Today I think that feeling is beautiful. Maybe it’s because I was on the edge of sleep a few moments ago, but I am best friends with that feeling. You know it. You feel it when you are leaving your house in the morning. You feel it when you are going on a trip. You feel it when you are in bed, trying to figure out why you can’t get to sleep. It’s that feeling.
It doesn’t nag. It’s not strong. It’s a gentle persistent tug on the corners of your brain. Slowly, it emerges from the depths of your mind to bother you when it is least welcome. You know that feeling. The one of having forgotten something important. The one of having missed a vital point. That feeling. It swims around in the acid of your stomach. It inches through your veins and makes your fingertips numb. That feeling.
It’s beautiful though. I’m not sure what God thinks of it, but it’s intriguing to me that he gave it to us. Because we use it for more than forgetting underwear on a weekend getaway. We use it when there is something wrong with our best friends. We get it when our house is uneven. It’s important. And it’s beautiful that, despite logic, we get that feeling. We aren’t always sure what it is, and occasionally it turns out to just be some indigestion, but its useful. It’s beautiful that we have both the ability to have that feeling and interpret it. Even if we get halfway down the road before we realize that the feeling is there because we left the straightener on.