It’s a beautiful autumn day here. The sun is shining and there are just a handful of puffy, white clouds speckling the pale blue sky. There is a slight breeze and the air is just barely beginning to feel a touch cool. A cozy sweater will be called upon in a couple more hours. I sit on my porch, watching the flag sway ever so gently in the breeze. A neighbor is mowing his lawn and our dog has expectantly joined me, eager for my attention and love.
I should feel calm and at rest. There should be an air of contentment around my heart. Yet, on this picture perfect day, all I know is emptiness. My husband and daughter are at church. They drove off yet again without me. I have lost all desire to go to church. I haven’t had any form of personal devotions for months. Quite frankly, I have felt abandoned by my local church, and in turn, I have felt abandoned by God Himself. I don’t get the texts, calls or emails anymore from those wondering how I’m doing and why I missed church. I know that people just assume that it is due to my illnesses, which does contribute part of it. Mostly though, I’ve just lost my fight to keep the faith. I don’t even feel guilty for saying that. My only hesitation, my only concern, is if my lack of faith will be a detriment to my children. My son will be getting released in just over a month and I know he will need his mom to be strong and to pray for him. Obviously, my daughter is with me day in and day out. I don’t know how much she senses my religious fatigue, or if she just blames it on my health. I know it would hurt her sweet spirit if she knew what was really going on in my mind.
I’m pretty sure my ongoing battle with depression is playing into all of this, but I frankly feel too weary and too ambivalent to do anything about it. I just have lost the desire to do much of anything. Oh sure, I can fake it for a while. I push on and put on my pretty facade to make it seem to the casual observer that all is well. Inside however, I feel like I am laying in the bottom of a small boat on a perfectly still lake. I may drift this way or that, but I care not enough to sit up and see which direction the boat is headed. I drift from my family, my faith, my friends, even from myself. There is no wind for my sail and I have not the energy to raise a sail even if there were. I am quite content to just lay my head down, listen to the lonely lapping of the water against the side of the boat, and drift away.
Mom Musings 