Some days it takes every last ounce of
strength to get out of bed.
Glowing sunshine, mist rising off
fields, and the crisp beginnings of fall can alleviate some of the deadness of
heart. The smell of a hazelnut candle and the patterns of sunshine on the pale
carpet can reach in to touch the life that is buried inside somewhere. But
quiet cold rooms and redoing work that was done once before can be a fierce wind
on that little spark of motivation.
What's the point of even trying?
And I
realize that that is just another one of the lies.
Questions plague me about where to go
to church, which jobs to do, who to make friends with, what to even do with my afternoons and evenings... and I am pushed and
pulled in a hundred directions and feel like I wish the world would shut
up and hold still...
just for a moment.
And I raise my arms like Moses did, but while the time moves on
I am left reaching for God.
