Good morning

I woke up in middle of the night with that dislocated feeling, when you suddenly feel like you don’t know who you are, or if God is, or what consciousness or reality is. That odd feeling, when a strange type of absurdity and ugliness seems to press in on you, unravelling the edges of not only your world but yourself.


I stared at the cieling and told Jesus, please let me feel you with me right now. Holy Spirit, I need you, you are my water and my air. I can’t deal with this right now, without you. The next thing I knew I was waking up, and it was morning, the sun shining through the window, and a feeling of fullness in my heart.

I got up, and felt quite wonderful, for five minutes, before all the stresses and worries of the day crowded in.

Right now in my life, God isn’t being heavenly morphine, a religious ecstasy or some overpowering subwoofer music that overwhelms out all else. No, I still feel other things–ugly, sad, or bitter. But on occasion, He reminds me, He’s here too, like a brief touch on the shoulder.

He is good.


One thought on “Good morning

  1. I love the point you make in the “God isn’t being heavenly morphine…” paragraph. That’s very much how it’s been with me, too. And I’m finding that dwelling daily in His Word — even if it’s only one psalm or section of a chapter — makes a big difference in pushing back that sense of unraveling you describe. I don’t always feel like I’m gaining anything at the time, but He is teaching me to receive Scripture as true food that nourishes over time, and it is sweet!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s