Monday, October 3, 2011

31 days || three: shaking it out.

 {photo by Sasha Bell}

Sometimes I cannot understand the weight of what we are meant to bear here. 

I become overwhelmed by all of the blogs that detail the pain and the suffering, the posts by the cancer-ridden, the diseased, the mothers who have lost their babies, the women who have lost their husbands. I can barely handle the burdens those around me carry. 

This summer, when a friend of mine began experiencing her own troubles, I could not handle it. It was too much for me. I walked around in a fog, failing to understand or comprehend what I was hearing. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and watch a movie, maybe snuggle with Jordan or read a good book. 

Sometimes, in this age where too much information is available at all of my tiny fingertips, I will stumble across a tragedy online. I will read a newspaper article or a blog post that moves me near tears. I will hear of the suffering both around the world and at home, and I will nearly crumple underneath it all. 

Because what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to handle these things that are so much bigger? How am I supposed to move past these boulders and walk the path that lies before me? 

I don’t know. 

If you’re looking for the answer, you’ve come to the wrong place. I don’t have it. 

My gut tells me that if we can’t handle something, maybe it’s because we’re not meant to. 

Maybe I’m just supposed to do with these big things what I can. Maybe I don’t move them out of the way completely. Maybe I just gently nudge, and with each nudge maybe the burden becomes lighter. 

And in the meantime, maybe I cling a little more tightly to the Creator. Maybe I have more people at my house, because life is too short to wait for things to be perfect. Maybe I clear off the calendar so that there’s more room to breathe, to let the organic bloom and grow. Maybe I relish in the Monday nights with nothing to do. Maybe I read more. Maybe — and I realize I’m nearing cliché here — I dance more, despite two left feet and arms that flail about like a dying bird. Maybe I throw more parties and write more notes and turn off the TV. 

This is what celebrating is, I think. It’s doing with this life the best that we can. It’s accepting the tragedies, because they do come. It’s mourning and grieving, and then? Then I think it’s shaking it out. I think it’s letting go and continuing to live. It feels silly sometimes to celebrate when there is so much to mourn. 

It feels a little like buying clothes when there are those who live without. 

But unlike extra clothes in your closet, I think celebration can help others overcome their trials. 

I think celebration is helpful for us all. 

4 comments:

mary kate said...

such great advice, sometimes when things get hard to bear its better to just accept them and move on rather then wallowing and constantly thinking about them. i feel that is one thing i've learned this year that has really helped me deal with some things that have been less then great. love your 31 days posts so far their great!

monster cakes said...

I heard a great sermon once that explained how sometimes there isn't always a 'lesson to be learned' in a trial. Sometimes the enemy is just attacking you, or others around you, and the only 'point' of it all is to still be able to stand firm and declare that God is good. Even amidst all this tragedy, God is good. I've tried to remember this, and in some aspects, it makes me feel like my life has more purpose and I am still doing something. I may not be able to help those starving children across the world on a grand scale, but I can still declare to the world that God is good. I hope that made sense. : )

ps. Writing you back today! Your e-mail made my morning.

jenna said...

I am very excited to spend this month re-learning how to celebrate with you! Thank you for reminding us of these truths!

TefMarie said...

I love that Florence song. Thanks for the reminder.