out of the dark

  the clock ticks and seconds turn into minutes. mintues turn into days. days into weeks and weeks give birth to months. children grow at the speed of life and life moves faster then sound and i am all a wonder. how fast it all seems, even though, in each indiviual second, presently, they seem, to tick by, so slowley.
 winter was long, dark often and cold. watching icicles freeze a valley that i once watched bloom with color and fragrance, it seemed to never thaw. thankfully it did, and just when it seemed that spring was embracing the winter in a warm hug good-bye, my heart, once longing, eagerly awaiting, was so used to spring not showing up, had buried itself in a deep hole. climbed right in and chose to stay. april showers rained and rained and rained and my heart sprouted nothing green, nothing colorful, nothing fragrant.
 why does this happen? setting my heart on spring to bring the hope of something new and exciting and different. when it arrives, as it does every year, my heart did not rejoice but burrowed deeper in a familiar winter hibernation den.
 depression has been my on-again-off-again for more years then i can remember. even as a young girl. the only reason i could give mommy for my tears (that would rest her heart anyway) was that i had a belly ache. the belly ache never exhausted. ever. but that pink thick liquid was kept in the fridge and i'd drink it and mommy would relax and i would feel bad for not knowing why my heart was heavy. for not understanding why the tears would not stop. i grew and life would happen. some good and some not so good. depression would come and depression would go. brought on by loss, brought on by nothing at all.
   i share because the more i do, the more i find that others feel the same. that others go through the same. that others are afraid to share, and that others don't know, that a lot of others, feel the same.
   i share to remind myself that God is big. bigger then i can comprehend. God is conqueror, over this whole entire world. to remind myself that tasting the dark, seeing it through, is expecting to taste the light. to feel it again on my face, my shoulders, my back, and in my heart. that if i can stand firm in the dark short days of winter, i can stand firm in the light long days of summer. that feeling the negative days of life, like counting numbers in the negative, helps me to appreciate the positive days of life, like counting numbers in the positive.  
   does all this make life a deeper experience?  is all this the tasting of how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ (ephesians 3:17niv) am i not building a life abundant? am i not blessed because of all the mourning?
 either way, i am glad i am coming out of the dark. thankful to be marking my minutes, hours, days and weeks by choosing joy, purposefully. by counting all the ways He loves by penning all the things i love, that He has gifted.
 i am reading ann voskamp's book one thousand gifts and choosing to take ink to paper and writing my way - His way, out of the dark by practicing eucharisteo. he who sacrifices thank offerings honors me, and he prepares the way so that i may show him the salvation of God. psalm 50:23
 because even in the dark, their is much to be thankful for, and the more i see it, the brighter it becomes. now this is not a prescription for depression and some may in fact need a 'script, but how much more helpful is it to note, literally, script a running list of blessings. like that old hymn says count our blessings, naming them one by one. count our many blessings to see what God has done for you and for me and what He has gifted. for how many of us can add another day to our lives by thinking on the worst of it? i am glad to be coming out of the dark. i am glad for a thankful heart, for their is much to give thanks for.