a broken pass in the near future and we tumble down and down and hit the valley floor again. Over and over. While I drag my feet in the same old treacherous trenches, my heart still aches, my soul still groans, and I feel the weight of hopelessness time and again.

Yet, my cheeks remain dry.

 I fear that my aching heart is growing callous to the trial...do I daresay that my vision of God's hand in all of this is blinded? Sometimes I go there. I do. I confess. Sometimes I just don't see Him anymore because the valley is dark.

The other day, my son came to me with a problem. It was something that I would normally feel unsettled about. I guess "normally" being two years ago. But our normal has changed. And I didn't fear or tremble at his problem.

That scared me.

That made me wonder if I've grown numb and apathetic to the hard stuff because of so much hard stuff. But there's part of me that wants to believe...maybe I've just grown up.

And mostly I want to think, God's grown bigger in my life and I've surrendered much to Him. So much so that I really do have His peace in me.

And I don't cry anymore.

A big problem met with peace might appear as apathetic, but even amidst the trials we are called to rest...we are called to Peace. It just dawned on me as I write this and flip through my Bible--how this past month I've been going through Psalm 23 and the psalm might just illustrate where I am at.

Which is crazy. Like I said, I don't know if I see Him.

But maybe He just showed up as I type...pulling together a big A-Ha as to what I might have lived through and lived out in the Psalm 23 challenge.

Wow, in this moment, I am reminded that He really is my Shepherd, no matter how blind I may be.
**I added the pictures AFTER I wrote this...just had to showcase what I've learned.:)**

The Evil in The Deep: Psalm 23 challenge

How easy it would be to cling to evil in the deep darkness of a valley. To cling to anything that might

satisfy or relieve?

How easy it would be to cower in fear of all the evil that surrounds, to crumble and crawl and live in the pit.

The valley is a black gloom, a deep darkness, a seemingly godless path.

Sometimes, I wonder if He can even see me and guide me in such a dark place. And I see others who have gone astray, and allowed the darkness to consume them, to break them, to force them to relinquish their hearts.

I will stay the path in my blindness, because, I know,  that He is with me, He is my Shepherd, and guides me.

And I am safe.

I shall not want.

It's when I get in those funks of wanting to consume my time with writing, or job hunting, or blogging, or Facebook arguments, or....yeah, anything that distracts me from the here and now moment of motherhood, marriage, and household management, that I realize I am trying to replace my needs with my wants.

Suddenly, I am squeezing real life in these mini-breaks from my wannas, maybes, and only ifs. There's something inside me that opens up like a great big chasm, reminding me that I am not satisfied or adequate. I go around in a veil of gloom, stepping toward an edge that might doom me into broken relationship because of my shameful words or actions that dismiss the most important parts of life right now--motherhood, marriage, and household management.

Yeah, you might tell that I am not in the mood for eloquence in this post.

It's because I just feel so... annoyed with myself.

Today, I arrived at my daughter's preschool early, parked, and decided to take a walk in the nearby neighborhood. Not many days left where that is even appealing. But today was decent, cool, and not too uncomfortable out. I am on Day 3 of my pastor's challenge to stay in Psalm 23, so I looked up the next part of the Psalm on my out-dated iPhone 5.

And the next part was,

"I shall not want."

No kidding.

Perfect timing huh? I mean within minutes of me telling my husband I was disappointed with the way things are going in my pursuit of my dreams, potential work, and overall purpose.

But, the Guy doing the shepherding is not very subtle in His job of "guiding me" as He should. And in that fifteen minute walk, He led me...maybe not through a valley, but away from the edge.

The Lord is my Shepherd, even when I am not listening or when I am throwing a fit. If I just stop and listen, I might just not want for anything...but Him.

 He sits at the proverbial gate of my pen, protecting me, the stupid sheep trying my darndest to carve my own path. Pretty hard when my carving always leads to Him. He's not easily ignored. And He certainly knows exactly what I need.