“The Mirky Feeling”

Posted by on Jan 11, 2009 in A Language, A Plan, A Story, Blog, God Cards | 0 comments

I am feeling mirky today. I find it difficult to see the big picture, trapped in the mindless endeavors of dirty dishes and constant clutter, the objections to my great ideas by the little people in our house and the quiet of mind without full-time work responsibilities beyond this home. Why can’t I have one day without a load of laundry? How about a grateful, eager response when I ask to bring your dishes to the counter? And where is my important meeting to clinch the next deal?


And so the cloudiness ensues. But not too far behind is the lightning strikes of condemnation. “How could YOU be so ungrateful? It is probably just another day of not exercising that is getting you in this funk or the lack of a good quiet time? How late did you sleep in again? Just because he is out of town on business, that doesn’t mean you go soft on it all? Where is your strength and discipline? Why can’t you sustain a great mothering picture eager to embrace your role in this family? Your days are fleeting, you know.” Sigh. I am full on in the storm now.

Ada handed me the book Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis yesterday. She was getting a game from the closet and noticed this book in the book shelf above the games. She pulled it from the shelf and put it in my hands. No kidding. This really happened. I take notice of these things. Random moments that could be straight from Father God. He is always looking to send us words; we just have to be listening and asking. And I am always asking, for I believe him. Even in the midst of clouds and lightening, I believe in the reality of Father God, his story of pursuit and love and his intentions to invite me to a grand table. He tells me this in his word, and I am not willing to chunk the Bible out the window.

Psalm 22:24-26 (The Message)

Here’s the story I’ll tell my friends when they come to worship, and punctuate it with Hallelujahs: Shout Hallelujah, you God-worshipers; give glory, you sons of Jacob; adore him, you daughters of Israel. He has never let you down, never looked the other way when you were being kicked around. He has never wandered off to do his own thing; he has been right there, listening. Here in this great gathering for worship I have discovered this praise-life. And I’ll do what I promised right here in front of the God-worshipers. Down-and-outers sit at GOD’s table and eat their fill. Everyone on the hunt for God is here, praising him. “Live it up, from head to toe. Don’t ever quit!”

Though my feelings are mirky, I am still watching, still asking, still waiting for his answer. So, I take the random book from Ada’s hand and ask: “Father, what do you have to say?” I have carried this book around since last night knowing that my good friend, C.S. Lewis, would have some answers for my storm. I stop now to find out what he may say to me . . . and to you.

“Now Faith, in the sense in which I am here using the word is the art of holding on to things your reason has once accepted, in spite of your changing moods. For moods will change, whatever view your reason takes. I know that by experience. Now that I am a Christian I do have moods in which the whole thing looks very improbable: but when I was an atheist I had moods in which Christianity looked terribly probable. This rebellion of your moods against your real self is going to come anyway. . . . Consequently one must train the habit of Faith. The first step is to recognize the fact that your moods change. The next is to make sure that, if you have once accepted Christianity, then some of its main doctrines shall be deliberately held before your mind for some time every day. . . . We have to be continually reminded of what we believe.” – “Faith” in Mere Christianity

So, tonight, I am going back through the God cards reminding myself who he is and who I am in him.

“But the great thing to remember is that, though our feelings come and go, His love for us does not. It is not wearied by our sins, or our indifference: and, therefore, it is quite relentless in its determination that we shall be cured of those sins, at whatever cost to us, at whatever cost to Him.” – “Charity” in Mere Christianity

“Feeling mirky” is a reality.

Questioning the barrage of laundry or my role as a mother does not surprise Father God.

He is there, and he is listening.

My honesty opens the door for a great conversation with him.

I am seeking, watching and listening, because he will respond.

And in the midst of the questions and the conversation, I move towards him, his word and his people.

There is rest in the seeking.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *