When I was in grad. school, I had to take several school counseling classes. I remember this one textbook that we read. It talked about what depression is, and what it looks like in kids. "Depression," the book explained, "is not a permeating feeling of sadness or loss. Rather, someone who is depressed doesn't seem to feel much of anything--no joy, suffering, interest of any kind. It's like seeing the world in grays, rather than in color."
Hmm. Good to know. I think about it now when things make me sad, because I have come to realize that I won't ever be depressed. Ever. I just don't have it in me. When I get sad, I definitely feel sad. And when I'm happy? Or silly? Or excited? Shoot, the whole world knows! I pretty much wear my heart on my sleeve, in all its array of colors, for good or bad. It drives me crazy, being completely transparent, but I guess it is what it is. And it doesn't seem to be going away.
Take today, for example. Several weeks ago, we found out that one of our favorite families may be moving. As the events unfolded, it became clear that it is, in fact, God's will for them to go a couple of hours south of here. It's actually been amazing to see God work in the lives of our friends. To witness firsthand how He's illuminated the path for them the entire way makes it so obvious to me, that for me to begrudge Him taking them would be for me to be in disobedience, plain and simple. I want them to be in God's perfect will for them, and can't wait to see how it continues to unfold for their family! Really! I am sad that some of my children's favorite playmates will be a little farther away, and am grieving the relocation of a great friend, but was doing pretty well with the whole thing, all things considered. It has been easier to be happy for them, knowing how unbelievably the entire thing has happened, even down to the smallest detail.
Then, after being together with them in church this morning, along with some other really great friends who are also on the cusp of relocating, we went to our favorite restaurant for lunch. The restaurant was closed. There was a sign on the door, though. It read, "We are sorry that we will be closing, effective this week. We hope that you will stay in touch with us, as some of our patrons are like family," and gave contact information. And seriously, they kind of ARE like family. It's an Indian restaurant, and Kaela's first real table food was from there. They know our children, where we like to sit, all about our church, and they've met our families. Ben's girlfriend works there--they are totally in love, just ask him. And we know them. We know their families, know their individual stories of moving to America, rejoiced when our favorite server finally got the girl of his dreams to marry him....just silly stuff, really, born out of the kind of relationship you develop when you're with the same people regularly for years.
I read the sign on the door, then climbed back into the car to wait for Eric to join me (we drive separately on Sundays because of choir and his penchant for, um, moving slowly in the mornings...). And by the time he got there, he was all blurry and my lip was trembling, and I could feel the snot beginning to flow....
...and as soon as he asked me what was wrong, I began to blubber. Buh-lub-er. "I don't know WHY things change, and I hate that this stupid restaurant is closed, and why do our friends all move away, and don't you know that if we moved back to the country that I could go up to the little local store and know all 10 guys with no teeth hanging out there in the rocking chairs--AND their mamas and daddies and kids....people don't move away there, and you get to live your whole lives with your friends, and what's so great about New York City anyway, and why does DAVID think he may need to go there too, now?!" and this torrent of JIBBERISH came spewing out. Seriously. What's that line from Macbeth we had to memorize? "It was a tale told by an idiot--full of sound and fury, and signifying nothing." Yep. That's the kind of rant it was. Not one of my finer moments...
And Eric absorbed the whole messy display, took it all in, then....laughed. Laughed!! He first asked me if I was serious--did I really want to move back to the place where the guys all had no teeth?? Then told me that I was such a GIRL.
It made me furious at first. I wanted to slam the car door and just drive away. But then I realized that if any of my stupid brothers had been around, they would have done the exact same thing--only I probably would have found my nose in one of their armpits, additionally, or had to eat some carpet because they would smoosh my face into the floor while telling me to get a grip and quit being ridiculous....
....and after a good cry, I had to laugh, too. Because that is, after all, how I came to be this picture of mental health that you see before you today. Inevitable joys and sorrows, peaks and valleys, punctuated with regular and frequent ridicule. HA!
SO...I'm still sad. But God has been faithful in the past, He's faithful in the now, and I know He'll continue to be faithful with the things yet to come. The smallest little details have not escaped His attention. We have a few months to get used to the idea of our friends moving. We have phones, and email, and Facebook, and a book club that isn't too far away to come back to visit. I know He's working out the details for them, too, with school for their children, the perfect home, and brand new friends for my friend--in addition to those old friends from here. We're continuing to pray that way.
And now, I guess I need to go give my brother in the basement a big hug. Goodnight!
