Riding Out the Storms

A sweet friend once said, “think about depression like you’re a ship on the sea. Calmly ride out the storm; don’t try and fight so hard.”

There’s a lot of truth to that. Not just in depression, but in every area of our lives.

​When we’re faced with rougher waters, when we suddenly find ourselves up against a vicious storm, I think a lot of times our first thought is “how do I get past this?” We have that desperate longing for the calm. To get back the life of normality we had before.
 
While it's certainly not wrong to wish for calmer waters, what if we thought about our storms a little differently? What if instead of fighting them so hard, we instead rested calmly in the arms of our Savior, trusting that He will carry us through?
 
Because whatever you’re going through right now, it’s just a season. It will pass. I promise.
 
The storm will end and you’ll look up and survey the sea around you. And you’ll realize that the calm you longed for is a bit different than what you imagined. It’s better. And you’re stronger and more beautiful and braver than you were before it started.
 
I love this song by Danny Gokey. It speaks my heart in all of this!

A lot of you know I’ve been on a health roller coaster this last year. Juggling this new world of Lyme disease and dysautonomia.

I never imagined I’d walk this road. This last year of pain and suffering and loss. The uncertainty of knowing how I’ll feel each morning when I wake up.

For months I wished for my old life back. A life where nausea didn’t affect my ability to eat, the days where brain fog was just a word and writing was possible, a time where I could tackle my to do list and still have energy left over.

And for months, that wish never came true. It still hasn’t come true. But you know what? That’s okay. Because I don’t want my old life back anymore. Yes, I still hope for the day when my nausea isn’t so consistent. The day I can write again and go places and do things without my health holding me back.
 But if I had a choice, a decision to go back to the days before I was sick, I wouldn’t go. Because I’m not the person I was last year. That version of me was far less brave and stronger and wiser.

Because your trials, friends, however excruciating and devastating and painful they are, God is using them to shape you and mold you and form you into the beautiful work of art you are today.

 So don’t fight so hard.

When a potter goes to the wheel and proceeds to make an object, that lump of clay does absolutely nothing. It merely sits there patiently, letting its maker mold it and shape it and work it until it’s just perfect.

Imagine if the clay had a mind of its own! Fighting against the hands of the potter, stubbornly trying to mold itself into the object it thinks it should be. It would be quite silly, wouldn’t it? It’s simply a lump of clay! How on earth could it even know what it needed?

We are those lumps of clay, friends. And Jesus is our Potter. We don’t know what we truly need, but Jesus does. And He’s working on us, bit by bit. Using trials and suffering and tribulations to break us and shape us into beautiful vessels to be used for His glory.

To wish that a trial never happened, or to hope for the pace of a former time, we might as well desire to stay as half formed lumps of clay.
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​This life is hard. Trust me, I know. But whatever it is you’re going through, big or small, it has such a beautiful purpose. You’re not going through this in vain. God is using every moment, every prayer, every tear, to make you braver and wiser and stronger.

So, let Him work. Trust Him and rest in His promises during the storms. Believing that He’s using them for your good.

Because He is.

And you’re going to walk away from this with so much more faith. 
And far, far, stronger and more beautiful and whole then you can ever imagine. <3
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