Power

Preoccupied is probably a good word for it. Maybe lazy, maybe boring, maybe busy? Whatever you name it, it is the same thing. It’s an empty blog. Sorry things have been so quiet this week. I just didn’t really feel like I had much to say. But today I kind of do.

I had ONE difficult day this week in regards to all the non-pregnancy stuff and I’ve been thinking a bit lately about my purpose here on Earth and how I’m not sure I have one. Like maybe I’m not meant for something really. Which I wholly believe isn’t true, but sometimes you have those days, you know? Where you don’t feel you’re getting to use your talents or your interests except for a few hours a week? And surely God wouldn’t have given me this heart and this mind if all I was supposed to do was doodle on a note pad while I’m answering phones at a desk job or just visit other people’s kids now and again but not have any of my own. Surely I wasn’t meant to be where I am. But this sounds like whining to me, so let’s move on.

Even though I had those heavy thoughts lately, they didn’t pull me under like bad days sometimes do. They didn’t grab hold and seep their sticky sadness into the rest of me. And that got me thinking about the fact that I have really been in a great place lately. It’s been a long time since I’ve been dragged down by depression. Like… longer than I ever remember going before between bouts of sadness. Like… over a year maybe. And friends, I cannot tell you how excited I’ve been by this realization. Progress maybe? Hormonal changes maybe? Diet and exercise lately has helped, I’m sure. Maybe I’m just growing up.

Sure I have bad days now and again like I did this week, but they don’t seem endless. And they don’t seem so absolutely insurmountable. And they don’t seem all encompassing. They feel like something I can handle. The amount of thankfulness I feel about that can’t really be described to you. I can tell you that I’m tearing up as I’m writing this because I’m so overwhelmingly full of thankfulness. I can tell you that I want to hug the neck of Christ and jump up and down with Him saying, “thank you, thank you, thank you!” over and over like I’m 8 years old and He’s just given me a new pink bicycle with sparkles on the handlebars and a little basket in the front for keeping dolls and treasures. I can tell you a lot of things about the way it makes me feel, but I won’t do it justice.

When I was putting together this blog post, I was looking back through some older blog posts about my history of depression and I saw this post about a sense of peace and contentment I had exactly this time last year. And then when I read the last paragraph of that post in October 2009 I wanted to tell the world that prayer is a mighty warrior when you don’t feel like standing up to fight for yourself.

So I guess that’s what I came here to say today. I had a bad day. I’m doing fine. Prayer works.

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