Do The Next Thing, Even When You Don't "Feel" Like It

Spanish Moss-covered trees tower over a picturesque swamp in South Carolina

I have had my fair share of heartaches.  Disappointments.  Let-downs.  That feeling of walking into a brick wall.  Whatever you want to call it, we've all been there done that.  So what?

This evening, as my baby girl played quietly by herself and my guy played his banjo, I decided to pull out my journal from the past year and skim over what our year was like.  Good gracious me.  It's a good thing I somehow found the time to journal about our lives and my feelings at the time, because I would never have believed it had someone told me.  Amidst the chaos of moving 4-1/2 hours south, relocating my husband's job, trying to get settled in our new home, caring for my family, trying out new churches, learning and applying healthy lifestyles, and the many changes that come with moving so far away from family (or anybody we even remotely were acquainted with), I think I grew up.

The pages of my rose-covered journal were filled with pain, loneliness and heartaches of the deepest kind this year.  At first glance, you would think that I was a miserable woman who wondered constantly, "What am I doing with my life?"  And, in all honesty, some days, I certainly felt like such a woman.

"I feel secluded, lost, blah, blah, blah," I wrote this past Summer. "I can not depend on anybody or anything because I will be miserable."

But, why would I be so miserable?  My marriage was one of the greatest gifts the Lord has ever bestowed upon me, and my husband is truly my best friend.  Poor guy didn't know how to comfort me sometimes.  And I can't get over the blessing of our little girl- my little joy walking around. :-)  Most days, these were the only friends I had.  And there is nothing wrong with that.  Family is supposed to be your closest friends.  But I was lonely and pained because I felt that we were all alone on an isolated island.  I felt that, even after the housecleaning, the caring for our daughter, the cooking, the laundry, etc, my days were growing to be very boring.  My husband worked unpredictable hours, and I would often miss him terribly.  And when I miss my guy, I want to crawl into bed, cuddle my baby, and do nothing with my time but watch a sappy Hallmark movie!

Day after day after day, I wondered what in the world we were doing with our lives and why did I feel this way when I had prayed and dreamed of becoming a wife and a mother so many times?  Why had the 'excitement' waned so much, now? I had everything in the world to be thankful for -- to be content with.  And as I read my journal entries, I found the problem.

I was too worried about so-and-so and what they might think.

Instead of creating a life full of beauty and simplicity and joy for my family, I was worrying myself sick about those I loved in distance places and what they thought of me and my life.  Instead of "looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith,"* sitting at His beloved feet, soaking up His Word to me each and every day, I was crumbling under the weight of anxiety and depression.

But although I'd love to wallow in my own self-pity and point the finger at others who may have caused it, I can't.  I brought it on myself.  And I didn't even know it.

I began opening my Bible each time I sat down for breakfast.  Something I had been in the habit of doing, but feeling down can make you feel like "throwing in the towel."  And even though I would pray and read His Word, the depression and anxiety did not magically disappear.  It did, however, improve greatly.  If I did nothing else for the day but care for and play with my little one, take care of my hard-working husband, pray and read sweet passages of Scripture, it was a good day.  Even if I didn't get to sweep and mop that day.  Or clean the bathrooms.  There would be time tomorrow for those things.

I still have bouts of depression and anxiety that come and go like waves.  But I have learned that instead of sitting curled up on the couch crying my eyes out, I just need to open myself up and lay down at my Lord's feet.  Give Him everything I am worried, anxious, sad, or depressed about.  Let Him pick up the pieces.  Let Him show me what to do.

Elisabeth Elliot loved this poem.  I often heard her recite it on her radio program years and years ago.  Her sweet voice reading these words came to me during those times of blah, of confusion.  And I was encouraged greatly:

From an old English parsonage down by the sea
There came in the twilight a message for me;
Its quaint Saxon legend, deeply engraven,
Hath, as it seems to me, teaching from Heaven.
And on through the hours the quiet words ring,
Like a low inspiration: DO THE NEXT THING.

Many a questioning, many a fear,
Many a doubt, hath its quieting here.
Moment by moment let down from Heaven,
Time, opportunity, guidance, are given. Fear not tomorrows, Child of the King, Trust them with Jesus. DO THE NEXT THING.

Do it immediately; do it with prayer;
Do it reliantly, casting all care;
Do it with reverence, tracing His hand
Who placed it before thee with earnest command,
Stayed on Omnipotence, safe ‘neath His wing,
Leave all resultings. DO THE NEXT THING.

Looking to Jesus, ever serener,
(Working or suffering) be thy demeanor.
In His dear presence, the rest of His calm,
The light of His countenance be thy psalm.
Strong in His faithfulness, praise and sing!
Then, as He beckons thee, DO THE NEXT THING.