Discouragement is a liar that roams the world looking for souls to bury, long before the life is over. It lures its victims into a warm, cozy den of self pity and resignation. It stalks us in our weakest moments of loss and disappointment, offering sweet, soothing words for the aching soul.
It’s just not fair, is it? Poor thing, you look so tired. Why don’t you stay awhile? It offers a cup of pity that seems to ease your pain.
A little while later, as you drift into a hazy death, you hear faint knock on the door. You try to rouse but the poison of sympathy has set in, and you’re unable to open your eyes. You can’t shake the intoxication, and all you want to do is sleep.
The rapt at the door becomes louder, a rowdy argument erupts and then you hear the violent upturning of furniture and things shattering as they crash to the floor. You hear a loud Thud! and moments later you smell smoke and hear the crackling of intense heat.
You fear the intruder will come after you, but you can’t move or hide.
You start to panic as you feel a gentle, firm tugging on your sleeve, urging you to awake. Wake up! Get up! It’s not too late!
You finally open your eyes and realize it’s not discouragement pulling at you. It’s hope. And it’s set the place on fire.
Trues words were never spoken…or written… Dianec
Love it. Shelly
Awesome!
This was so good, I had to read it twice.
Thank you, Lisa. I’ve been in the burning house of discouragement many times in my life.
Thankfully, hope always come knocking for us, yes?
Thanks for your phone call the other day. I’m looking forward to returning it when I get a moment.
Like optimisticgladness, I had to read it twice, too.
You are incredible, Lori!
Love to you, Denise. You’re a blessing to me.
Awesome thank you. Today was a rough day my PTSD was at acute levels I appreciate you and your blog.
Love ,
Becki
I’m so sorry today was so hard for you…:( I hope you have a good night’s rest and that tomorrow brings new hope to you. Love to you.
Thank you.
I do have a fabulous psychiatrist but it is helpful to chat and connect with others that have this illness. thanks again for your blog.
Becki
poetry.
Stunning piece of writing there Lori!
Well, thank you…
I’ve known the slow death of discouragement all too well. But, thanks to God, I’ve also experienced the radical intrusion of hope.
It’s strange how slowly discouragement erodes the spirit. It’s almost impossible to notice…
Ever felt that way?
Honey you are preaching to the choir!!
I have felt that way for most of my adult life. Both the uplifting comfort and fulfillment of hope and faith. And the slow rotting of my soul and waking up in the valley of the shadow of death wondering how I managed to come this far and praying for hope to kick back in and get me the hell outta there! Your writing cut through to such truth, and familiarity, I can really relate to. Blessings to you!
Ah, the road to hell and back, and back to hell. I know this road well. Thankfully, now when I start walking toward hell, I can spot the sign-posts and it’s a shorter trek back.
I love how you described the process from the valley to hope. ‘slow rotting of my soul’, that’s deep, my friend…although I’m sad to know that you’ve suffered as I have, it’s comforting to know I’m not alone.
‘Joy shared is multiplied; grief shared is divided’, right? (I love that quote – wish I knew who came up with it).
Here’s to a continued journey with you.
Sweet Lori. Your comment gave me a wonderful tingle. How lovely! I know what you mean about the short cut. I praise God I too have found that.
‘Joy shared is multiplied; grief shared is divided’ A truly fabulous quote. A heartfelt AMEN to that.