A breakup letter.

Dear Winter,

Have we really become that couple? You know, the one that calls it off and then gets back together week after week? I feel like we have. I mean, you were gone, weren't you? I didn't like it one bit, but you left me with hardly a weeks notice.

But wasn't always this way. I remember when I was young; you were solid then. My birthday? Christmas? You never missed a single one. I would wake up and run downstairs knowing you'd be right outside the door. Those were fun, innocent times full of smiling and laughter. I remember being amazed by you.

You came around less and less over the years, but it never really bothered me then. I was growing up and getting ready for college, and you were somewhere off in the east coast most of the time(or at least that's what I heard). Sure we had a few days here and there where we would meet up, but for the most part we just didn't cross paths all too much. And that was okay.

And then I moved out of my parent's place. It was a difficult time for me. I had no job, and little in the way of friendships. I was lost, and didn't know what to do next. But there you were, as an old friend I had forgotten, showing up just as I needed you. You gave me a job opportunity, and I'm still thankful for that.

Remember that first year up on the hill? It was like a dream. You supported me long into spring. Just when it seemed like you gave all you could, I'd fall in wonder at a fresh dusting of new blessings. I remember gliding through everything, feeling like I was atop clouds. It was all so perfect.

Until you left. I mean, we both knew it was coming. You had business in new Zealand and elsewhere halfway across the world. But it was still a sad time full of uncertainty. What would I do without you? What could I do but hang in there and await your return?

You were so different though when you came back. Changed somehow. I expected to see you late December, but you didn't show until a month later. Do you know how hard that was, just waiting and wondering if you would even be there at all? I don't know how I made it though. But even when you did come back, you were hardly there. I couldn't have the same fun that I remembered. I know some of it was my second job, and me being more busy. Life happens like that. But you hardly even tried it seemed like. And before I knew it you were gone again.

That was a good time for me. I learned to be sufficient without you. I learned how to thrive even. I almost forgot about you.

But the cycle came around again like it always does, and there you were again. It seemed routine at that point, so I didn't think much of it. I knew you were coming back, and I knew we would play this game again.

I was fine until I saw you. All freshly powdered, you looked so pretty that first day. I had forgotten how beautiful you could make everything around you seem. Of course, I ended up falling for you again. I suppose I hoped the old you was back, the one I remembered from a couple years back. I wanted to believe it could be magical again.

I put too much pressure on you, raised it up to be this thing you could never deliver on. I'm really sorry for that. But it doesn't change that fact that you became fickle, and flaky. You would come almost weekly with new promises, and they would melt within days. I don't think you actually caused me to smile once this year. I more just bared your presence as a means to an end.

There were times when I'd look to the sky with hope, but that hope would quickly fade. I just remember cloudy days, riddled with rain. I remember feeling chilled to the bone with your presence, but not knowing how to get rid of you. It was dark, and hopeless.

You sort of solved that for me by leaving. As you left, things immediately brightened up. I could see the sun again, and felt warm for the first time in what felt like an eternity. There was laughter.

But, of course you weren't done. A part of me was glad to see you come back. As you settled, it seemed like you were finally here to stay. You seemed solid again, and deep. I believed at first that you weren't going anywhere. That's why it hurt so much when I decided it was time for me to pack up and leave. I knew in my heart (and so did everyone else) that you would be leave again.

And so I took action. I moved on. I thought it was finally for good. I was free of this. I was free of you. I began to see this wide open future full of possibility. I began to have hope for new life and bright things. I brought out clothes I hadn't worn in ages because I could never wear them around you. I was even thinking about planning a road trip to the coast just because I could. I was ready to feel the warmth of a new season.

But there you were again last night, showing up at my doorstep. And of course I can't say no. How could I? I just don't have that kind of power. So I let you stay, and tried to make the best of it. I even thought for the briefest of moments that you would wouldn't go, at least not for a while. I even got to liking the idea of being with you again. But here I am feeling cold, knowing that you're already dissolving away. If I'm honest with myself, chances are that every sign of you being here will be gone by the time I finish this letter.


So I'm finally taking action; making a stand. You need to leave for good Winter. I can't keep doing this. I need more. I know we had a good thing before. But that's gone. I need color in my life. You can't come back. It's over. I choose sunny days, and birds, and rainstorms, and life. You just can't give me that. You're cold, you're clouded, you remind me of dead things.

Leave and don't come back. Seriously.

The overthinking believer

I think too much.

Way too much.

Seriously. About anything and everything, big and small. Relevant and irrelevant. I just can't stop. I've tried many times. But it doesn't do me a lick of good. My mind just keeps going and going with no signs of stopping.

This has, historically speaking, caused a ton of worry in my life. It's even to the point that I've been known to recount entire conversations over and over in my head just to analyze, and see if I said something but meant something else. It's a wonder I'm not one of those high strung personalities that goes and goes and goes, and overworks and over stresses himself.

I blame a chemical imbalance for this lack of "drive". I've had it as long as I can remember. I just don't seem to have the ability to go above and beyond in most cases. My life consists of hanging in there just enough to get by, and that's all I can do.

I call it a blessing though, because it forces me to realize I don't have control. With my over thinking, I would become overly confident in myself and my ability to be "on top of things", had I the proper energy. I would forget that I am ultimately useless when it comes to choosing my path in life.

Because I really am just along for the ride. Sure, I can make life decisions big and small. But, it's really not up to me. Which, is a good thing because I really do not know what is best for me. Sure, I have some ideas. But those change with the seasons, and I'm indecisive.

But God, who is completely unchanging, is not. So His plan for me is His plan for me, and will never change. Better than that even, He loves me. So His direction for my life consists of amazing things for me. Things so good I can't even imagine. And that's an extreme comfort. I know with confidence that no matter what I do, or where I end up, I am going to be blessed beyond measure because He calls me son.

Sweet.

So, where does this leave my brain that loves to overthink?

Well, I for one think that my thoughts still have a purpose in light of the gospel of grace. Worry has no place, that's for sure. But that's not to say thoughts about anything and everything are inherently bad. God gave my my brain, and God gave me my reason to go along with it.


And when worry is taken out of the equation, it becomes a great asset. I get to meditate on the wonders of this life and world we've been given. I get to dig as deep as I can into the infinitude of the character of Christ. I get to find new ways to explain my experiences, and the world around me. And best of all, I get to reveal to others small hints of what God has revealed to me. My overthinking is then turned around into a method of inspiring and uplifting those around me in the Truth of the Word.


When separated from worry, my thoughts have great value.