The Gift of a Rainy Monday
It was a dreary, unusually cool, and rainy Monday in August. Most everyone I bumped into in the office had a case of not just the Mondays, but the dreary, rainy, end of summer vacation season Mondays - the worst possible kind. Even our most characteristically cheerful employee stumbled to the elevator at 5:30 burdened and prematurely weary from the responsibilities of the week. As our paths intersected she was lamenting the day but noticed that I appeared to be somehow untouched by the pervasive mood of the office. "You don't look bothered at all!" She exclaimed. This was definitely a more unusual occurrence as I am the one prone to melancholy when the weather is less than perfect and subject to feeling - and displaying - over-burdened. I explained that my disposition was a result of working from home in the morning, going to a late morning appointment and only being in the office since half past noon. But there was more to it than that.
My appointment this morning was to talk to a mentor about the book I'm writing - the book borne out of that time that I so desperately wanted to leave this world. One question he asked, of many, was whether I was depressed now. To which I could happily answer with a smile, "no!" In fact, I probably feel the best I ever have mentally at present, being not just full of joy, but overcome by the most wonderful peace. These days are most precious to me, as I have found peace to be decidedly evasive. It seems to flee from me as mysteriously as it comes; though prayer, contemplation, study, and time with the Lord have certainly helped to usher in this present peace as well as those times of peace that came before. I then quickly added on to my response, "Praise God!" He agreed that God ought to be praised for this great mercy. God has saved me from myself in every way. God saved my soul many, many years ago when I came to Him through Christ. God saved me from destroying myself on that day 6 years ago. God is still saving me through the renewal of my mind and the cleansing of my heart. God be Praised!
Today was a day to reflect on the gift of life, the gift that is most precious because I almost robbed myself of it. I know I don't take time to be grateful for this gift as often as I should. It's easy to just put my head down and charge forward through the harried and hustled life of an overly ambitious career mom, never thinking about how these days were not promised and were nearly stolen. But it's so important to stop, breathe in the grace, and breathe out thanksgiving. Giving it some contemplation, in the past 6 years I would have missed out on my two older kids' high school graduations, my oldest daughter's wedding, and the opportunity to travel the world in my current job. But the biggest thing I would have missed is my amazing 3 1/2 year old, who would never have been born. I just can't imagine a world without her in it.
I owe not only so much gratitude to my Lord God who saved and rescued me, but also to the man who walked through those dark times with me, my beloved husband. He sacrificed so much to keep me going when I was at my worst. At the mentor's suggestion, this evening I googled and watched an old interview of Mike Wallace of 60 minutes fame and his wife, where they talked about his struggle with depression and his attempted suicide. So many times during the interview he reached over to his wife, touching her hand. The interview was 20 years after his attempt and his wife, his partner in life for richer, poorer, sickness, and health, was an instrumental part of his getting help and managing his condition. I recognized the bond and the special love between them for having gone through such an ordeal together. My husband and I have that same bond. Most days I forget how hard it must have been for him to enter into my fog the way he did. He fought for me when I would no longer fight for myself. And the selfish broken heart that I have sometimes still doubts the love that he has for me.
This evening, shortly before the now pre-schooler's bedtime, he played with her on the floor and she was giggling up a sweet chorus of pure bubbling laughter that filled the room and my heart with joy. There is no greater sound on earth than the sound of childhood glee, especially of a little girl enraptured by her silly daddy. How blessed I am to have these two, he who kept me alive, and she who came because I stayed alive. What gifts! After our little one was safely tucked into bed to dream about adventures with Daddy and Mickey Mouse, I was so overcome with gratitude. I looked at my beloved, my ballast, my protector, my fighter and whispered, "I love you. Thank you for keeping me alive."
"This is the day that the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24