Even if all your glasses tend to be half-full, if you lean toward Pooh and away from Eeyore, if you tend to be the first to spot the silver lining, there is a cloud that can descend upon you that you did not choose and cannot escape no matter how much you may try to reframe it.
Maybe it comes from running a little too hard for a little too long. Or from small discouragements that add up to one big gloom. And you wake up in the morning and realize the hopefulness that usually dances around you just isn’t there today.
This was me yesterday.
The worst part is I couldn’t think of a good reason for my funk, couldn’t pinpoint one moment to blame for the gray, and I couldn’t figure my way out of it.
I went to the gym against my better judgment. (My better judgment when I’m in a mood says stay home and worry and eat food, just so you know.) But John casually mentioned maybe a workout would be good for me.
So I went and cried a little in child’s pose before my power yoga class started, felt dumb for crying for a reason I couldn’t name, and hoped for a little hope by the time I left.
No writing appeared on any walls of the yoga studio, no one mysteriously encouraged me while I was there. Nothing spectacular happened at all during my class.
But maybe those few secret tears and the hour of sweat worked a little something to the surface because afterwards on the way to my car, a phrase floated through my mind, soft and light at once.
God is creating something new within me.
It wasn’t even a whisper; that would be too loud. It was just a string at the end of a kite blowing away in the wind. But it was there and I caught sight of it for a moment and as I walked, I decided to hold on.
Tears came again, this time for a different reason. Tossing my mat into the trunk of my car, I repeated the phrase out loud – God is creating something new within me.
After I said it, a new piece unfolded itself . . . even though everything feels dreadfully the same.
I’ve found an alternative to optimism and pessimism and it has nothing to do with filling half-empty glasses or ripping the silver off the clouds.
In the beginning, God created and here in the middle He hasn’t stopped. He keeps taking this same soul earth, turning it over and over again, making something from what feels like nothing.
The pessimists say life is hard and won’t get better. The optimists say life is good or will be soon.
But the believers say our hope is in Jesus whether life is hard or life is good, releasing the right to predict the future, holding on to God who comes to be with us now.
And our hope comes as we trust that the God who created in the beginning hasn’t stopped creating yet. Even if that hope is only as sure as a floating kite string.
Maybe for now that’s enough. Maybe for now it’s okay that you don’t have a grand perspective. Maybe for now it’s okay not to know.
Maybe for now it’s enough to simply believe that the God who created the world with words alone creates still, within you. Even when you can’t see it or feel it or name it.
And the faith it takes to believe that’s true could be the new thing He’s creating within you today.
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