if there’s one thing i know to be true with every fiber of my being, it is that all of this life is seasons. there’s an ebb and flow, a continual changing of the tides; old gives way to new, and something beautiful always rises up out of the ashes.
for me, this season often feels like a cold, hard winter. i’m in a thin place, where sometimes the winds are so bitter and fierce that it hurts to even breathe. this season is emotion that shakes me to the core. it is a deep-down soul renewal, where parts of me are stripped away and what’s left is laid bare. it’s a season where life seems to be just a little bit muted, where everything is just a little bit gray, where the pace is just a little bit slower.
this season is grief. and it’s messy; it’s hard. it’s my heart-rubbed-raw, and it hurts.
and sometimes i feel like i need to explain that to people, like i need to have some sort of excuse for my bleeding heart, for my silence, for having more questions than answers, for not being able to find the right words.
and maybe that’s what this post is, in a way: an explanation of sorts. but also, maybe…maybe an apology.
because i know right now, i’m taking more than i’m giving.
i know i’m saying no far more often than i’m saying yes.
i know my mourning clothes look heavy, and they might make some of you a bit uncomfortable.
i know i’m restless and discontent, not satisfied with easy answers or quick fixes.
i know sometimes your words feel like they fall on deaf ears.
i know i’m being jealous of my time and of my space.
and i know that it might seem a little bit unfair.
but for far too long, i stopped myself from entering into the fullness of my emotions because i was trying to protect myself + those around me.
and it all became so heavy, so weighted, such a burden on my shoulders that i broke beneath it.
and it’s in this season that He’s going to start putting the pieces back together.
because though this winter often feels long and cruel, i know it’s not my forever-season. when i choose to listen to the silence, i can hear the heartbeat of spring beneath the ground.
[Photo by Samuel Van Dijk on Flickr]