Grasp

Today is one of those days when the depression is very present. I don't have anything to be depressed about, but it is here nonetheless, joining forces with the herxheimer exhaustion, fogging my too-tired imagination.

I feel like I'm reaching today, grasping at energy, at ideas, at focus, hoping to stumble across something tangible. I left a comment this morning for someone who miscarried; I reminded her that God was reaching for her, longing to hold her close, to let her know He is aching with her.

Why do I feel that I can't accept His embrace today, sitting here in my normally aching body and too-often depressed mood? I feel I don't deserve His understanding. I am used to it, after all. I go back to my work, editing a few more photos from my October wedding.

I played the piano today, and then I didn't play. I always forget how much life there is, how much ache, how much beauty in music. He gave it to me; I forget how it always touches Him.

I reach for His hand with my heart and hope in what I know of His love, the "you're not perfect, but I AM always here" love of His.