It’s a gray morning and only Tuesday.
I felt the foggy hue before I turned from the twisted covers to decide, “Get up, now.”
Made my way down the hall to discover Colt’s overnight task of removing the stuffing from his bed.
White fluffy puffs scattered in the mud room illuminated by laundry room light left on, piles of unsorted clothes, jeans, T-shirts, belts, shoes, towels all mingled together, my appointment for tonight.
I flipped the light off, closed the door and walked towards coffee.
Sat with my journal, a defiant posture, huffy and discontent.
Barely said goodbye to my daughter as she turned to leave.
Caught myself, not soon enough though, glanced towards the fog outside and said “Be careful.”
Yesterday was a good day, Lord. Why this discontent today?
Why this cluttered and anxious mind?
Jotted a bullet list called “What am I stressing over? Why this mood?”
Why do we long for more, for different when what we have is not just enough, it’s more than enough?
Why these empty and cluttered places I’m pondering today, places of a dissatisfied, wandering heart?
Places waiting to be filled to abundance, waiting to be the resting place of God. Places of uncluttered contentment, of abiding peace. Places we know mean rest.
Instead, I woke feeling like a 40 year desert wanderer, enmeshed with a throng of disgruntled and dissatisfied seekers of more. Looking everywhere for better, all the while surrounded by goodness, manna raining down from God.
Oh, Lord, forgive my discontented selfish heart that tends to wander. Fix my eyes, heart and thoughts on you, I prayed.
O’ Lord, You have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my every thought when far away. You chart the path ahead of me and tell me where to stop and rest. Every moment You know where I am. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord. You both precede and follow me. You place Your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to know! Psalm 139:1-6
I move along in routine, grab the tennis ball delivered by Colt. Walk barefoot to accept the day, feet moist and covered in specks of green and straw brown pieces of nature. Trees, darkened by two days rain, leaves mottled and moist with season and damp. The plantings of summer allowed to wither, cold is coming anyway. Trees laced with thick complex webs with leaves caught within, layered, entrapped.
The sky is a dull, almost porcelain gray and the cows from a field up the road, moan low and long in agreement. I look for sunshine, tossing the tennis ball, intermittently praising its retrieval, a big happy dog content with “Good, boy, Colt.” then turn back towards the door, seeing more color, less gray.
And then I pray, Lord, forgive our discontent; remind us of your goodness and graciously embrace our wandering hearts.
I link up with Jennifer Dukes Lee every week. I have just read her latest post with a contented smile resting on my face. Her colorful story of our heavenly reunion she has dreamt of just excites me for today, for what’s to come, for living to radiate Jesus! I encourage you to read this. It’s another gray day here, humid on this last September day. Click here and smile, assured of heaven.