Their razor-sharp claws dig relentlessly toward my heart, like a dog frantically excavating a rabbit hole only to gouge my soul and spirit along the way. The dirt sprays madly, flying in every direction. Sadness snorts it off his nose and continues, ravaged by passion, crazy with desire. He must own me.
I cry muffled sobs, hide and cower deeper within myself, realizing the futility of defense. Sadness tears on. He digs deep and will not rest until the job is done. I know that, and feel the sting of adrenaline in my chest.
Dread descends in waves in response to the scrape of his claws. Truly helpless, I cry out from the deep: Lord, save me!
I know well the fury of sadness as well as the faithfulness of Christ. The paradox freezes me - body, soul, spirit.
In the blackness of despair laced with hope, I wait for the snarling face-to-face encounter all the while panting and breathless with the anguish that comes from this kind of internal battle.
It comes, as emotional circumstances do.
Then I squint searching beyond the moment for just the tiniest glimpse the Light. It surely must be there?
Yes a glimmer!
Feebly, I reach tattered fingers toward that Light - but not in my own strength. The speck miraculously bestows Courage, and I begin the slow ascent out of the hole.
Sadness retreats, tucks his tail, whimpers as if scourged and blinded.
I, on the other hand, rise from the darkness with face uplifted - guided and empowered by the star of Bethlehem.
Ain't that the truth. But,
I don't think God wants to
keep us from being sad. If
we didn't have such horrible sadness, we wouldn't have much reason, for crawling across the uneven dirt and stony rocks that hurt our knees, to grab onto the base of the Cross.