For a period of time.

For a period of time each month, I experience Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder. In lay people terms, that’s PMS depression.

Completely fetal!

It renders me anxious, unsettled, and wretchedly down (that’s about 28 miles beyond sad). My cortisol is high and my serotonin is low. I cry the ugly cry – you know that one – and I cry it loudly. My favorite position is a fetal one, preferably performed in my bed, under layers and layers of heavy covers. During this time, the clouds in the sky hover low and dark, and it feels like the world is crumbling, and nothing can repair it.

In other words, I am sad, sad, and some mo’ kinda sad.

Usually when this phase of month (or moon) happens, I wait it out and walk with it. I search myself, calculatedly examine what’s on my mind and why it’s bothering me so, and try to be kind to myself.

Yesterday, that strategy wasn’t working so well.

“So, Jesus, why you…? And, how come…? But, Lord…? And see, Jesus… Well, what about…? And you said… When…? Lord…!? Lord, where are you?!” And, oh, was I crying the ugly cry!  And I mean loudly! 

I moped through the day, certain that Elohim was ignoring my dismay – ‘cause I’m human like that – and feeling all “oh-woe-is-me” ish. Meanwhile, the clouds got lower and the world as I know it crumbled a little more.

Now, I know that when I get loud and stank with Elohim, He usually gets quiet. Really, who do you know that’ll respond to you when you get loud wit’ ‘em? Certainly not Jehovah Shalom, the Lord of peace. And I know that Elohim gets quiet so I that will and can then listen intently to that still small voice that tells me God’s got me and all is well. But, yesterday, there was no stopping my angst!

I finally unballed myself and left the house, though still sulking.  But while sitting at a stop sign, in the middle of dry and forgotten yard, in a space where I never would have glanced, Jehovah Shammah (the Lord is present) blew a gentle wind across my face to draw my attention to beautiful white flowers growing naturally, unobtrusively, and unexpectedly beside a low concrete wall just beneath the stop sign. I heard/saw then what I needed to know –

“Beloved, here I am!”

Unexpected white flowers!

Under that stop sign, right next to that slab of concrete, in dry land, after weeks of 100+ degree weather and no rain, there was enough life to grow something beautiful, and there they blew just for me and anybody else who passed. I believe they bloomed in these impossible circumstances to remind us that even in our impossible circumstances and situations, life grows on. And I believe God showed them to me so that I could know that no matter how sad or alone I may feel, God is present.

I love the way Elohim loves on me!

Sadiqqa © 2012

I am the Good Shepherd.

I am the Good Shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired had, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away -- and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. The hired hand runs away because the hired hand does not care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd…
-- John 10:11-14a

In my meditation this morning, Elohim grabbed me up by my nightshirt, shook me around like a rag doll, then set me back down to recover from my human dizziness.

Admittedly, that's often how He has to get my attention.

I've been lamenting lately over a few things. So many things and so much so that I've probably seemed distant to my family and friends. Some of what has been on my mind - stuff that I just can't seem to figure out rationally, stuff that seems to have no human answer, stuff that scares me - has weighed me down, and my response to it has been to retreat from it/pretend it doesn't exist/act as though I'm not really bothered by it/criticize, demean, or punch holes in it/be irritable and unapproachable.

My response has been like that of the hired hand.

Elohim reminded me this morning that I am kin to the Good Shepherd Jesus. God reminded me that He has given me "charge" over a few things and that I am to be like Jesus who laid down his life for His sheep. For me, laying down my life for the sheep He's entrusted me with means being available, patient, and accommodating to them, AND giving them unconditional, ungrudging, and enthusiastic regard.

Unconditional, ungrudging and enthusiastic regard? “You've got to be kidding,” I said to God. That's the part where He jacked me up and made me shamed for even forming such a thought.

See, what if because of my faults and limitations, Elohim decided I had no value, deserved no respect, and was easily disposable? What if my brokenness and confusion made God throw up His hands and leave me? What if my Father judged me the way I judge some things and some others?

What if God stopped caring for my heart just because He didn't feel regarded or connected? What if He didn't provide me with warmth and kindness because He didn't want to be taken advantage of? What if Elohim didn't have time for me, in the same way I don't have time for others because they get on my nerves, aren't like me, or I'm just too danged busy to be bothered?

What if the Provider stopped being on time with the way He supplies my needs, in the same way I make my GG wait for me to want to prepare dinner? What if the Comforter was short with me because He didn't get His way? What if the voice of God I hear in my heart was as bland as the voice I give to others? And, what if God was sullen like me and rained on parades because He had so much to figure out on His mind?

Thank you, Jesus, for not being like me. Thank you for being the Good Shepherd who lays down His life for me. Show me in all my humanness how to do the same for the sheep in my life.

Selah.