It’s Wednesday morning. The restless feeling has crept it’s way back into the quiet reservation of my heart. It comes and goes, but lately it has lingered. Some may call this depression. I don’t. I cannot deny the aching restlessness that prompts me to look further, the one that gently speaks to me, whispering made for more.
No, I am not unable, inactive or dejected.
I am unsettled.
Winter and darkness have that power.
The present divided loyalties will soon be undivided.
This Lenten season has reminded me of that. What has divided my anxious heart? A desire to be filled by an empty cup, I suppose. But isn’t this the process of Lent? To unsettle the heart of man?
It’s a frightening dare to look further into one’s heart.
I find it a bit scary down there.
But completely worth it.