top of page
Search

Looking Up

Writer's picture: Deahna TiptonDeahna Tipton

Updated: Oct 7, 2022

Emotions are such fickle things, no? I find it annoying and a particularly difficult pill to swallow that we as humans can be so influenced by something so unreliable. One moment we are on top of a seemingly perfect, beautiful, wondrous world. The next, we are bogged down with endless reasons to feel afraid, angry, hurt, or anxious. Often times I've noticed that the emotions that drag me down are absolutely unfounded, and a quick word of encouragement from my husband or a "what the heck am I even so upset about?" can remedy it. Other times though, reason alone does me no good. The unendingly undulating peaks and valleys keep coming. Up and down. The "Wow, things are really fantastic right now" quickly followed by "I'm just in a rut." It's exhausting.


Have you ever asked yourself why? I know I have. Don't get me wrong, the peaks are not what I take issue with. I think those highs are a window through which even the hardest of hearts can glimpse the truth - that beauty here on earth points to a greater Beauty elsewhere. For those blessed enough to recognize the fingerprint of the Lord in those moments, it is a gifted opportunity for praise and thanksgiving as well as a promise of the unfathomable good that is to come. Sometimes, it is in those moments that we can actually feel close to our Creator and our Lord (though I think it pertinent to clarify that we can be close to the Lord without particularly feeling that closeness, thank God).


But what about those dang valleys? What purpose does that serve? I think it isn't a stretch to say that our society has deemed periods of time in which we experience any loneliness, despair, and emotional hardship in general as a problem to be fixed (for the sake of clarity, I am not addressing actual severe clinical issues of depression, anxiety, etc. - only negative feelings which are common and universally felt by all). And goodness I understand why. They sure do seem like they are miserable feelings which serve no purpose.


Christmas this last year changed that for me. As I celebrated the birth of Jesus with new eyes, I saw for the first time the beauty and perfection of His humility. Not just that He came, but the way that He came. He came as a baby, who would be desperately in need of others for care and security. He came as a poor boy on the run, without the comforts that He could have so easily secured. He became a man who would carry the knowledge of the tragic pain and death that He would one day suffer. He felt that pain, that anxiousness, that fear which we so intimately glimpse in the accounts of His passion in the Garden of Gethsemane. He even felt lonely and abandoned.


Haven’t you ever wanted a friend to just meet you where you are? That will simply hold you in the depths of the valley that you are in, letting you know it will all be ok? A friend who just...gets it?


This is our friend.


Pain is no stranger to Jesus. Loneliness is no stranger to Jesus. Darkness is no stranger to Jesus. He doesn't love us only when we are standing on top of that mountain seeing everything He has done so clearly. When we are in the worst of it - the bad, the ugly, the unspeakable - He is right there. Seeing us. Loving us. Supporting us. Transforming us, if we let Him.


Don't our souls feel that though? Isn't it true that sometimes we find ourselves at the very bottom, and that's when we run to Him - out of pure desperation? And this is where I had my "Aha" moment.


If those lows bring me to Him...how can that be bad? If those lows bring me to finally surrender to Him those things in myself that I have been holding back...how could they be pointless? How could they be something to simply distract myself from? They remind me of my poverty. And that is a gift! Because I need Him. Every day. All day. Forever.


In this way, hardships become blessings. Voluntary sacrifices, even those seemingly inconsequential but offered up nonetheless, become opportunities to not only strengthen our will but also to give to Him who gave everything for us. The valleys of our life become the place where we meet Him, our Savior.


Friends, as a wise man I know has said many times, we simply do not have enough data to deem our hardships as truly bad if they bring us closer to our Lord. I could be wrong, but maybe that is why saints were able to suffer so joyfully.


He waits for you and I in the Mass. He waits for us in the quiet moments when we feel alone. He waits lovingly in the confessional, ready to offer forgiveness and healing. He waits and waits, never tiring to be there for us whenever we realize how much we need Him.


So whether we revel on the mountaintop, or trudge through the valley - let’s run to Him.

33 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Commentaires


bottom of page