Yesterday, I told a friend at church that I don't really struggle w/ moodiness. Then today I was truly in a funk and only slightly able to appreciate the irony of it. Visiting in-laws and a late night doubtless contributed, but still, I simply inexplicably couldn't seem to shake the cloud I was under, like an erstwhile (not being exactly certain what that word means and not bothering to look it up but liking the sound of it) cartoon character.
So I yelled at my kids quite a bit and treated my husband like a psychiatrist. I'm so grateful he listens to me and nods and grunts at appropriate times. Sometimes he also gives great feedback. The sweetest is when it comes a while after the fact and I know he's been thinking about what I said and how to respond to it. I cried a little too, self-pity, exhaustion, or something.
When it feels like life is hopeless and you're beating your head against the wall and disappearing into a funnel cloud (sometimes mixed metaphors just are), you can hold on tight until it's over, pray for a way out, just quit and find something useful to do? I really don't know. I'm from a family history of highs and lows, borderline or full-on mental imbalances. Equilibrium isn't easy for anyone to maintain but is harder for some than others.
I do know that pain can be powerful in producing fruit, bitter or sweet. Aren't we all familiar with the phrase, "Use the pain"? But doing so, letting it make something beautiful out of you, is divine work.
And I long after the Divine, the Lover of my soul, to do something with it and with all that comes to it, to finish the work He's begun, that even this might be to His glory.