Valleys and Mountaintops

I am in the middle of the deepest valley, and I have been through the tallest of the mountaintops. Yet who wants to be at the mountaintop when all you can do is breathe in and take in the view. Is there anyone doing anything anymore? Did your hike up to the top produce any productive fruit? Not right now the valley is where I am at, the valley is where life is at. Where the ground is over saturated with hurt, pain, joy, contentment, and ailments. Where the flowers have thorns and you still count them as blessings. Where life has relationships that falter and people that struggle. I needed help. Yet I thought I had to act like I was at the top of this mountain just looking at all the things go by. The valley where that river flows and the power surges. I felt that being put together meant church three nights a week, ministry all seven, and a perfect family. I thought that I could hide my tears at night or in a journal. You want to know the worst part? I had family and friends asking me are you okay? I kept being strong. Because at the top of the mountain you are not suppose to feel weak, that is where the power lies. What are we doing surviving off of metaphorical freaking photosynthesis? NO!

Snow is on the mountain top; but streams are in the Valley.

The darkest thought that crossed my mind was: What if I was not here. Let us examine that thought, I felt like I was the cause to all the fragility in my life. That the root of my sadness was based on the set of rules I kept having to perform in my head. The beginning of my depression was the fact that I numbed out all the roots that dug down deep into my heart and did not destroy them where they were. I still am quaking with shame that I felt like I could take this life. I find myself constantly on my knees praying for this heartache or break to go away. I am not completely put together. I am not going to be all together in this life. Yet I know something that gives me hope, I trust in a God who takes me apart and pieces me together. I believe in a God who loves with so much passion he sent his son to die for me. I trust in a God who called me wanted, adopted, and chosen. I NEED THAT TO BE MY HOPE.God takes pleasure when we trust in His power to save; when we boast in the Lord, rather than in our own strength. It honors Him when we hold to an unflinching faith in the face of insurmountable obstacles, and debilitating limitations. Even though we may appear to be but a “little flock of goats” beset all around with innumerable opponents armed to the teeth — the Lord can handle it.

 

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Categories: Uncategorized

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