Venturing through the Valley

Posted on May 3, 2008
Filed Under Faith, Courage |

I got up earlier than usual this morning. In part because I went to bed earlier than usual and felt satisfied at the amount of sleep I got last night; in part because Amos, my mom-in-love’s dog is staying with us . . . again . . . and he’s an early riser because she is. Whatever.

It’s actually been a pleasant, quiet, thoughtful morning for me, and even my husband as I invited him into my internal discussions. As we sat in our front room considering our lives these past few weeks, I decided that this is a valley moment, at least from my perspective. The loss of our grand daughter has left me mostly weepy and sad with an occasional break in the clouds that I find myself feeling guilty about. (How dare a smile cross my face . . . that’s appalling.) I’ve had to be very intentional about holding on to and meditating upon those thoughts that are true, even if I don’t wholeheartedly “believe” them. God is good. Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice. For we know that in all things God works together for the good of those who love Him and are called to His purpose. If God be for us then who can be against us? Etc. Etc. Etc. And, even in doing that, I don’t feel the sun/Son shine on my face at the moment. My moods feel unstable and dark, overcast and gloomy. And, while I know this is all okay and a normal response to grief, I long to move through it and get back to my usual authentically sunny self. And, more than me even, I’m anxious for my son and his beautiful wife to find normal again, even if it’s a new normal. They, here lately, aren’t as shiny as they used to be.

Ecclesiastes says that there is a season, a time for everything . . . and this is my time to hang out in the valley. There is nothing “mountain peak” happening in my life right now. My heart is swollen with loss, my husband didn’t get the promotion he applied for, my kids are hurting, and I’m getting fat because I just can’t seem to get to the gym beneath the weight of it all . . . no pun intended. Welcome to the Valley.

The truth is, I guess that’s not all bad news, and the valley doesn’t have to be all that bad a place.

Psalm 23:4
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

Valley: an elongated depression between uplands, hills, or mountains, esp. one following the course of a stream.

Yeah . . . that’s what it feels like. Those moments, prolonged sometimes, between the mountains, the high points, the achievements and accolades. But God is here, and close enough to protect me from my dark thoughts with His rod, and guide me through the muck and miry of pity with His staff. There is an intimacy with God here in the valley that the mountain peak simply doesn’t accommodate with its wide open spaces and sunshine, where wandering from His presence is easy because it’s just so darned expansive. No. Sometimes, at least in my life, God is best seen in the dark, damp, closed in places of my broken heart and the valley crevice that results from it.

I don’t want to miss Him here. I’ve intentioned not to. But, I’m not going to lie, I can’t wait to see the world from up high again. There’s a season, a time for that too. I’m holding on to that hope.

Peace and Blessings,

Nic