SOMETIMES . . .

[My life is no worse than that of anyone else I know, and in some ways, it's 'way better. Yet as daylight hours grow fewer, there's a part of me that wants to explore the darkness. This post appeared a couple of years ago, and I find it's still on target.]

If you're in need of an uplift today, you might want to change your dial to another blog. As November descends into the final run to the Winter Solstice, I find myself meandering around in deeper thoughts, such as:


- Sometimes . . . you don't need to leap out of bed just because the alarm rang.
What would happen if you hit the SNOOZE button and gave yourself 10 more minutes to prepare to meet the day? [The danger here is that you can hit SNOOZE time after time.]

- Sometimes . . . your greatest need is your own health.
Pushing yourself again and again beyond your normal limits may not be a good thing. Is the committee meeting going to fail because you aren't there? Will the office shut down because you need a mental health day? [We're not talking excuses here--we're looking at our own health.]

- Sometimes . . . another person's need is greater than yours.
Ah, there's the rub. How do I assess someone else's need? Is it a 10 today? Or merely a 4? Perhaps only a 2. Forget the numbers. Look at what's being asked of you--a few minutes on the phone; a cup of coffee at the shop where you can talk without being interrupted; a helping hand because nobody else will do it; or a request for prayer.

- Sometimes . . . life is totally unfair--day after day.
You have arthritis. Your hearing is rapidly declining. Your appetite up and left you and you're losing weight your doctor is unhappy about. Your dog has to be put down. Your neighbor makes racket long after your normal bedtime (say, 10 PM). Or your family members are so wrapped up in their own problems they don't call/email/text. And if they do, they vent. [Hard to see a ray of sunshine in this scenario, isn't it? This is when I scrounge around for one thing--just one!--to be grateful for.]


- Sometimes . . . you just need to listen--seriously listen.
Not every appeal for help requires you to do something specific about it. Listening, really taking it in, is doing something. [You're not even required to remember what you heard. Just be an ear.]

- Sometimes . . . all you can do is cry.
When it all gets to be too much, have a good weep. Letting the valves open can be a great cleansing of overloaded emotions. Or if the hurt and grief are too deep for tears, write about it--talk to yourself or the person you grieve for or to God--and put it on paper. Later you can shred the pages, because they've done their part in allowing you a place to pour out your feelings.

- Sometimes . . . all you can do is laugh.
When it's too much for a good cry, laugh! There are still some things in my life that haven't got to the laughing stage, but a great many have. [You may recall the hard-boiled eggs on the kitchen ceiling episode. I can laugh, now.]

- Sometimes . . . all you can do is walk away. You can't fix it. Maybe nobody can but God.
This is probably the hardest of all. We need courage to admit that we can't "fix" something--that the only thing we can do is express our caring, if that's possible, and pray for relief.

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You were warned--this isn't a feel-good post. But then, Life isn't always a feel-good place to live, is it? Sometimes . . . we just have to grit our teeth and get on with things.

Wishing you a blessed week.