Although the fig won't blossom

I am in the stage of life called transition.  Hormones that use to reign and dominate are fading away.  Sleep alludes me and pain comes without invitation.  My mind weighs heavy on the things of the past and the uncertainty of the future.  Transition is a funeral of sorts.  You say goodbye to what you will never be again and tremble at what you are becoming.  It is joyful and tearful at the same time.  I go from ecstatic to weeping within the same turn of the second hand.  Being a dark person, I like this time.  The stalls are empty, the figs won't blossom but I hope in God.  I know he is up to something truly wonderful in my life even though this has been one big battlefield.

Habakkuk 3:17-19
¹⁷ Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls:
¹⁸ Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.
¹⁹ The Lord God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds' feet, and he will make me to walk upon mine high places. To the chief singer on my stringed instruments.