I’m so tired.
My wife Lisa and I are at the tail end of a lengthy book tour. While I’m incredibly grateful for the exciting and rewarding opportunity, it’s been demanding and exhausting. We both got sick with lingering ear and sinus infections as we plowed through a seemingly endless stream of school visits, bookstore events, and flights around the country. In the midst of it all, my elderly mom had a serious health crisis which led to a week in ICU, and she’s facing a long and difficult recovery.
It’s one of those seasons. No amount of money, planning, or preparation can avoid them. Rain falls on us all from time to time. The only control we have is how we choose to respond to the storm.
I’m a glass-half-full person. I try to have a positive outlook, to see the cloud’s silver lining. That perspective provides energy and hope to move forward, and helps me avoid wallowing in destructive negativity.
But it can also lead me to slap a smiley-face bandage on a gunshot wound. I sometimes refuse to acknowledge real pain, subconsciously burying it deep to avoid facing the unanswerable questions suffering brings—why did this happen? What good can come of it? What’s the point of it all?
I’m trying to find my balance in this storm. To allow myself to recognize the biting flies and feel my aching feet as I trudge through this dark valley, while still lifting my eyes to the distant, beautiful mountain I’m heading toward. It’s not an easy task. But with time, rest, prayer, and the support of my inner circle, I’m finding my way.
If you’re in a winter season, acknowledge the frost and stinging cold. The treacherous footing. The difficult climb up the snow covered slope. But remember that however long the night, the sun will rise. Spring is coming. You’ll feel the warm breeze caress your face and breathe the delicate scent of flowers again. You are not alone on the road, and every struggling footfall brings you one step closer to Becoming Yourself.
