Peaks and Troughs, Part 2

It has been eighteen months since I posted on "peaks and troughs" and C.S. Lewis calls the ups and downs, mountains and valleys of our lives in his The Screwtape Letters. I read back over that post, and was glad for the reminder of how the conversation between Screwtape and his nephew Wormwood goes when Screwtape suggests a "peak" is more successful:

“You mean bring him to a peak?” Wormwood asks.  “But why?  Isn’t it more useful to us when he is in a trough?” 

“No!” Screwtape thunders. “When the patient is in a trough is when the Enemy does His greatest work. It is then the patient will turn to the Enemy and cleave to Him for help.  This makes the patient’s dependence and love for the Enemy even greater.  You must bring the patient to a peak.”

 

When the "Enemy" does His greatest work...I surely hope so.

 

For just as life always is, the peak has disappeared and my trough often seems so deep I can't see over the edge. The view is as dismal as Texas.

 

Which seems like half the problem, at least: Texas. I just want to go north. Cooler weather, beautiful foliage, the promise of winter.

 

And it never rains but it pours. Work, personal things...it all piles up. I feel exhausted by the end of the day, don't want to do anything on the weekends or really care to see anyone. I don't write much because I can't seem to get my thoughts together. I still read - it's ever an escape. And wonder if this trough will ever come to an end.

 

Hope is a brutal word. We hope...and nothing comes of it. So, we despair...and then hope again. Yet where would we be without hope? Always in despair? As much as it can hurt, the thought of no hope is worse.

 

I am grateful that my God doesn't change. He knows. He always knew these things would happen. And I must trust it is for the best. Even though He doesn't seem to be listening, I'm not sure which direction is right and the answer to every prayer is "no". I just keep reminding myself He is my Father. He wouldn't hurt me out of spite anymore than my earthly father would. He holds me in the hollow of His hand. And He does hear...even when He is silent. Trust. I have to trust.