I want this blog to reflect not only the peaks of my life, but the valleys as well. Lately, I haven’t been feeling well. My mood has taken a dip, and the timing worries me. Mary and I will soon be traveling to Texas to spend Thanksgiving with family, and on top of that, I have several ministry commitments this week. I’m afraid I won’t be fully engaged with others.
If I’m honest, I have to admit I’m frustrated—and disappointed. I’ve prayed specifically that I would be in good spirits and have a stable mind during the holidays. I genuinely want to be fully present for my wife and for everyone we’ll be with.
But here I am, walking through a valley I didn’t expect. During days like these, life seems to come to a screeching halt. Prayer becomes difficult, Bible study almost impossible, and my focus limited. It’s a strange kind of heaviness—one that slows everything down and makes even simple things feel like a climb.
So what do I do on days like this? I try as much as possible to stick with my daily routine. I make myself get out of bed. I keep up with my hygiene. I make my bed. Today I’ll have coffee with my dear neighbors, Paul and Faye. I’ll have breakfast at Johnny’s Diner. I’ll spend time with the Lord-thanking Him for the things I can still do. And I’ll make sure I get out and go for a walk. These small rhythms help steady me when my mind and emotions feel unsteady.
Yet even here, the Lord meets me. He is not surprised by my weariness, nor put off by my heaviness. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from our Thursday study on Dane Ortlund’s book Gentle and Lowly, it’s that Jesus moves toward His people when they’re at their lowest, not when they’re at their best. My low moments don’t disqualify me from His grace—they invite it.
So I write this, not with answers, but with hope. Hope that God will steady my mind, lift my spirit, and help me show up well for Mary and for those I’m called to serve. And hope that even in the dips, He is doing a deeper work in my heart.
If you, too, are walking through a valley today, may you know that you’re not alone. The Savior who is gentle and lowly walks beside you—right where you are, just as you are.