I know the common phrase is “joy comes with the morning,” but I think mornings are capable of variety. Or rather grace is capable of variety, especially in the morning.
Last night brought on a little bit of a breakdown. The mental efforts of teaching RCIA last night and sorting out what each individual needs as they prepare to enter the Church, piled onto tiredness from a string of late nights, piled onto the 14 more classes to write, piled onto the manuscript synopsis I have yet to complete, piled onto the fact that I haven’t written any new pages in the new novel in several weeks, piled onto a little loneliness and a little “what the heck are you doing with my life, Lord?”… the layers set me up for a rough night. I just wanted to pull myself out. Remembering the shape of my life a few years ago, when I was still too new to the area and my church community to be very involved in anything, I had nothing to stop me from filling my hours with writing and reading and adequate hours of sleep. And I was happy; I was grateful. My spirit came alive in an entirely new way as I wrote my first book. I thought it would last. I thought, “this is what God had in store for me and I had no idea until now.”
That life ebbed until it is all but gone and I’m left asking myself why I let it happen. Was it my own doing? Or did God ask me to sacrifice for the sake of serving in His Church? I don’t know the answer. I fell asleep praying for renewed faith in God’s directing hand. I awoke with the same questions on my mind but a seedling of bolstered faith taking hold beneath the troubled surface.
Whenever I cried out to the LORD,
Whenever I lay down and slept,