So admittedly I have been in a rut. No, I didn’t tell a lot of people that I was in an emotional funk, ok, so I really didn’t tell anybody. Why? I don’t know. Just ever since last spring I have felt like I have been under a fog. Not a depression really, just a fog. Yes, life was stressful and busy. When isn’t it? 🙂 But this was different somehow. I couldn’t shake it, I couldn’t get motivated.

Then I met someone who gave me a proverbial kick in the pants when it came to my faith. I started really reading my Bible. When I had a question I would turn to the index. My Bible become my ultimate reference guide for life. Got question? Look in the index!  Now I don’t want to come across as this self righteous being. No, I am not the greatest thing ever because I renewed my faith, and I am not preaching at you to go and find yours. This is simply my own account, do with it what you will.

I have always had a tremendous faith. It has gotten me through so much. I have been able to let things go. To take what was too big for my shoulders and lift it onto someones shoulders who could handle the burden. This weekend though, my faith was tested. I don’t know if I reclaimed what I had given up or if this was a whole new bowling ball of stuff. All I know was I was struggling.

I wanted to pray, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t the right time, it wasn’t the right place, there was too much noise. You get the idea. Finally Sunday night I went into our office, and I closed the door. The household noise was still there. I turned the light off. I walked over to my office chair. The only illumination in the room was the streetlight outside coming in through the window, silhouetting my cat. I went to sit down in the chair only to find myself sitting on the floor. I didn’t fall. I was just guided I guess. I put my head on my folded forearms and rested them in the seat of the chair. (So much for the traditional prayer pose.) I closed my eyes and I began to pray. I prayed and I prayed hard. I have only rarely prayed like this.

I prayed so hard I began to cry. Not the tears of “Oh what a sad movie”, but real tears. Sobbing tears that just flowed. I had such a pain from my soul and I cried more. I finally reached for a tissue, and continued praying and crying. I took a deep breath and tried to say Amen. There was no Amen in sight. I just kept crying and praying. Twice I tried to stop and twice I failed. Finally I was able to wipe all facial areas that felt moist, and to stand up. I put my glasses back on and I turned on the light. I walked out into the hall and I looked into the mirror. Hmmm not to shabby. I didn’t totally look like I had just let out an ocean of tears. I walked around the house a bit before going into the living room.

I felt a bit shaky and numb, but the more I moved a bit I was getting better. The next morning I woke up, and it took me a few hours before motivation set in and functioning was possible. When it did, I was alright, more than alright, I was ok. As the day wore on I found it was easier to be motivated. I guess I had given it all back to God again and now I was allowed to really be able to function. I didn’t expect this. All I had wanted was to pray. To pray for my friends who were ill, and needed God’s grace. To find that my fog had lifted was such a blessing. Now if only God really heard me and can answer my prayer, that really would be a blessing.

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