God is in My Funk

I traveled to India this past summer to visit a friend working with the Salesian community in Tumkur, a small village in the southern part of the country. Whenever there was a lull in conversation or there was a decision to be made I would frequently hear the phrase, "what to do?" Accompanied with a shrug of the shoulders. Not what do you "want" to do . . . or what "should" we do . . . no, it lacked these specifics, instead we were left with "what to do" as if there was only one answer--the thing that was meant to be next. The problem was we rarely knew what that was.

Friday I came home pumped to go out, to do something, filled with energy I was ready to dance the night away. Unfortunately I had no where to go, no one to go with me, and no way of releasing the built up energy. I recently learned how to bleed a radiator, I wish I had a key to bleed the pent up energy inside of my body! What to do?

I can't explain why Friday night has stuck with me, but today I found myself in a funk--a bad/sad mood brought on by something I don't totally understand. Yes, a funk. The word itself sounds like I feel--funk. Maybe it's a sense of loneliness. Even though I have very caring and loving people surrounding me in life these days, there is still occasionally a sense of not getting everything I need--or maybe in all honesty it's a "want." But either way, there is something that I felt the absence of Friday night that has been the root of this funk.

I just wanted to dance. Instead of wallowing in my own self pity I shut my door, I turned my music up, and danced around my room singing into my hairspray makeshift microphone. Yeah, it wasn't what I wanted to do, but it released some of my energy and gave me a small sense of relief. Maybe the phrase "what to do" teaches me something deeper, I didn't get what I "wanted" I don't know if it was a "should" but I do know it was what had to be done.

No, the funk is not over. I have hopes for tomorrow, as Scarlet O'Hara proclaims, it is another day! But even in whatever this icky feeling is in the pit of stomach that caused the tears that I earlier shed, God is speaking to me--or maybe that's my way of giving purpose to it--either way (of God or of self) bringing meaning to my life, even these more difficult moments, helps me to get through. My prayer tonight is that God is in my funk.