Hope for a Hopeless Day

6 years ago, my battle with postpartum depression started.

4 years ago, I recognized and accepted depression would be something that may never leave me.

3 months ago, I was injured and had to stop running after being consistent for 1.5 years… running helped me fight those dark days. I credited running to feeling the best I had felt, mentally and physically, in 6 years.

I lost running around the time I lost my dog. I lost running around the time the reality of our move had settled in. I lost running when the cold stark grey days of my first northern Illinois winter moved in.

I was so fearful of what was next. Was I going to dip into the darkness for longer periods of time without my running? Was I going to start obsessively worrying about my body image? Was I strong enough to find other ways to help my spirits? Would I lose all that I had worked for the last 18 months?

“WHY GOD!? WHY? Why did you take away the ONE thing that I thought you gave me to fight? The one thing that stayed constant in my life after so many changes? The one thing that I could turn to and know would always give me the boost I needed?”

And yet… Jesus Himself was all of that. He IS all of that. I have been reminded over these past months that it is not the running that saves me and that helps me grow stronger… it is the acceptance that “when I am weak, He is strong.”

This morning was tough. We’ve been struggling with sickness in our house again which carries its own bag of difficulties… exhaustion, isolation, loneliness, restlessness. These can be triggers for me, especially the feeling of being closed in and stuck. It is so easy to let my mind race back to my past struggles when triggered if I am not careful. As I drove to drop the older kids off at school the day loomed before me like an endless chasm. The stabbing physical pain of emptiness kept punching me in the heart. How could I do this day? Hopelessness started to overwhelm my mind and my years of training “what to do when down” kicked in.

Running.

Nope can’t do that.

Visiting my friends?

I am still in the baby stages of forming friendships.

And in that moment, I had a choice. I could choose to throw a massive pity party for myself and let my emotions and feelings entrench me, or I could choose to do something else. God gave me the strength to do the latter because if it was fully up to me, I would have started to blow up the balloons.

The sun was deceptively bright and though it was only 25 degrees I decided to take a walk. Making a mental note not to look at the clock, I started to gather layers of clothing for Colin and I.  This reminded me of the joy that mindfulness can bring… the way being right here and right now allows for the pain of hopelessness to melt away.  

As I started to walk down the street with Colin on my back and the sun shinning brightly on my face,

I took a deep breath in and no longer felt trapped. Blood pumped through my very alive body and I was thankful to be here sharing this time with my son. After a mile I asked Colin if he was cold and wanted to go home to which he vehemently replied “NO!” Smiling, we marveled at the beauty of the frozen ponds, spotted robins which brought with them the hope of spring and giggled as I carefully stepped over ice patches.

Walking back into the house I felt so much lighter. God’s beauty and the reality that I was strong enough to have chosen to seek it filled me with hope. The joy in the present moment helped carry me the rest of the day. 

I will run again and when I do I will glorify God. I will feel down again and when I do I will remember that He is strong. The cold of darkness feels awful but the warmth of the sun will come again.

Take hope! You are not alone!