The other day, I woke up feeling blah. It had been raining for about a week. The first audible words to reach my sleepy, pre-dawn ears emerged from a child in the form of a complaint. Said Complainer proceeded to bicker with his sister in the car, all the way to school (in the rain). I was bummed that I missed my out-of-town Easter family celebration. I got a rejection letter from a magazine publisher, which caused me to eat peanut butter from the jar with a big spoon. And, for the love of all that is right and good, when will this extra weight leave my thighs? Can anyone tell me? And don’t EVEN say it has something to do with eating peanut butter from the jar with a big spoon, because this is NOT the right time for that. It’s just not.
Listen, I realize none of this is earth-shattering. I’ve had earth-shattering days—years, even. I know the difference. Looking over that list, I know none of this will matter in the light of eternity. Shoot, most of it won’t even matter next week.
On paper, I have no tangible reason to feel blah, really. I want for nothing. All of my needs and most of my wants have been lavished on me by a Loving God.
Yet, I sometimes find myself struggling for perspective, just the same. I find myself in need of God’s help. Help for what, exactly? I feel guitly even asking for God’s help on days like this. I mean, with all the tragedy and pain in the world, certainly God has bigger fish to fry. Like He’s looking down at me with hands-on-hips saying, “Puleeeez, Sandy. Get over yourself and put down the spoon, already. Can’t you see I’m busy helping all these other people who actually NEED me?”
Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young— a place near your altar, LORD Almighty, my King and my God. Psalm 84:2-4
But in the middle of my blah morning, sitting right there in my little kitchen, armed with a spoonful of peanut butter, God spoke. He reminded me that, certainly, He is the God of the broken-hearted, the sick, the hopeless, the one dying in his sin. But He is also the God of the little swallow, who simply finds a home for herself and her baby swallows near God’s altar…and lives there.
He’s not too busy taking care of all the major tragedies around the world to help me. God doesn’t triage His children, like a busy hospital emergency room. He doesn’t see the critical patients first and leave those with a cough or a cut to sit for hours watching CNN on a tiny television. I don’t need to earn my right (by way of devastating heart-break or life-threatening illness) to approach His Throne of Grace immediately—constantly.
The LORD is good. When trouble comes, he is a strong refuge. And he knows everyone who trusts in him. Nahum 1:7
Sometimes trouble comes in the form of devastating life storms. I’m not here to minimize that kind of trouble. My heart aches for those who are enduring that kind of trouble today. But sometimes, trouble comes more subtlety. Sometimes trouble comes in the form of a non-distinct feeling of blah—no-good-reason-blah.
If that’s you…if today you just feel blah, and you aren’t sure why, take heart. He knows everyone who trusts in Him. “Everyone” means you. You can call to Him for help with your blah. Because He’s the God of the Blah Day.