Yesterday I found an ache. It started at the back of my mind but eventually wiggled down behind my breastbone and nested there.
At first I tried to ignore it, but by evening the ache had become a pain. My hands were shaking. I took my car keys. Brought, uh…camera, poetry, running shoes…needed to go somewhere. No. But needed something.
Tried all usual antidotes. Sugared up, caffeined up, spent money, played music w/beat/bass LOUD, drove real fast till I ran out of gas and then coasted home without filling up, just to show them. That’ll be a problem on Monday.
If the pain is gone.
Thought, “caffeine must be a sin if it replaces God when things go wrong.” Held hands steady enough to paint nails. Poorly.
Still there. Gnawing. Clawing now, gutting.
I cleaned. I drank water. I moisturized. I even threw things away. (Tossing stuff was what got me through the few touch-and-go days after QoA, when the ache was behind my eyes and I wanted to cry a lot.)
Finally grabbed my Bible. Started in Psalm 27 and gave up before 34. It’s not there.
I vegged. I surfed. I spent an absurd amount of time on YouTube. Blamed insomnia. Put rings on wrong fingers and had to employ teeth for removal. Anything distracting.
Found The Hungering Dark, instead of screaming. Didn’t know what I was doing reading a book on doubt when doubt was far from the problem.
Belief is the problem. Desire is the ache. Hungering was the word that attracted me.
I’d like to tell you how this story ends, but it’s still there. The gnawing. Though it’s been dulled by years of distractions, warn away by meaningless mantras, drowned out by noise… it’s still there.
Thou hast said, “Seek ye my face.”
My heart says to thee,
“Thy face, Lord, do I seek.”
Hide not thy face from me.