Being Thirsty in the Middle of the Night

Okay, I'm back. So it's been almost three weeks since I last posted. The pslog goes on, just haven't take time to reflect and record.

It's an ungodly hour of the morning. Well, it's not ungodly. It's actually quite peaceful. I just wish I was asleep like the rest of my family. God knows I'm tired and need the rest. It's just not happening right now. After lying awake, tossing around for the better part of an hour, I decided to get up and do something constructive. So here I am.

There's been plenty to pslog about lately - family vacation, back-to-school preparations, friends visiting from a long ways away. Sure, things have seemed busy. Not exceedingly more so than usual, though. I just haven't taken time to post anything.

And for that, I've felt guilty. Now why in the hell should I feel guilty for not posting? That's plain silliness. No one is expecting me to do this. I started "The Pslog" freely and without coersion. No one's losing money because I haven't posted. No one's health is being adversly affected. Doubt that anyone besides me is even losing sleep over it.

The bar of expectation is completely self-defined. But I still feel guilty. I go through the mental exercise of beating myself up for not being as disciplined as I want to be...or as I was taught that I should be. Then I question whether I have anything worth saying. Does it really matter if I post or not? I've read enough blogs to know that the standard for having something meaningful to say isn't very high at all. The sea of insignificance just sucks me right in.

Okay, I'll admit it. My self-confidence is fragile. Maintaining a healthy self-confidence is where I spend most of my time slogging. Have for years. Haven't admitted it to many folks along the way. That would make me vulnerable and expose my insecurities. Heaven forbid that anyone else knows about my frailty. That might only validate my questions of significance.

It's depressing. No, it's depression. Keeps me awake at night. Makes it hard to do simple, ordinary things. Lose my temper, but only with the people I love the most. Oh, I can put on the happy facade with the best of 'em. But it only masks the sadness that simmers inside.

I can really resonate with Psalm 42.

A deer longs for streams of water.
God, I long for you in the same way.
I am thirsty for God. I am thirsty for the living God.

My spirit is very sad deep down inside me.
You have sent wave upon wave of trouble over me.
It roars down on me like a waterfall.
All of your waves and breakers have rolled over me.

I say to God my Rock,
"Why must I go around in sorrow?
Why am I beaten down?"

My spirit, why are you so sad?
Why are you so upset deep down inside me?

Why I am so damn sad all the time? It doesn't make sense. I have a beautiful wife and three terrific kids. I live in a nice house in a great neighborhood. I come from a loving family, and I have good friends. I really lack for nothing. But the sorrow doesn't cease. It takes all the effort I can muster sometimes to navigate the forest of shame and grandiosity. Yet it seems like I don't make any progress at all. It gets old fast. It pisses me off, and it makes me tired.

I'm thirsty. I need something to quench my parched spirit. I've been so thirsty that I took a drop of the first that seemed to relieve my thirst, but it only left me thirsting for more.

God, I'm thirsty for you, for living water. I don't want to drink something only to be thirsty again. I want you to quench my thirst so that I don't have to keep going back to the well. That's what Jesus did for the Samaritan woman. I'm tired, and I need a drink so that I can rest in you.