I've been watching a show on Facebook this week called Sorry for Your Loss. It stars Elizabeth Olsen, who I adore, and it focuses on her grief journey and all the mixed emotions there after the death of her husband. It is very well done, heartbreaking and relatable.
One of the characters on the show struggles with depression, and he describes the experience in a way that hit home for me (and many, many others according to the comments): "She thinks it's like a fog because someone described it like that in an article or something, but that's not how it feels to me. It's the opposite. It feels like a bracing wind that blows the fog away and reveals the whole truth of the world underneath. And everyone else is in the fog. They can't see it, but I can. And it's all ugly and hopeless. The disease isn't dangerous because it tells me lies; the disease is dangerous because it tells me the truth."
I absolutely understand what he's saying there. Particularly through the past year, there is so much pain and loss and suffering in the world, and people who are more naturally sensitive and empathetic feel it when those around them are hurting or anxious or numb or just filled with anger they don't know how to process. It's a lot. It can feel overwhelming and paralyzing sometimes. And yes, it can feel like most of the people who seem happy all the time are living in a fog and being a bit fake and insensitive and ignorant to the deep suffering around them...
But I had to remind myself yesterday that there is a deeper level of truth at play here. There's the surface-level happiness of people who are oblivious to the pain of others and working to numb their own pain. There's the melancholy near-depression angst of those who are aware of the darkness around them and trying to live constantly aware of that reality. And then there is the REAL and deep joy and resiliency of those who understand that the darkness and suffering are real, but also know that we have an unshakable and eternal hope through Jesus. That there is a light that shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it. That at the deepest level, we are seen and loved and valued even when we feel most alone and forgotten and insignificant.
I won't go into too much detail here, but I needed that reminder. John Eldredge talks about the major and minor themes in Scripture... saying that the minor theme is suffering, disappointment, loss, and darkness. But the major theme is resurrection, life, breakthrough, and triumph. Both are a part of our lives, and both matter. Our culture and the pandemic and other losses we've all experienced can make it tempting to major in the minors... to put too much attention on the darkness. But we do not grieve like those who are without hope. God is light, and there is no darkness in Him. Let us press on to know Him. ❤
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