The rain is plinking down deliciously outside my dark window. I am awake in a houseful of sleep. That’s the best kind of alone– I am guarding the rear, my loves have gone on before me, but I will follow soon. They are dreaming now, and I’m not far behind them.
The rain has brought a chill with it, and I grabbed one of my husband’s shirts from the (clean) laundry basket, so I am curled up in that. (Does anything make a girl feel quite so cozy and snug as wearing her man’s shirt? It is truly the most divine comfort.)
It’s late and I’m sleepy, but I am writing because that is what we do, no matter what time it is. Writers are on call, 24 hours a day. I’ve been trying for weeks now to write on my own timetable, but it simply doesn’t work. I struggle to share my thoughts and daily activities, but end up staring blankly at a white text box over and over again. It’s not that there aren’t things to say, but I find I haven’t got… something…. to write them.
I think half my problem is that I tend to over think things. I dissect every thought and motivation and emotion behind something– trying to find the purpose behind it. I’m looking for the meaning in everything I do, or don’t do, or what others are doing or not doing, or in what God is doing or not doing. It’s crazy.
And totally unnecessary!
I finally got that the other day. It’s not my job to understand every little thing that happens in my life. Some things, you just accept. Some you let go of. Some you endure. Some you enjoy. There’s no trick answer, no code to decipher, no “other” meaning. It just is what it is. You may never know all the WHYs of life, but that was never the point. Understanding everything that happens in life is way out of our pay grade. And that’s okay. We do much better when we aren’t trying to sort out an entire universe with our little finite selves. It’s too much. It’s silly, even.
My new motto in life is developing into something like this: pray, then roll with it.
It’s funny to me that it’s so simple. Not easy, no. But simple. So many nights spent like Jacob wrestling with God, and it boils down to that. Take what’s given to me, be glad for all the blessings, wait for God to turn my sorrows into joys, and be content to not have all the answers. Maybe the wrestling is what finally allowed me to see these things, I don’t know. But I am glad the striving is over, for a little while. I’m glad to catch my breath, and revel in the Truth.
A train is whistling in the distance. It’s nice to know another soul is awake. I’ll let him keep watch now, as he chugs along through the rain and the night. My shift has ended, and I’m off. I will slip out of my husband’s shirt, and go snuggle up to the real thing, and sleep and dream like the rest of my pack. There will be no wrestling with God tonight. He wins, and I rest, and all is well with my soul.
Goodnight, my dears. Sweet dreams.