#4: Sadness And Scribbles

“I can’t wait to hike these mountains in a glorified body.”

I recall saying this thought out loud to my friends as we were trekking back from Andrew’s Bald. I had experienced beauty in my life, I had seen many gorgeous things. But that trail in the Great Smoky Mountains surprisingly had catapulted into the top spot. And it was because I experienced it in the context of immense and long-lasting physical pain. The beauty heightened the awareness of my suffering. And the suffering heightened the beauty of the mountains. 

Light shines brighter in the darkness.

I came back from that trip and the post-vacation blues lingered and turned into a deeper type of depression. I think it stemmed from the clarity of that thought I had. I was feeling the groans of this world, I was feeling homesick for Heaven. It brings me to tears even now as I recall the intensity of those moments. 

I had been journaling for a while at that point. I was working on dealing with a long season of physical suffering. I was trying to suffer well. As this new angle of emotion came into my mind, body, and soul, I wrote about it. 

Most of my real journal entries aren’t worth sharing or I’m just unwilling to share. But an entry from that time directly evolved into my first song, ‘Come To The Garden.’ In the months following the writing of it, I’d be sharing it and a handful of songs first with friends, then publicly. When I’ve talked about the emotions that spurred its writing, I’ve seen the shared looks of longing. I am not alone in my wrestling with waiting, in the battle with being bound to the temporal. I am not the only one often struck with sadness when encountering beauty. 

You are not the only one, either.

That entry in my journal is one of my stones of remembrance. It’s a stone I’m ready to share, because in the moment I felt isolated in the emotions of it, but it has led to so much more than I could have imagined at the time. And isn’t that a testament to how God works?

Even when we’re stuck focused on our light, momentary affliction, He is at work in ways we can’t even comprehend. 

But every once in a while, we get a real-time glimpse of the bigger picture. Sometimes we get to see how it’s unfolding. And that’s worth remembering and sharing.

The best is yet to come.

Madison Marlyn
8.14.2025