I Just Don't Know

It's almost March, and I am so ready for spring. I never thought that I suffered from seasonal affective disorder, but now I am starting to wonder. I was always the girl who relished a gray, rainy day; what could be more perfect than curling up with a good book (usually Pride and Prejudice or Jane Eyre--perfect rainy-day books) and a cup of fragrant tea and a snuggly blanket while listening to the rain beat comfortingly against the window pane? Now, though, it seems like after months of cold and dreariness, peppered only infrequently with sunshine, I am ready to chuck it all and move to an island somewhere. Sipping mojitos on the beach, windsurfing, maybe even throwing in a good old-fashioned swim with the dolphins, sounds like bliss to me at this point.
These past few weeks have been pretty rough. I had to say goodbye (in some respects) to someone that I still care very deeply for, and it wasn't the easiest thing in the world to do. The right thing, but by no accounts easy. Even still, I get teary-eyed thinking about it. But time heals, and although it's only been two weeks, this is week is better than last, and I'm confident that next will be even better than this. The dreary weather certainly doesn't help, though. How easy it is to pull my comforter over my head and say, "Nope. I don't feel like dealing with the world today. I'm staying right here." Easy, but not practical, nor really, even possible. I have responsibilities, I have school to go to, I have things to do and plans to keep. But sometimes, "Oh, that I were a bird, that I could fly far far away from here." I don't know who said that, but man, do I resonate with that.
I have been blessed with so much, it would be impossible to list it all; most importantly, though, is what Christ did on the cross, and throughout His whole life, and even still, for me. That is my anchor, that is my peace. When the waves of tyranny reek havoc in my heart, He is the One Who says, "Peace, be still." The Bible says that God collects our tears in a bottle. He must have a whole universe full of tears for all of the people across time and all of the tears that they've shed for the small to big heartaches in their lives.
I wonder what He does with them all? And why is He keeping them? Maybe He said it to show us that even one heart's sorrow doesn't go unnoticed. Just as He knows every hair on our heads, every breath we take, every thought in our minds, and every intention of the heart, He cares so intimately for us that He collects each droplet that drips from our cheeks. Oh, to feel that love, for one instant. I did, a few years ago, well, maybe more like seven, now. I was reading John 17, where it says that God loves us as He loves Christ. It broke over me in waves how much He loves me. I still remember it vividly; I remember exactly where I was sitting in my apartment, exactly what the lighting in the room was like, and a prayer that I had prayed earlier. I had said, "God, I need to know that You are real. I need to know that You love me like this Book says You do. I'm having a really tough time believing it. Please, please, help me." I was going through some pretty rough stuff in my life at this point, and so that God answered this prayer was HUGE for me. I was on the couch, reading that passage, and all of a sudden it hit me like Mike Tyson going for the KO; I am loved by the Creator of all things. How is this possible, when He sees all of me, all of the bad intentions mixed with the good, all of the misdeeds, everything that is foul about me, along with everything that is fair? How can He love such a mixed bag of tricks as I? And it was like He whispered, no joke, "I love you for you. I love you as I love My only Son. And He loves you so much that He died to reconcile us, and to give you life." It makes me so mad and really, grieves my heart tremendously when I see the way that God and His word is treated by the world; and I don't excuse myself from this, either. Keller today talked about Romans 2 and how we can go a few ways. 1)narcissism: I'm okay, you're okay, we're all just fine. No problems anywhere. Relativism. Whatever works for you, great. Whatever works for me, great. 2)moralism: I'm okay, you're dead wrong. The type of thinking that led to concentration camps and genocide. 3)masochism: I suck, you're okay. Devaluing ourselves when God has said that we are all precious and priceless. The fourth option is what it should be: I'm not okay, you're not okay, but Christ has come to make it okay, in our souls, now, and eventually, when He comes again, for eternity. We love to interpret the Ten Commandments as "Do this, don't do this. Toe the line or go to hell." But in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus shows that it isn't what we do or don't do; it's the heart attitude. "You have heard it said, 'Do not murder'. But I tell you, that whenever any one of you says 'Raca' in his heart(raca meant 'worthless') you have committed murder already." As per usual for Jesus, He took popular opinion, popular interpretation, and put it on its head. Murder is the tree that grows from a seed of hatred, pride, jealousy, any other heart cancer. So really, it isn't the behavior that needs be dealt with, initially. It is the heart. And that's even harder. But that's what He did.
I majorly digressed; this started out about my self-diagnosed seasonal affective disorder and turned into a sermon recap. But anyway, maybe it is all related. I am a woman, perhaps that makes me always dealing with and living out of things of the heart; but it seems to me, that that is where life is. The Bible says, "Guard your heart, for out of it comes the well-spring of life." For the longest time, I interpreted that to mean, 'don't get too close to anyone (especially men). Don't love too fully or too openly because you'll be way hurt and your well-spring, your energy to live and love and do, will be broken.' Now I see it differently. I see it as an imploring by God to love. I will love, even if it hurts, even if it is not ever returned. I will love by doing what is best for the other person, even if it will cost me something. I will stay open to love, not shutting down for fear of pain, but opening up to share what I've been given, to accept and move through pain if it comes, and to grow from it as I move through it. A friend said to me last week, "You know, Stef, I'm so sorry for your pain right now. But I know, with all my heart, that it will serve to make you a more tender and stronger and a better person than you are right now." May that be true, O Lord, and may it be for Your glory. May I guard my heart in such a way that I am never afraid to love, but only afraid of what it means to not love. May I guard my heart in such a way as to be able to give freely of it to those around me and pour out the blessings I have been abundantly given onto others. May my heart be a blessing, even if that means pain for me sometimes. Jesus was the ultimate best at everything; He guarded His heart like a pro. And yet He suffered the ultimate at the hands of those He loved with a love eternal. It is inexplicable, yet true. May He teach me how to love people like that, in that way.