Feeling so many things right now, and at the moment, to write about any of it would look a little something like me trying to slice the very teeny-tiniest tip of an iceberg off into a blog post. Instead, I’m going to defer to something I read tonight in a most recent favorite, Bittersweet, written by Shauna Niequist. More on this title (and why it’s one of the most timely, amazing things I’ve read) in future installments, but for now, here’s what resonated with my heart this evening:
“As I thought about it, I realized that night was right absolutely in the middle of the hardest season…I had experienced, a long stretch of uncertainty and fear. And maybe that’s why that night stands out. Because it was an oasis, a port in the storm, a moment of levity and connection in the middle of a season that felt distinctly lonely and tangled…when you’re in the middle, pretty much all you can ask for are little bits of flame to light the darkness that feels interminable…You don’t know what the story is about when you’re in the middle of it. You think you do, but you don’t. You make up all kinds of possible story lines: this is about growing up. Or this is about living without fear. You can guess all you want but you don’t know. All you can do is keep walking…but oh the middle. I hate the middle. The middle is the fog, the exhaustion, the loneliness, the daily battle against despair and the nagging feeling that tomorrow will be just like today, only you’ll be wearier and less able to defend yourself against it. The middle is the lonely place, when you can’t find words to say how deeply empty you feel…”
Not hopeless tonight, just walking. Trudging perhaps, through my own kind of “middle.” Amazingly thankful for God’s grace, infused into my life and heart in all the right moments, taken by beauty in the midst of a battleground for spirits, blessed by words written in a book that happened upon my life in the most perfect timing. In the middle, at this given juncture, I still see evidence of who I am destined to be bleeding through at the edges, still expect that my iceberg will be far more beautiful and breathtaking on the underside than it seems at the very teeny-tiniest tip.
grace and peace to you,