Less than zero ~ climbing up out of the muck.

Visual harmony.

I drink it in on my early morning walks.

The pleasing balance in nature.

Against the canvas of sunrise, trees tower above. Barren branches effortlessly outstretched into the expanse of sky.

Reaching out for spring.

Subtly they sway in the blustery winds of almost-March.

Roots below hold steadfast and strong. Patiently awaiting the thawing of earth. The grasses that carpet the ground dressed in complementary hues.

Bits of beige.

Tones of taupe.

The colors of the season ~ this exquisite blending.

Winter’s landscape.

Scenery that will be changing soon.

A new beauty to behold.

How grateful I am for the seasons.

Their changing patterns of color.

Patterns of weather that restore balance.

For in them is hope.

Hope that I too, a creation of God, am capable of change.

---

The other day, I found myself in the pit.

That ugly place of discouragement that brings out the very worst in me. I had spent hours wallowing in self-pity.

Drained by the drudgery of my life. Caught-up in comparison. My happiness drowned-out by the chatter of complaining.

A recipe for misery.

By evening I was clamoring to find my way out. I’d forgotten how steep the slopes of selfishness can be.

If only I had listened.

…

The warning was there.

My daily devotional that morning read clearly:  Be on guard when you are weary, for that is when the enemy can most easily ensnare you in his trap.

But I had been caught.

Fallen deep into the pit of despair.

It had been quite awhile since I’d found myself in that dark and disgusting place. But looking back, I can see now that had been tip-toeing around the entrance.

Overwhelmed and overscheduled, I hadn’t been taking time to rest in the arms of Scripture.

My spirit was worn down.

And this body worn out.

It felt like my life had been reduced to breadwinner, taxi-driver, counselor and house-keeper. A sense of unfairness and disparity loomed.

All of this responsibility, dropped in my lap almost ten years ago.

I recalled the demons of divorce.

And that’s when I relinquished my peace.

The old familiar tentacles of sin reached up through the mire an pulled me down. It felt like a decade of resentment wrapped slimy and grotesque around my heart.

Thoughts became deadly snares as I spun webs of anger in my mind.

Finding fault.

Breathing blame.

And exhaling excuses.

I couldn’t decide where the liability should land. On him or the alcoholism?

In my misery I decided on both.

They didn’t just leave us with nothing.

They stole so much from our family. Demolishing dreams. Abandoning hearts. Leaving us with a negative balance.

Leaving us at less than zero.

1 John 4:4 

You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the One who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.

This cunning conversation of the enemy kept me from recalling the opportunity they had left in their wake.

The beautiful void created in that negative space.

A spiritual vacuum of sorts.

Because of that pain I was at a crossroads.

I had the opportunity to jump into the arms of Christ or to jump into the clutches of despair. And all the while I wanted so desperately to find a place of peace.

In the quiet, Jesus reached out for me and pulled me up. He breathed life into that empty and longing space.

That place in time that the enemy meant for disaster, God meant for good.

Another triumph.

All for His glory!

He was writing my story then, even in the pain. That His JOY might forever be imprinted on my fragile and aching heart.

…

…

Grace is a gift.

The blessing of His constant and loving presence.

Christ’s willingness to meet us when we’ve fallen below the emotional equator. Menacing in the minus.

He reaches out His hand.

Pulling us up.

Again and again.

Because of His goodness, we can find our way out of that pit so much more quickly than we used to.

We can find our way out to love again.

Love that looks like sharing time at the breakfast table. Laughing. Talking. Working on a sweet, little spring puzzle together.

(My Sweet Louise and me : )

…

Scripture reminds us that we are always beautiful in His eyes. Whether we are writhing in the pit or standing on the mountaintop.

We are His children.

And He will forever pull us close.

Completely confounding the negative.

Bringing harmony, color and balance to any season of our lives.