The Blessing of Angst

I've been feeling a bit down tonight.
Lonely. Not just lonely, but alone.
Misunderstood.
Tolerated.
Dysphoric.
Angsty.

And as I lay in bed, trying to fall asleep, I felt myself sinking deeper, not into sleep, but into that ugly dark pit of depression. The kind so black you can physically feel it in your chest.

And as I started turning my thoughts upward in prayer, it hit me:
I don't have to give in to this.
It actually may be an answer to my prayers.
I've been praying about my spiritual numbness, my apathy, my lack of appetite.
And I think this is one of those times when God is allowing me to taste dissatisfaction with my life
not so I can plunge into despair
But so that I'll taste how unsatisfying, how unfulfilling, the "all about me" life is
And develop that hunger once again to taste and see that HE is good.
That He truly does fulfill.
To run downstairs in the morning--or outside to the hammock--EAGER to spend time with Him.
Delighting to linger in His presence.

I needed to taste the sour, the bitter, the unpalatable of the "all about me" life--trying to gain satisfaction from human relationships and from people's approval and worldly success--so that I could remember what truly does satisfy me.

Thank You, Dad, for answering my prayers.
Maybe not in the way I wanted, but in the way I needed.
Thank You for turning my heart back toward You,
and for reaching down, grabbing me by both hands, and lifting me once again out of that pit.
I love You.
And I thank and praise You that You really do understand me.
You don't just tolerate me; You lavishly love me!
You are ALWAYS with me, no matter how tiresome or annoying or needy I'm being.
In Your presence is fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.