I’ll revisit this, I’m sure… it’s all wrapped up in Sunday’s gospel which was the story of Lazarus, from John’s gospel. It has something to do with being called back from the dead to the light of day. It has something to do with depression – that’s the real word for it, but to me it’s blackness. Not blue, BLACK.

Blue I can deal with. Blue is OK – not fun, but a challenge to discover the source of the emotion. To discover what Blue is telling me. To make changes.

Black is downright scary… I’m doing much better at listening to Black. But, Black scares me. Black makes me feel not only scared, but helpless, listless, without energy. Dead.

Which brings me ’round to the gospel. Jesus called Lazarus from the tomb to come out to the light of day – back to life. Just as I have come back to life.

Now, that was a few years ago, but I know I don’t ever want to go back into that tomb. So, I try to keep up with Blue, so that it never turns navy and never approaches Black.

I don’t understand quite why this has reared it’s head again. Thought it was all in the past. But, it seems that as I move through life, and peel the layers off of the onion that is life, I find new layers, and sometimes, I cry. Each layer that is stripped away moves me closer to the core – closer to the me that is meant to be.