It’s freakin’ 3 in the morning and I can’t sleep.
Ugh. I’m sure you would just love to listen to me complain about this forever, right? Right.
Words. Words. Words. Though a horse is a mighty creature it is controlled by a single piece of metal in it’s mouth, and whoever checks his mouth masters his entire body.
I go and ask God for something, anything, and He always gives it to me. Always. Not in ways that I would expect, but He answers powerfully.
Sometimes I get tired of talking about God. God says this, He does this, He thinks this, on and on. It’s like boasting of things you know of your best friend all the time, they just happen to be creator and king of the universe to boot. I’ve noticed I’ve been doing a lot of “God is this” lately, and honestly I don’t think I feel comfortable with it. I mean, they’re true. I’m not spreading slander or heresy. For goodness sake, no. The things I espouse can be found easily by a glance through the Bible, not just by unearthing the private recesses of my mind. But…Ah yes, a but…I feel like I spend a lot more time saying God this and God that than I do listening to Him, being silent, still, and waiting. Only speaking when it is necessary, not just to fill a void of space.
I am so wholly and completely tired of myself, and how much I have yet to go. I can see the miles stretching on through the years, and what scares me is that I know God will let me grow, and I know I usually learn things the hard way. Why must I always make things so much more complicated than they need to be, and why am I always dissatisfied with myself?
Probably because I forget it’s not about me.
So…in even griping about not paying attention to God, I shift the focus to myself. God cannot be slighted by me, He’s too big for that. He is I AM.
And I’m left staring at all these inane words. Lucy, what are you going to do with yourself? You’re blabbing; be a good steward of peoples’ time. It doesn’t matter that you fall short or that you can’t find the perfect words, (oh, those elusive creatures), or even that you’re dissatisfied with not listening to God or listening to God. Fine, you screw up and you get on your computer and ramble for no good reason other than that you can’t sleep, so you write to keep your mind and hands occupied while the world is dark and resting. You don’t know what you’re going to do tomorrow when you’re faced with a question that will shape the course of your life. You don’t even know what you’re going to type next. You’re just pressing keys until they make words that crawl and push into sentences that you can cap off with punctuation.
Hmm. Can I add to that? Should anything be added to that? I think not. I thank God that I must not. It is enough.
And that, my dear friends, is what gives me peace.