When My Love for Man Grows Weak

A friend of mine recently wrote about being in a funk.
I think we all get there from time to time.  Our funks may be different in cause and content, but we all have those moments when we are just discontent, troubled, weary or even 'done.'

Her writings about her funk forced me to stop and do some hard thinking.
And admitting.
I, too, have been in a funk.
She was questioned on whether or not she was having a crisis of faith-which she was not.
Neither am I.
This is not a crisis of faith or a questioning of God or a struggle in the darkness of trial.
It is simply, for lack of a better way of putting it, a mind funk.

And when I have these seasons of, let's call it 'funkiness', I tend to get quiet.
Because, quite frankly, I don't know what to say.

That.
That right there.
That frustrates me to no end.
I am a problem solver.  I want to assess and then fix.  I want to fix my funk.  I want the answers so I can enact solutions and solve the problems.
I want out of my funk.

But - sometimes there are no answers.   At least, not the kind I've been searching for, anyway.
My funk does not stem from trial or a wavering trust in the Father and His plan and purpose.
My funk stems from people.
They annoy me.
Especially when I expect them to know, and act, better.

It is not news that a deep part of me wants to change the world.
It is not a new thing to hear me say that I am weary of the status quo.
It is not surprising when I come up with another way of challenging the system and myself out of 'doing things the way they've always been done by everyone else.'
I like to swim upstream.  I like to be different.  I am not a bandwagon type of gal.
And I get beyond weary of doing the same thing over and over expecting different results.
(Insanity, anyone?)

I also get weary of talking things to death.
I want to be a woman of action.  I want to try it and see and if it fails, then I learned something for next time.
But, at least, I did something.
I didn't sit around thinking it to death and ultimately deciding it wouldn't work anyway so I gave up.
No - I want to be known at the woman who went out there and gave it her best shot.
And I am sick.to.death. of procedures and committees and meetings and bureaucracy.

Before you 'amen' me...be sure to ask the begging question:
"So, what do you do, then?"

*crickets*
That's where you stump me.
I don't have the answers.
That is where I struggle.
And pray.
And beg God to send me where He needs me to be used.
Because where I am right now is not it.
I don't need to be exalted.
But I want to be needed.
I want to be needed and valued as part of the believing family of God changing the world.

I cannot let the funk win.  Because it sees victory as my relenting to the status quo.
And I cannot let that happen.
But what I, and we, are doing  - Is.Not.Working.

Something has to give.
Ever been there?  Feeling that sense of pushing from the Spirit urging you forward?
Something has to change.

My prayer becomes, once again,
"Lord, change ME."