Wednesday, April 13, 2011

4/11/11

I just spent the last few hours in something akin to sabbath.

Now I am sitting with the back door open, watching a storm roll in.  Literally, as if something dark and heavy was spilled.  And the puddle is spreading across the sky.

I feel a little guilty for just sitting here.  I have no motivation.  I should be doing school work.  I should be working on a policy paper, reading a few books, and trying to understand equilibrium, supply, and demand.

But I'm not.

I am painfully aware of how much I need rest.  My body is craving sleep.  But not just sleep.  Stillness.  Bigness.  Space.

I need room to breathe.

I feel like all my ideas and thoughts and feelings are crammed into one square foot in my brain.  And I don't have room to rearrange any of it.  Inside of myself ...

Well.  Here comes the rain.

And the wind.

Hello, spring.

Lord Jesus, speak to me.

I have been deeply discouraged lately.  In the midst of chaos and routine change, the enemy has tried to hijack my spirit.

Like a weed in my garden.

Choking the harvest that's growing.  Smothering my hope.

So I'm going to sit here for a few minutes.

My Sabbath hour.

Lord Jesus, come.

What do you want from me?

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