Never Satisfied

It's day 32. I decided to start keeping track of the days because I'm curious what happens on Day 40. Perhaps that's superstitious, but nevertheless, it will be interesting to see if it has any bearing. Also, with it being Saturday, I have the opportunity to see how well I function without a set routine. So far, not too bad. I have found that the mornings, once I get to work and settle in, are infinitely better than the evenings and afternoons. This morning I woke up with a little bit of energy to do the dishes and take the trash out. Yes, that is a big accomplishment for me. I rejoice in the little things. I was also able to go to the grocery store. I know, I should really slow down, right?

Even as I struggle with the emotional and spiritual aspects of this, I feel it’s important to mention the very physical side of it. If it were not for feeling an intensely physical pain, I don't know if I would have the drive to pursue this with such single-mindedness. It's not a touchable pain. It's deep inside the pit of my stomach. Not quite like nausea, but like a squeezing inside my upper abdomen. It moves into my chest, almost like a weight is resting on it, a tightness that makes me wonder if I'm having a heart attack or an anxiety attack without the heavy breathing. It creeps into my throat, and rests at the very back of my mouth. All this is combined with an overall fatigue. Oh, and on Tuesday, I broke out in a rash. The rash must be stress-induced, but at least it doesn't itch...too bad.

I keep thinking today, a day that I have not cried, that maybe the answer to all of this is not so mysterious and hidden as I've thought. That maybe it's not a secret room inside that has to be unlocked and swept out, but maybe it's more obvious, more tangible than that. And so, as I continue to rest, breathing deeply and saying “God, I'm giving that to You,” whenever an unpleasant thought flutters through my mind, I wonder if all this stems from putting things (people, ideas, material things, even ministry) between myself and God. And I begin to wrack my brain for a time in my life, a situation, a place where I've been completely satisfied. Or have I always been so anxious for the next thing-even a good thing, that I have become incapable of ever being satisfied? This is a hard saying. But I'm starting to examine every aspect of my life and question why it is that Jesus is not really enough for me. I have said that He is, but I have lived like He isn't. I don't like admitting this, but there it is.

Today, as I was riding in the car, I stuck my arm out the window, then my face. The wind was refreshing, if not rejuvenating, and I began to think about how in the book of Acts, the Holy Spirit came on the disciples in the upper room as a rushing mighty wind. I am anxiously waiting for my own Pentecost experience, where the Holy Spirit will fill me to overflowing, when I can stand with confidence and feel inside the peace of God and know in my heart that He is truly enough. That He truly satisfies. And that He is all I need.