Awakened by worry, I fight the familiar battle. Flaws, failures, fears bombard. I feel my heart beating fast and hard in my chest. Desperate for peace, for hope, I ponder the fight.
What is my best defense? Repentance? Pleas? Plans to do better, work harder, live smarter?
My mental efforts fall futile with a thud on the bottom of my heart. I feel the heavy chains, even heavier anchor, holding me, weighing me down. Keeping me bound to this temporary, yet oh so real place.
But my feet were made for higher ground than this. Even the best this place has to offer. Even plans and ambitions that succeed.
"We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered to us. Like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the the sea. We are far too easily pleased." ~ C.S. Lewis
Maybe this battle is not supposed to be won. Or even fought.
Could it be I am trying to tidy up my slum when I'm meant for paradise?
As I lay in bed getting trampled by my fears, I reached for my iPhone to play a song. Any song. Hopefully something hopeful.
This one played.
And my soul woke up and remembered, that while my concerns, worries, fears are relevant (I do after all walk this terra), I am eternal.
I'm not made to be satisfied with mud pies. So when they break and fall apart I can cry like a child, and He'll wipe my tears, but no matter how perfect, mud pies won't ever fill my soul.
Only He will. His holiness. His glory. His love. And because Heaven and earth are full of His glory, there is hope that I can be full.
As I walked out of my room to the early quiet morn, I saw glory . .
* my son-man curled up on the couch, happy to give up his bed to visiting family
* my girl, Emy, at the table weeping quiet over her Bible