Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
19 God, the Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet like the deer’s;
he makes me tread on my high places. Habakkuk 3:17-19
I have to admit, Habakkuk is not one of my top 3, 5, or 10th “go-to” books in the Bible, but my homework for Grief Share told me to mentally plop myself in the middle of the picture of destitution: no food, flocks, or hope. This task was not difficult.
Then the remainder of this passage is the part we are to dwell on, relying on my heavenly Dad’s strength, and how I go about that, one choice at a time. My struggle, even almost 9 months later, is how to get from “have to” to “get to.” THAT is the journey that is the rockiest for me. Do you understand what I mean?
I looove my job. I now hate the thought of getting out of bed in the morning, even though I am not asleep. This was not so a few months ago, so I guess this is just a newer part of my journey. It’s not that I don’t want to go to work, I just don’t want to get out of bed.
There are other things in my life: I want to create and give cards of encouragement. I don’t want to sort, think, or make a mess that means I will have to take more time to clean up. What the heck?!?!?! When was that ever an issue? Now.
This “feeling/dread” even affected the bike outing Taylor and I signed up for. Every week it got closer, instead of the anticipation of, “We get to!” we dreaded everyday it drew closer. The final day was spent convincing ourselves that this was what was best for us, even if it didn’t feel like it.
Again with the question, only in reverse: When does the “get to” stop becoming a “have to”?
“Father, if you are willing, please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”
Bottom line: it isn’t…for a while. “Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.” There is meaning in this ugliness. Just because I don’t have a clue what it is, does not mean it’s not there. The other thing we are covering in Grief Share is that when we get to a certain point we are suppose to become a conduit for comfort, not at container. A couple of our Grief Share group has helped each other and plan on continuing as our containers try to stay full enough to spill over onto those around us. With faith and healing, we will.
For now, there are no answers. I can pray, choose to do the next right thing (even when I don’t want to), and know that someday when I am further along in my healing, I will meet someone else who doesn’t want to get out of bed. I can humbly tell them I understand where they are coming from and ask,”What can I do to help?” Then I will take the time to listen.
Until tomorrow: Blessings!