Y’all, I’m so tired right now. I know part of it is literal lack of sleep, but part of it is also just feeling worn out.

Is it also SAD?

I do feel a little bit like I do when that starts up.

It’s starting up quite a bit later last year than it has in the past, for which I’m extremely grateful. November is much better than September. It’s still exhausting though.

I want it to be gone, if I’m honest. The fact that God doesn’t just heal it and be done with it bothers me more than I’d like to admit. But Paul talks about his own “thorn” in his side–a lot of people speculate that it’s a chronic illness or injury, if I remember correctly. He talks about how he’s begged God to take it away, but God didn’t do so for him either, and so he sees it as a blessing, as something that forces him to rely on God.

Can I use SAD that way? Can I use wanting to just melt into the cushions on my couch as a way to rely on God? And how do I even rely on Him? Like I get saying that God is my provider, my ever-present help in trouble. But what does that look like in real life?

Sometimes I wonder if it was easier when God came down in a cloud to show people what to do, when God wrote his commands into stone and handed them over to the leader of his people. But then I remember how quickly they complained and turned away from God, and I think that honestly, we’re all just really sinful. Honestly, it doesn’t matter what God does–I still want to do things without Him.

I pray that God forgives me. And I thank Him for not requiring me to go to a temple and offer up a lamb as a sacrifice anymore, as they used to do. For not having me put to death when I work on the Sabbath.

I know that the only thing I can earn is death, thanks to my continuous sin. I know that I have been given God instead, and that that’s huge, a relationship and gift that I cannot even begin to understand.

God, if this is what you want me to have in this life, then I suppose, thank you. I won’t lie and act like I understand it or want it–I honestly don’t. But I do want you. And if you come with seasonal depression, well–there are worse things. Thank you for not making me pretend like this is easy, though. It’s hard. But I’m glad I at least have you while I’m dealing with it.