Standing with my face to a black granite wall, I feel along for an opening that is not there. The setting sun behind the block leaves me already in shadow. Over my shoulder the fading sun makes the empty desert turn orange. Keeping one hand on the surface, I lean back and strain to see the top; beneath the darkening sky, the slab rises to such a high extent I cannot see. Looking left and right, the stone barrier diminishes to the horizons. My throat is parched; my lips, dry and cracked. My eyes are red and swollen from the tears that drained the last milliliter of water from my aching head. Alone. No life around me. I press my face against the wall; maybe someone on the other side will feel its changing temperature and show me the way through. This is depression.
However (and that is huge “however”!), for a Christ-follower, this is not the end.
But until that Day arrives, I will stand by the wall and wait.
“Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in the Grave, you are there!
If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,’
even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.” Psalm 139:7-12
“Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in Yahweh, The God Who Is.
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” Habakkuk 3:17-18
I know someday
I know somehow
I’ll be okay
But not right now
Not right now