he watered my peace lily....and things look different

i've been quite honest on social media the struggle that i have been going through with depression.  

i never ever EVER could have know what was stored inside the heart and mind of one suffering in a depressive state. 


now i know…


its black...

thick...

pulling  you down under...

its like dying and letting go of all you thought lived and breathed in your life before. 



today, in our daily chatter, charlie mentioned...

"i watered the peace lily"

oh that lucky peace lily!

it sits at the landing on our main staircase.

and like much, much, much in my life, it has been neglected.

 

 

lately, as i pull myself up those 110 year old stairs, and weakly get to the landing, i notice...but really don't care...

brown huge leaves hang onto the steps. 

those steps that desperately need swiffered.

i notice the brown dead leaves and feel a comradership with that sorry plant.

it's dying...and i'ts a PEACE lily...

and i brush by it as it dies...


in the mornings i walk down those steps...to the same landing where it sits....

the steps i walked down to my husband to be over 16 years ago. 

that plant that stands where i paused on my journey down the stairs, to look over all my loved ones gathered to witness our love....then for my soon to be husband to walk up to meet me, kiss my hand and walk me the rest of the way down to be his bride. 

that plant stands where charlie and his family carried me up up up, as we laughed ,in our new old cast iron bathtub to be installed....oh the excitement!

the plant that stands where our immense stained glass window was placed, until we recently removed it for repair.  that same stained glass window that one late evening charlie noticed a self portrait in the glass...a self portrait of the builder and prominent first owner of our home...

the plant that stands where i walked my babies....1, 2 3 to their beds.  sleepily walked them downstairs during the long nights they stayed awake.  the evenings that we carried them over our shoulders playfully to tuck them in bed or to race them to the bathtub....

the plant that stands where my kids must pause for me every christmas morning for the "oh my gosh, look what santa brought," picture.

the plant that sat there -  that kept dying...

even in the perfect light....

in front of us all....

in the spot that had so much meaning in our home and lives....

"you watered the peace lily?" i asked him almost in amusment...

(charlie really doesn't care about houseplants....)

"yes", he said, "and i trimmed off the dead leaves...it looks like it is springing back already."

 

i crawled in bed tonight with those thoughts on my mind....and not unlike most moments of the days and evenings lately, i burst into tears.

the signifigance

depression has a way of making you feel dead and but still slowly dying at he same time. 

it makes you feel hopeless...

everything you see about ME feels and looks unrepairable...ready to be cast out.

 

just like that peace lily

yet, someone- that someone who happens to be the man that i love, stopped, watered it, nurtured it, pruned it...and it is comping back alive. 

 

and i ponder....


am i coming back to life?


it doesn't feel like it yet....well, at moments...precious, scared moments, i get to breathe air that feels possibly life giving.

yes, moments that i snap out of it and laugh with my kids, and kiss them and feel pride...

moments that i lay my head  on my husbands lap for him to soothe me and love me in any way he can to help me.

moments, that i feel loved...moments i am prayed over...

moments i feel important...

unfortunately, unlike the peace lily, the life isn't emerging as quickly....

the pruning, the sunlight, the water...it is healing that poor neglected plant much more quickly than my unsettled heart.

so tonight, as i crawled into bed, and started to wipe my tears away, i thought of the peace lily, and it beginning to thrive again. and i had to shove back my favorite fluffy comforter and just had to come back down to my desk and write about the hope that those greening leaves are bringing to me.

soon, i know,  beautiful white flowers will bloom, and we will brush by them on that landing as we hurry through our daily tasks.  

my prayer...as my heart and life begin to start to bloom again...

may i never brush past what miracle of life has happened...

because i know it is happening and i know it will.

even if you see me...with tears running down my cheeks (as they do anywhere and everywhere i go lately), just know, as i do....i'm being watered, nurtured pruned, loved,...and somewhere deep deep down, i just know those hopeful soft, yet strong white blossoms are starting to sprout.

 

 Every time you cross my mind, I break out in exclamations of thanks to God. Each exclamation is a trigger to prayer. I find myself praying for you with a glad heart. I am so pleased that you have continued on in this with us, believing and proclaiming God’s Message, from the day you heard it right up to the present. There has never been the slightest doubt in my mind that the God who started this great work in you would keep at it and bring it to a flourishing finish on the very day Christ Jesus appears.  Philippians 1:6The Message (MSG)