It’s been one of those days, weeks, and maybe even months.  Where everything seems futile and pointless.  All of the fun has leaked out and even laughing seems fake and hollow.  I don’t feel like seeing anyone except for those very few closest to me so that I don’t have to explain why I’m not in a typically good mood.  It’s simply exhausting to spend time with casual friends in order to keep up the facade of fun.  I don’t really want to be alone, but I also don’t feel like inflicting myself on anyone else.

I’m not exactly sure what started this upheaval.  Could be my job, or maybe because I’m homesick, or it could be that as I’ve read through my old journals, I’ve ripped off scabs from old wounds I was surprised to find hadn’t yet healed. Maybe all of the above.

This is getting old

Feeling unsettled

wanting to do anything else but what I’m doing now.

I can’t enjoy the present

as I’m wishing it all away

Hoping for a more self-contented now.

Where is God’s hand?

Looking back, I can’t see His fingerprints

for tears have washed them all away.

If I don’t feel a push in any direction,

do I rely on the restless feelings

I harbor inside?

I’m trapped in my own self-imposed universe,

a cold, dark planet, deprived of oxygen

void of peace, love, and joy

and thick with discontent.


About miccahmarie

I got my first Diary when I was 10. I couldn't wait to write in it at night to divulge all of the details of my day onto paper with my turquoise pen. I now find that writing has become therapeutic for me. I need time to think and sort out what is going on inside and often when I'm most emotionally heightened is when I write most creatively. My years of journaling are a compilation of written out prayers as well as lamenting poems. Now as a wife and mother, my perspectives have changed, as I reflect on who I was and who God is making me to be.
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1 Response to discontent

  1. Josh Couts says:

    I get the same way every year around this time, but it’s hitting particularly hard this year.

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