i often wake up pressed on both sides by two sleepy bodies wrestling this third one for a space in this bed and i lay there fighting to breathe but not daring to move because i don't want to wake either one up.
(though, i suspect, with his body half on and half off his edge of the mattress, that husband of mine isn't sleeping too well either.)
and while i feel the darkness and heat and lack of personal space press in, olivia sleeps on in peace...she's found what she was missing and slumber comes easy.
either the darkness presses in and we find hope fading, or we press in close to Jesus and find ourselves wrapped up in peace.
i thought of this as the sun flickered across my eyes in the early morning hours and she still slept.
two of my youngest robbed me of my sleep in those late and early hours as i laboured through the night. those pangs that started slow and easy, ones that i could breathe through and nap through suddenly raged and it was all i could do to barely catch onto my next breath.
i remember the sunrises of both of those mornings - as a new day emerged and i held new life in my arms. there was relief from those dark hours that i thought would kill me.
this morning's sunrise was no different as her sleepy breath brushed across my cheek.
i think, sometimes, He lets the darkness press in close...
allows it to build in intensity in order to break through the complacency that can so easily hold us rapt until the need to fill our lungs with oxygen forces us to push back and cry out for Him.
worst-case scenarios and all those what-ifs can make a mind spin all crazy. can oh-so-subtly take eyes trained on Jesus and turn them inward.
and without Him, there's nothing good to focus on in these inward parts.
and it's only Jesus Who can bring relief to a soul dragged through a season, no matter how small, meant to birth new life in her.
it's in the middle of all the questioning and wondering and all the circles my mind would go, spiraling lower and lower until my worry had taken on a frenzied dance of its own...it's when His Truth - the very first one i had ever planted deep - began to whisper Its way in and around and through the lies that were screaming loud and i heard Him:
trust in the Lord
with all your heart
and lean not
on your own understanding.
proverbs 3:5
fourteen sunrises have blazed by that window by my bed...thirteen of them have seemed glaringly cruel, even on the most rainy of days.
this morning, though, with her sturdy little body nestled against my own, her eyelids closed over those chocolate depths i find mesmerizing, i felt the weary relief of new life wrestled and birthed...
and hope.
because always, always, always, our days and the moments that fill them and the worries and joys that seep into those spaces - they are all about Jesus.
without Him as the One my eyes, my heart, my soul anchors to, i'm so easily distracted, tossed about by every thought and whim.
but that second Truth i planted deep when i was still so small, before the innocence i can't remember was taken away?
it stakes His claim on my life He's never let go of and my heart is a bell that Unrelenting Love rings loud...
but that second Truth i planted deep when i was still so small, before the innocence i can't remember was taken away?
it stakes His claim on my life He's never let go of and my heart is a bell that Unrelenting Love rings loud...
in all your ways
acknowledge Him
and He will make your paths straight.
proverbs 3:6
