Funks happen. Days we feel off, and no chocolate or Netflix binge can turn things around. The reason behind our funks could be as simple as not getting enough sleep, absorbing enough sunlight, or eating enough veggies. But oftentimes the root lies much deeper, where psychological, emotional, or relational issues are to blame.
And there’s nothing new under the “funk” sun; people have been getting into funks since forever. Jonah got super down when God didn’t destroy Nineveh. Jeremiah wished he was never born. David couldn’t even be pulled up off the ground at one point. And Jesus, He was a “man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3 KJV).
I once experienced a two-year period of funkdom (as my dad would call it). I was living on the other side of the country, far away from cultural familiarity, lifelong friends, and my large family. The decision to move was for our good, to give our kids a “country experience” and to perhaps set ourselves up financially so we could retire with ease one day. But the initial excitement soon turned sour, and whether I was grieving my old life or couldn’t handle the humidity (not sure the exact reason for my funk), I wasn’t having any of it.
After repeated episodes of sobbing on the floor of my closet, cat in one hand and phone calling mom in the other, I came to the conclusion: who is there but God to turn to, who besides Him has the desire, patience, and ability to comfort me? So I redirected my tears and replaced (most) of my closet shenanigans with a daily quiet time—more like cry time—where I made a fool out of myself before God, desperately clinging to Him and His every Word. This was something I scheduled every morning out of necessity—same time, same place, same funk.
And you know what came out my quiet times with the Creator of the universe? A love for my new town? No. An instantaneous move back “home”? Not for two years. A less sassy attitude about my circumstances? I wish. Rather, God told me He loved me. Not just any ol’ declaration of love, but take the most romantic, heartfelt, time-stopping, nurturing, Charles Ingalls/Colin Firth “I love you” you’ve ever heard in a movie or read in a book—and multiply by 50 thousand. It was as though I felt God’s heart burst for me. And I discovered for the first time that His “unfailing love [really] is better than life” (Psalm 63:3).
Sweet friend, I sure hope you’re not in a funk today. But if something petty is bugging you or something too-complex-for-words is tormenting you, get alone with God and call to Him in your distress. And because of your funk, you’ll find yourself receptive to His I-love-yous in ways you’ve never been before. I promise (more importantly, He promises), when you draw near to Him, He will draw near to you (James 4:8).
For you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.
PSALMS 63:7-8 ESV