FUNK . . .

Why am I in a funk?

Because my normally vivid, exciting and colourful dreams are compressed and grey and shadowed. Because everything around me is dark, even when all the lights are on.
Because every person I look at and talk to is a reminder to me of how badly I fail them and let them down.
Because the days are passing and my life is not what I thought it would be at this point.
Because I don't have all that much hope that things will change.
Because I can't sleep a decent night's sleep.
Because my joints ache, and the headaches are worse, and my boob pain is back, sharper than before.
Because I still seek pain because at least then I'm feeling something.
Because I can't be everything to everyone at every moment.
Because I am not who I used to be ... and I like who I used to be.
Because he just can't decide.
Because I am misunderstood, and I don't know how to make myself clearer.
Because I speak harshly, even though my heart moves softly, and I end up hurting people's feelings.
Because I am no longer interested in food, or grocery shopping, or cooking, or baking, or feeding people with love.
Because Christmas music fills me with rage.

It's just a phase, I know. A season. Here's to wishing the season passes quickly.

***

THANK YOU . . .

The shadows don't prevent me from seeing reality. And the reality is this: you all are generous and loving. Sometimes so generous and so loving and so selfless that you take my breath away, make my heart actually skip a beat (it's a weird feeling), and make me have to sit down to stop the dizziness.

It's not a platitude or trite nicety when I say that I am taking you with me, that your generosity and love sustains me, that it is a manifestation of Christ in the flesh.

Nor do I say it lightly, in passing, without deep thought, when I tell you: God bless you and keep you and reward you for your faithfulness.