July 27, 2021 0 By Laura

I feel like I’ve been buried. By the challenges, the fears, the stress, the exhaustion. It’s all piled on top of me like an impossibly heavy burden that cannot, in any way or with any solutions, be moved.

I have to trust that the burying that is apparently occurring right now, and has been happening for the past 19 months, is part of me being planted. A seed is planted and takes any length of time to root and germinate, and then eventually, much later down the road, the newness of life springs forth. It pushes hard through the dirt that’s burying it, and it breaks through with fresh hope and life. I have to trust that this is where I’m headed.

I’ve heard people talk about difficult circumstances in relation to seasons, the hardest of which being winter. During winter, the leaves fall off the trees, the flowers fade away, the grass turns brown and stops growing, and the weather is cold. It all feels a bit lifeless. It appears as if everything is dead. But the winter is a time for plants and vegetation of all kinds to strengthen roots, establish a firmer foundation, and store up energy for all the growth and fruit that will take place in the spring.

The main source of hope that I’ve found in this seemingly never-ending struggle is that there will be fruit at the end of it. I want to bring comfort and hope and truth and light to someone else struggling. I want to encourage someone else that even when it feels like there isn’t hope, there actually is. But right now, I’m struggling so big with feeling a lack of hope. I know that eventually good things will come and the hope I’m holding onto will come to fruition. But I also feel like that is forever away. I feel so stuck and so disheartened. I’m exhausted constantly, and not just physically, but emotionally and mentally too. My soul is weary. My heart is tired. My hope has about run out of steam, and my expectations are constantly coming up short, bringing about far more disappointment than any one person should ever be forced to deal with.

Yet each day, I get out of bed and I do the things that need to be done, despite feeling buried. I don’t always do it with a smile. In fact, some days I feel like I rarely smile. It’s a struggle to find joy and feel peace and even enjoy simple pleasures at times.

But I’m trying really hard to suffer well. I want to struggle joyfully. And I know it’s unrealistic to think that I will be joyful and hopeful and positive 100% of the time when going through a season like this. But I also feel like I should be able to muster more joy and hope than I currently am. I wish there was a quick and easy solution. A three-step process on how to achieve joy in suffering. I wish it was that simple. But I guess if it were that simple, it wouldn’t be as glorious and overwhelmingly beautiful when it does actually happen. I see glimpses of hope and joy, and I know they are there, deep down inside. But I cannot seem to get a grasp on how to pull them out of the depths and live in them on a daily basis.

I feel buried and I feel like even though I’m more than a year and a half in to the most challenging season of my life, I still feel like I haven’t started sprouting or producing fruit or even poking through the dirt even the tiniest bit. And I want so badly to feel like I’m making progress. To feel like I have access to hope and joy and like I’m actually making a difference. I want to feel like I’m growing and learning, and not like I’m just stuck in a rut. I feel like I’ve basically been in a funk for months and months, and quite frankly, I’m really sick and tired of it.