Funky Monday

I’ve been in a funk for awhile now. It mainly impacts my motivation to get the little things done…the laundry and the dishes and the making-dinner-kind-of-things.

The thing with a funk is that it is hard to pinpoint. I’m not completely depressed, or completely overwhelmed, or even just completely sad.

I think a funk has a touch of all those things. Plus tiredness. And mopiness (how on earth do you spell that?!)

Maybe, possibly, this is because I’ve heard of so many little ones lately who are struggling simply to survive. To live through the weeks of infancy.

There is Andrew who was waiting for heart. He received the heart transplant, but now struggles to get the kidneys back in line and the heart beating to the right rhythm. I can’t imagine the stress of his journey on his family.

There is Asher….he was born with his intestines forming on the outside of his body. He had one AMAZING surgery and seemed to be growing and doing well. But now, at just 5 months old, he has been diagnosed with leukemia.

Baby Pearl was mentioned in our prayers this morning at church….that God would be gracious however many days she has.

There are many more in the list of people who need our prayers, who are struggling through the days with mind-numbing illnesses and pains and fears and struggles.

The funk settles in.

I think, as well, my mom’s dementia impacts me more than I want to admit. There is that sense that if we begin to weep or mourn or allow the fullness of the situation to impact us that we won’t be able to stop. And we have to stop because there is laundry to do and dishes and making-dinner-kinds-of-things.
That is why my Dad amazes me…because he never gets a break from the situation, and for the most part he wouldn’t want one. There are times it is frustrating, and times he is glad to go to the office, but for the most part he wants to be with Mom because he loves her. Even though it is overwhelming sometimes and sometimes it just flat hurts.

I think I am beginning to understand that the funk settles in when the needs around us are overwhelming and we don’t allow ourselves the freedom to feel. To mourn. To weep even though it may be hard to stop. Because, I think, we are meant to feel the weight of our brokenness and to know that we need to help. We need to not run from it.

We need to declare that this is not right, this is not what we are meant for….this brokenness is….broken.

There is something deep in us that knows that there is something more whole, more beautiful, more full, more pure, more life-filling than anything we can imagine…and we long for it when we are faced with babies whose intestines are on the outside or whose hearts don’t work right. Or when we are faced with strong, amazing, beautiful, wise women who don’t know that the baby in their arms is their grand-daughter…the only daughter of their only daughter….

And it’s okay to feel funky on Monday. But maybe we need to let ourselves feel more than funky so we can move to feeling the impact of a God who saves us from the brokenness and who will make all things new.


12 thoughts on “Funky Monday

  1. noellenazemi says:

    I love your words. I love you. I can pray.


  2. fme2 says:

    I’ve been in lots of funks and I think you’re right…this sense of all is not right and I can’t fix it and I can’t indulge myself in following the feelings (or so we think). Joining Noell in prayer…


    • sarahkwolfe says:

      Thanks, fme2….I think that is a good way of putting it…simply that we know that all is not right and that it is beyond us to fix. The brokenness of our world. There is a sense where we have to suck it up sometimes simply because we have to get done the daily duties…but sometimes I think we need to feel that brokenness to be able to feel the wonder as well of the good and of what God has done. I’m thankful to be able to think aloud a bit here, and find that all of us feel this in different ways….


  3. Cheryl says:

    I relate to this so well. My realization that I was on survival mode for the past two years has just come fully to my attention. I did well in what was required of me, but was very tired a lot. Hey, be careful sending emails like that Why? My dad was on my mind 24/7. To be honest I didn’t have him anymore due to the illness ,but I didn’t want to experience losing him physically. Why? It was about me not him. I was scared. The Lord had to prepare me to be my Daddy on Earth. He would take care of all of us.
    Children and babies have always been a passion and soft spot. I don’t know why? I too hurt for their families. Those things keep me praying and keep me relying on Jesus.
    I love you, relate so well to what you write about and it’s effects on us as humans. Thanks for allowing me the opportunity to expres myself and to also agree with you that your Daddy is amazing and I love him dearly. Even in his challenges of life, he ministers to me.
    In closing, lean on Jesus and don’t rush yourself out of this state. He is teaching us. Reley on Our loving Father to move you through these challenging times. It is hard on us
    With all my love and prayers,


    • sarahkwolfe says:

      Cheryl…I know that you do know quite clearly what I am talking about. So many are going through similar situations…it is amazing how many are dealing with dementia or alzheimer’s. Thank you for writing and adding your thoughts and encouragement.


  4. Dave Rolph says:

    You are amazing. One of my heroes! Thanks for sharing your beautiful words, and your honest heart. It is okay to fall apart. You are held by One stronger than hurt. I’m praying.


  5. Jenn in Peterborough, Ont, Canada says:

    I think I hold it together in my funks to appear strong for my famiy and kids. But I wonder sometimes how would it affect them to see me express my emotions. When did it become important as a parent to teach our kids to supress. Sometimes I am sad, and that is OK. I think my kids and I would benefit from sharing the funk. When I see my kids sad and upset, I comfort and love. And sometimes I need to let my family do that for me. Hold me and love me thru the tears and funk.

    And funks can definetly attach to other funks. When I am in a funk about work, it can grow into wanting to talk to my mom (who is not here to talk with) and then it becomes a deeper sadness.
    So I am here with you, in your funk. . . in a funk of my own, looking forward to the peace that passes all understand, and the joy that comes in the morning.
    Miss you, Sister. . . Praying


    • sarahkwolfe says:

      Yes, my friend…you get it. There is a way that the funks attach…and I do think it has to do with keeping things suppressed. I also think that if we would allow ourselves to express our sadness or frustration or fear…whatever is weighing on us…as it happens, it wouldn’t be such an overwhelming emotion. When we keep things pent up, eventually they have to come out and then it be the weeping that doesn’t seem to stop.

      I do think it is important for our kids to know that we experience these different emotions. For one thing for them to see that things impact us as they impact them…so they are not concerned that they shouldn’t be ‘feeling’ a certain way. Yep, we shouldn’t just teach them to suppress things.

      The funny thing for me, is I am genuinely okay in most parts of the day, but there is this underlying funk…and it comes out when things quiet down. Learning to pay attention…praying for you as well.


  6. Carol says:

    I can relate to your funk as I was in one for many years when my mentally retarded son was young and I was with him pretty much by myself 24/7. He was mobile but even though he aged he stayed in the 2-3 year range mentally. It was hard watching his cousins grow up next to him so “normally” and as you said the funk set in. (he is now 32) But even though you go on auto pilot you do see the little things that might occur shine through. Years later my Dad developed alzheimers and it was just like David (my son) all over again. It was hard but God had prepared me through David to handle it. It took me a long time to come out of the funk with David but I did come out with God’s help and it wasn’t as long when we had to deal with Dad’s illness. Know that all your friends are here for you and I will be praying for you. You have such a way with your words that speak volumes and say so much so elloquently. Thinking of you and praying for you.


  7. sarahkwolfe says:

    Thanks, so much Carol. You have lived through much. I think that is part of what I like about writing…we find that we all have so much in common, and we also find that each person has their own story with much to teach.

    I’m already feeling better, just having written….and of course, it is hard to be completely in a funk with Maddie around…with all the kids actually.

    Thank you again for writing….


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