Hermit Crabs

I had become one. A hermit crab, I mean. I'm not really sure how it happened, I just looked up one afternoon and realized I was one.

My husband thought I was depressed.
Not sure what my kids thought.

I lacked motion. I wanted to be home. Stay home. Be with the kids, not with my friends. No coffee dates. No dinner out. No lunches or bagels or coffee. Just home.

It came to me later. A check. A quiet voice. A scratch at my shell, as it were.
I had allowed the cares of this world to still His voice, and allowed my thoughts to turn inward instead of upward.

Then, after a meeting with a precious saint, I got hold of the real problem: my heart had grown cool toward my King. I had forgotten to praise. Now, I am not normally a depressed person. I don't have major emotional outbursts or highs and lows. I am generally joyful. Kinda like that crab that just goes about it's business and keeps on moving along. Yet I had let my joy slip away, and didn't even notice it's passing. Praise God for that saint, that listened to my heart and didn't judge me. She simply agreed that my assessment was correct, and pointed up.

I'm glad crabs aren't all hermits. I'm really glad that hermit crabs don't stay in the same shell and refuse to move onto better homes, better pastures. I am even more glad that I, too have moved on. Praise is so sweet! God's Word so rich. Now, I look up.