The Beloved never wants us to get too complacent. Sometimes we find ourselves right smack in the middle of an existential and spiritual crisis. It is not necessarily bad, or even unsettling, though can be. Crisis means "dangerous opportunity," so it involves a time to slow way down and listen for the subtle movements of the Spirit. Dark nights are like this. Kinda reminds us that we're not in charge...nothing like hitting one of these, or having one continue, right during Lent...no need to "give something up" when everything is turned upside down, except for God Who is closer than our breath...sometimes we simply wait in faith and hope 'cause that's all you've got.
Standing in the liminal space can be like this. Birth cannot come without labor. It is easy to think you've lost your marbles. You might wonder why what used to comfort no longer does; this, of course, is the point. It is time to grow beyond your own borders.
It is a time of deep silence, questions without words, perhaps. Prayer rolls like tumbleweed: coarse and dry. Often only meditation grants solace. Where, we wonder, does the Beloved want me to go? What does this mean. Why does nothing "taste" right anymore?
How long, O Lord God, how long?