Hold on to your hats, friends, because I’m about to do something I don’t do very often:Â I’m going to ask for help.
For reals.
Seriously, “the funk” has descended on the Speer home in full force during this time of joy and cheer. The depression and discouragement hangs like the thick, wet blanket it is, so heavy it’s almost tangible. Though we’ve decked the halls and trimmed the tree, strung up the lights and hung the holly, I’m still searching the depths of my soul for that elusive “Christmas spirit.” And though I’m trying VERY hard to be excited for my friends, who in their excitement are sharing pictures and posts of their new cars, ipads, giant tv’s, jewelry, trips, and new houses through the wonder that is Facebook, I can’t help but feel a great sadness when I look under our tree and see…NOTHING.
For so many reasons, and in so many ways, this is foreign territory to me. I’m usually an optimist. I can typically find the silver lining to any bad situation. I’m pretty self-reliant and will find a way to plow through whatever hardship, or difficulty, or pain I’m experiencing. I’m not used to depression. I don’t like feeling down. I try hard not to be a regular attender at pity parties, whether they be mine or not. But reality has hit us full force, and we’re in *that* place:
We’re out of money.
We’re out of options.
We’re out of hope.
And through it all, God seems to be silent.
As this unemployment drags on to unprecedented levels in our experience, we see no answers. We have cried out to God constantly. We have brought our requests, we have approached boldly in faith, we have asked…and asked…and asked, persistently. We have humbled ourselves, opened our hands, and sought His leading. We have committed ourselves to His purpose. We have searched our hearts and opened our minds to allow Him to remove whatever may be in the way between us and Him. We have thanked Him for the provision He has given thus far, and been grateful for the way He has sustained us. We have entrusted this whole process to Him, believing that He knows what’s best for us.
And still…nothing.
If I’m being totally honest, this whole “faith” thing is hard. This “trusting” is difficult. And there are moments – like yesterday – when we are tempted to give up. To quit the struggle. To give in to the doubts, fears, and depression that nag away at our soul and weary our spirit. To allow the stress and pressure to divide us from one another and tear us apart, internally and externally.
It’s at times like these that I desperately need to know that God’s word is true. That He is who He says He is. That those promises He made throughout scripture are real. That He will stand by and honor His commitment. That nothing – and I mean *nothing* – about Him is in any way flawed, or misunderstood, or corrupt, or wrong. That He is as solid and unmoveable as a Rock, that He is absolutely, completely, and utterly secure. That He is totally faithful. That I can count on Him, no matter what.
As I look into the stories of the great men and women of faith, I long to be like them. I desire to leave a legacy of godliness and faith in the midst of desperate circumstances. I want to be characterized by an obedience and commitment to following Him in the face of great challenges and difficulties. I crave the kind of intimacy and fellowship they had with Yahweh…Jehovah…Adonai…Abba. Despite their shortcomings and failures, they were chosen as His examples to us: examples of faith, of trusting, of obedience, of commitment.
So how appropriate is it, then, that this funk descends during the time of year when we celebrate Immanuel…God With Us. The fulfillment of hundreds – even thousands – of years of promises, of waiting, of searching and hoping and dreaming. God with us physically, as His Son shed his kingly robe of God-ness for an earthly suit of humanity. God with us existentially, as the One not bound by time stepped out of eternity for a lifespan of 33 years. God with us philosophically, as His teachings became living epistles, a spoken word, a healing touch. God with us spiritually, as He conquered death to live again.
It is that nearness that we so desperately cling to. It is that closeness that will assure us of an end to our troubles. It is that intimacy that will be our strength through whatever may lie ahead. It is that promise – Immanuel, God is with us – that will be our joy, our hope, and our strength.
It is that promise – Immanuel, God is with us – that will be our help.
And it is on that promise – Immanuel, God is with us – that we will have peace.
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxT6p-WIWGw[/youtube]