I drove into work in a mood this morning. Kinda down, kinda in a funk.
Everything looked the same on the drive in. The same grey roads. The same
buildings. The cars blurred together like concrete in a mixer and even the birds looked dusty, old and tired.
And so I prayed.
The prayers felt like yesterdays toast, but I kept on telling God what I was feeling.
And now there is a band playing in the dining room the songs of the resident’s youth. I hear the tap, tap, tap of the drum and now a plaintive trumpet, and a voice sings, “tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight” . . .
. . . and I know that the world will go on. (Elvis songs have that ability sometimes.)
Sometimes we are up, and sometimes we are down – but nothing lasts forever.
And so, I fully enter into my season of depression with God and we explore it together knowing that since He is in this with me, good will come and joy will soon pull me up.
And if nothing else happens there is lunch in about an hour.