The storm clouds rise and swirl like time-lapse photography and you just want to find shelter before the cold rain comes pelting down in big, thick drops. When it rains, it pours. The clouds turn black and you pull your coat closer, the thunder sounds and you shudder, the lightning strikes and you jump, the rain gushes down and you shrink in your seat like a crumpled paper cup.
Life can be heavy like a damp blanket, overwhelming like a messy apartment, and murky like the dark morning hours when the light bulb burns out. It’s days like this that make me want to hang my head, make me want to cry out into the night, that make me want to curl up and have someone tell me it will all be okay. Sometimes the phone rings and you don’t want to answer. Sometimes you don’t want to catch up with an old friend because the catching up means rehashing the past few weeks. And just when the burden is too much and you think you’re going to stumble and fall, you hear word from another far-flung friend and it’s more bad news.
Walk on. That’s what they sing, and that’s what I do. The only thing that keeps me planting one tired foot in front of the other is the warming light of the rising sun. There may not be a reason or a purpose to any of this, but there is a God somewhere in this world. There is a God who cares deeply about me, and so I somehow find the courage to crawl out of bed, to walk the dark, icy streets to the bus stop, to pick up the phone when the ringing shatters my humble morning. Life is not a bed of roses, and the knowledge of God doesn’t make the pain go away. It makes it bearable, and that’s all I can ask.