I am weary with my moaning;
every night I flood my bed with tears;
I drench my couch with my weeping.
My eye wastes away because of grief. (Ps 6:6-7).
I’m fidgety. It’s a sure sign that something’s up. I whine about how hard life is. I cry at the drop of a hat. I try to study. I fail. I try to sleep. I fail. I try to chat with friends. I end up staring off into space; I fail. I decide I don’t want to be with people; that doesn’t work either. I try to distract myself by cooking, or changing locations, or cleaning, or organising something. Nothing works.
I give in. I start thinking about how I’m a terrible friend. I think about the impending goodbyes. I think about faraway friends. I think about not faraway friends who I haven’t seen in too long. I think about my family. I think about that conversation that I need to have. I think about all that college work that needs to get done. I get to a place where I wish cloning was a valid option – that would surely solve my problems. Nothing gets resolved, I just send myself into a spiral of pensive melancholy.
This has happened enough times that I know I have to wait it out. I know that in time some things will be resolved while others will persist endlessly.
But I always need to be reminded that I wait with hope. With the certain knowledge that God is with me. He hears my lamenting. He hears my prayers. He is answering them. Maybe not in the way I want (i.e. immediate relief), but in a way that is for my good.
The LORD has heard my plea;
the LORD accepts my prayer (Ps 6:9).