Why can't I be satisfied? Content?
I have counted gifts. Nearly 1000.
I have counted the beautiful, the delightful. The ugly. And the hard.
I remain discontent.
I am waiting for my knight in shining armor to come.
And rescue me.
Oh, rescue me.
From the ugly.
From the hard.
From that which causes sobs to burst forth.
Time and again.
Bursting. As if something precious has been shattered. Lost.
And it has.
And my heart cries: "Rescue me!"
Oh, rescue me!
Where is my knight?
In the dark, he is hidden from my eyes.
I can not find him.
The words whisper into the black, echoing: "And I will give you the treasures of darkness, and hidden riches of secret places, that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, Who calls you by your name."
Isaiah 45:3 Amplified
Treasures of darkness?
Where else can the diamonds and rubies be found, except in the depths, in the dark?
And my God reveals such only in the black, that I may know Him.
Here is my knight. He is shining, glorious. Come to rescue me.
Not from the bursting, but from the discontent. The despair.
He rescues and gives.
Treasures. Riches. Himself.