Three Ways to Dig Yourself Out of a Funk

I roll out of bed and pad into the kitchen. I want to keep sleeping but time is limited before the party and things need done.  I drink my caffeine fix and begin carrying the stray items from the living room to the bedroom where it should be.  I clean off the dishes from my desk. The spoon with peanut butter on it, now smeared in a spot. The ice cream bowl with a puddle of melted ice cream. The glass of water still half empty.  I gather them in the kitchen sink and sigh when I realize the dishes in the dishwasher are still dirty.  I have to run that cycle and then wash the dishes in the sink. I glance over at the pile of sheets in front of the laundry room.  Three beds worth high, all making crinkled wrinkles, waiting to be folded.

I don’t want to wash dishes and I don’t want to fold sheets.  What’s the point anyway? I’m going to get them all dirty again and then have to do this all again. I’m tired of the cycle.

Scott walks in the kitchen and he’s dressed for a day in the yard.  It’s where I should head when the dishes and laundry are done.  “I just don’t feel like doing anything today.” He agrees, but he throws his cup in the sink and exits out the garage door to do it all anyway.

I look across the house and see all the things out of place. I think about the dirty bedrooms and the bills that need paid and the errands that need run.  I just can’t today.  What is the point? We do it all and for what? So we can keep doing the same thing over and over and over?

I sulk back to my bedroom, throw the covers back over myself and turn on The Lizzie Bennet Diaries on YouTube and decide I just can’t.  I watch a few more episodes, disappointed when Darcy still hasn’t made an appearance and decide I need to exercise.  It’s the last thing I feel like doing but endorphins and all.  I need some this morning and it’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?

I manage to get dressed and make it in to the living room.  I squat and burpee and think about all the reasons I shouldn’t be having a bad morning.  I have a wonderful, hard working husband, two beautiful girls, my dream job, two good cars, I work out every day, have good friends, have sex regularly, I can fit into a size 2 for goodness sakes.  Isn’t this what the magazines tell me should make me happy?

I high punch and then squat lower and low punch and I keep punching and punching and punching and as fast as my arms are pumping, my eyes start doling out tears.  What is the point? Why am I not happy?  Punch, punch, punch. I feel frustrated but feel guilty that I am.

I cry and tell God to help because I can’t today.

He tells me these feelings are good and I’m surprised.  He reminds me that it’s true, there is more.  There is a place where things don’t get dirty and people don’t feel sad and women don’t cry in the middle of their workout and they don’t even need to workout.  It’s a home in heaven and this tension, this emptiness I feel is a reminder that I’m only passing through here.  My heart yearns for more because there is more.

“In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. “If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also. John 14:2-3

But why? Why do I have to go through all the mundane?

I’m reminded of Jeremiah 29:11

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

He has plans and  a purpose.  It is all pointless without Him.  Nothing—not one thing—on this earth can make you happy.  I have enough of it all to tell you.  That job, those clothes, that house, that bank account, those kids—not one single change will make you happier.  Only in Christ and his purpose and hope can do it.  If he didn’t have plans for me, I wouldn’t be here.  And if I have eternal plans and the mundane is a part of it, I can do it.

I go sit at my desk, my workout, both of my body and tears over, and glance at my desk calendar.  Arianne Segerman’s words are a balm.

These chores, these tasks, these burdens carried—they never go unnoticed.  Each bead of sweat for God is counted and known… . I want to have my faith pull me into places and heart-positions I never expected.  I want to always be reaching. I want to be noticed by the One that holds it all in His hands. I want to build a life of memorials.

Tears threaten again, but they’re happy tears.  He sees.  He saw.  In just minutes, he has given me words to let me know I’m not alone in all this.  He’s holding it all together and working it out for good.

Do you ever have days like that? Where you feel depressed and hopeless and just tired of it all?  I do.  All the time, I do.  These three things can help.  Remember:

1. This world is not our home.  We aren’t satisfied with this world because we aren’t supposed to be.  Let it be a reminder of our eternal hope.
2. God has a purpose and plan for us while we’re here that yes, includes the mundane too.
3. God sees all our efforts, even when no one else does.  Those tears shed?  He’s counting them.

Maybe my Saturday is your Monday today.  Take heart.  It’s not just me and it’s not just you.  We’re in this together.