Last night I attended our weekly meeting. Being a little hypomanic, I talked a lot more than usually and shared things I would usually rather not.
At one stage we were talking about how we hear God. It drew my attention away from just meeting God in my quiet time and reminded me that He talks through other people, music, and even my own body.
Today I met God in a psychiatrist's room. If you have been following this blog, you know by now that I developed a bisarre facination with going to sleep forever. OK, suicide.
In my previous post I rambled down the list of do's and don'ts. Despite all this, I am in a mixed episode and can fluctuate from being ecstatic to the deepest depths in seconds. I managed to get a 'cancellation appointment' with my psychiatrist after an email conversation yesterday.
Today I met God in her rooms. She was so kind and listened and answered patiently. She listened to my (seriously skewed) theory and then explained a counter-theory and reminded me that the most basic instinct is to survive. She changed my prescription again and we agreed on further therapy that is a little more radical.
To you it might sound like the run of the mill consultation, to me, it was seeing Jesus. I heard Him in her concerned voice when she asked if I'll be OK. I saw Him listening to my crazy plans. I heard Him counselling me. I saw His love.
I wonder where He'll be tomorrow.
1 comment:
Right there, next to you.
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