As with all my blog posts, they begin with a need – either mine or that of someone I know and love. The concept of living in limbo is no different.

I was recently talking to a long-time friend. She knows me well. We attended the same church eons ago when she was married to her first husband and I was married to mine. Although our circumstances have changed drastically in the past two decades, our friendship has remained the one constant.

I was sharing with her (to be honest, I was complaining to her) about how I was still in limbo. Every time I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel, a big dark cloud rolls in, obscuring my view of possibilities and hope, and once again leaving me in the midst of Limboland.

I’m tired of it. It’s exhausting.

My friend said to me, “Well, you should be used to it by now.”

Thanks a lot, dear friend. That’s the best you’ve got?

Even though her words ignited a spark of indignation, it was exactly what I needed to hear. I’m way past, “Oh, this is just temporary. It will get better, you’ll see.” Or, “Look on the bright side.” If one more person tells me to look on the bright side, I just may impale them with a flashlight!

No, I don’t need empty promises or platitudes of better times ahead. I need honesty. Raw honesty. And that’s exactly what my friend gave me.

So, what do I do in the midst of Limboland? Like Disneyland, it seems to stretch on forever, but not nearly as much fun. In fact, in many ways, my life more closely resembles the Haunted Mansion than Cinderella’s Castle.

Limbo, the way I’m using it here, is that part of life when you’re surviving from one day to another, one paycheck to the next, but you seem to be getting nowhere. Where are you going? What’s the purpose? Is it ever going to end? And if so, will it be a welcome relief or an, “Oh, crap, it CAN get worse!” moment.

My friend Jodi is in Limboland. She’s a beautiful thirty-something, independent woman who is doing a great job raising her daughter on her own. She has a good job, a family who loves her dearly, and from the outside looking in she has nothing to complain about. But she’s lonely. Jodi wants that special someone to share the rest of her life with and right now, in limbo, that unrequited desire overshadows the other positives in her life.

My friend Brian has cancer. A remarkable new treatment brought him back from death’s door, but the last remains of cancer refuse to go away. So, he’s considered stable. Not recovered, not in remission, but stable. Which is amazing in and of itself. His doctor, an unbeliever, told him he was touched by the hand of God. If that’s true, which Brian truly does believe, then why doesn’t God completely heal him? If this drug is so miraculous in conquering the large mass of cancer that was killing him, why can’t it do anything with this last remnant? Brian is living in Limboland. No longer making plans to die, but unsure how to live.

Heather, a girl I grew up with and reconnected with on Facebook about twelve years ago, recently endured a blow that set her world spinning. And that’s putting it mildly. I don’t know the details of her early adult life, just a quick rundown of the facts. But basically, she married, had children, one of whom died as a baby, and divorced. Somewhere along the way, Heather met Mr. Right. They were perfect together. They married and worked alongside each other in a family business, and their perfect present overshadowed their painful past. Reaching retirement age, they bought the perfect piece of waterfront property to peacefully spend the rest of their lives. Months later, paradise was shattered with the news that Heather’s husband had stage 4 cancer. He died within the year.

Heather’s world was shattered. All her hopes and dreams, gone. How does one pick up the pieces and live after mercilessly being thrown into limbo?

I admire Heather more than I can say. She believes she was left behind for a purpose. She says she has a job to do that she has to do alone, and once she’s finished, she will join her beloved in Heaven.

That job, that purpose, is what keeps Heather getting up each morning, even though each night is spent in tears.

In the midst of life’s dichotomies, one person’s vulnerability is actually another person’s boost. Weird, but true.

As I’ve mentioned numerous times in previous posts, I work part-time in retail. Every day is a struggle to be nice to not-nice people. While some are rude and others just plain stupid, some are outright mean. All of my managers are super nice to everyone and I wonder how they do it. I struggle to be nice to not-nice people.

Our company has a no-confrontation policy which basically means we let people get away with anything short of murder. And even then I doubt we’d be allowed to do anything. Customers can degrade and insult us all they want, but we are not allowed to tell them they are out of line. I understand the legal ramifications our company would face if we all told mean customers where they could go, so I get it. But still, it’s hard.

One day, one of the managers I admire most came up to me and said, “Miss Diane, I just cannot love these people anymore.” I gave her a sideways hug and for a moment we leaned our heads together in camaraderie and sighed in unison. Then we quickly pulled apart and she said, “Thank you. I needed that!” and off she went on her merry way.

That moment of vulnerability was pivotal. I felt understood and validated, even though she was the one looking for comfort.

My empathy gave my manager the understanding, validation, and comfort she was looking for. But in giving it to her, I inadvertently received it myself. In healthy relationships, when we meet the needs of others, our needs are met as well. (It’s important to note here that this is only true in healthy relationships. In unhealthy ones, the opposite occurs – one does all the giving while the other does all the taking and this scenario will never benefit either party.)

If given the choice, would I be willing to go through difficult times so I could be a help to others in similar circumstances? Absolutely not. I’m not that selfless. But I’m not given the choice. God gives me today and says, “Deal with it.” I deal with it by sharing with others.

Just as I’m doing right now. I write in an attempt to make sense out of a crazy world. Do I have all the answers? Nope. Never have, never will. But, do you feel a little better after reading this? Do you realize you’re not the only one going through difficult times? Well, good. I do, too.

As someone who has lived through her share of good times and bad and everything in between, the conclusion I’ve come to is this: It all boils down to relationship.

Relationship with self, God, and significant others is the heartbeat of our existence. Without it, we walk like the living dead, going through the motions but never truly experiencing life.

Circumstances come and go. So does money and accolades for a job well done. We reach one goal only to find ourselves in need of another. So, what does last? Respecting and honoring ourselves enough to set healthy boundaries that promote our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health; trusting in an all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful, all-loving God; and sharing the daily ups and down with those who truly care.

While few of us would knowingly choose to go through Limboland, once we’re there, there’s no option but to just get through it. No shortcuts. No numbing our feelings through indulging in addictive substances and behaviors which only make things worse. It’s not easy, but it is simple. Take one day at a time. Even one minute at a time, if that’s all we can handle, knowing that surviving and possibly even thriving through Limbo is possible – as long as we don’t walk through it alone.

It’s never too late. You’re not too young. You’re not too old. You can have purpose not only in your life but also in this day. There is always something you can do right now to improve yourself, to make an impact on someone or something else, or to create or enjoy a meaningful moment. – Tim Tebow