November is never a particularly good time for me. The sun comes up late and goes down early. The sun sits low, only weakly shining forth, even when not obscured by autumn clouds.
Therapy lights help me cope. The bedside lamp that kicks on for an artificial dawn. The lamp I sit in front of while I do my morning devotions… and while I eat breakfast… and while I eat lunch… and while I take my afternoon tea.
I try to cope. I relax my expectations, remind myself that this is November. I alternate periods of activity with periods of rest. I try to stay in the Word, keep truth bombarding me in song throughout the day.
But there are still days when the sun goes down and I cry for an hour over everything and nothing in particular.
There’s too much to do. My son threw away the other beater so I can’t make the cookies I measured ingredients for earlier. I cleaned but the house is still messy. I’m afraid the baby turned transverse. I split wood on the helping tower I’m making for Louis and don’t know how to fix it. I need to go shopping to get a new beater, but if I’m going to actually go inside a store with the kids I should get everything I need, but the thought of making a grocery list is daunting without adding the pressure of getting everything I need.
Finally, I ignore the mess going on in my head, distracting myself by cutting out some Nativity finger puppets (ostensibly to figure out what extra felt I need.)
I fall asleep, but when my false dawn begins and it’s really still night, the old worries rise again and I wonder if I’ll get through this day, this week, this month, this season.
The nights are so very long.
The night can indeed be long. But thankfully morning always comes. Praying for lots of light to enter your November.
You will. Moment by moment, step by step. Praying for you.