You
hem me in—behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me.
(Psalm 139:5)
As
usual, it is the day before you read this. The sun has not come up yet on
Easter Sunday. It’s my first Sunday home from Florida, and I was looking
forward to going to church. But last Sunday, Dad broke a lumbar vertebra and
the pain medication they have him on makes him even more likely to fall again
than he already was. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to get a job when I came
north, but I’d hoped to go birding, to be able to do stuff, at least once in a
while. Right now, it’s seeming like rushed errands may be the limit: under an
hour for the round trip. We may find out more Tuesday at the doctor’s.
This morning, I’m feeling hemmed in. God seems to be closing me in. This isn’t the first time I’ve assumed the worst and had it turn out later not to be so bad. I tend to see things through dark lenses. The good side of that is that I enjoy the benefits of it not being as bad as I thought it would be, instead of thinking it’s all going to be fine and it turns out harder.
I’m mourning my freedom. I’m mourning getting a good night’s sleep, taking part in activities I enjoy, the intellectual and spiritual stimulation I enjoy at my church, my father’s passing (even though he’s still alive, he’s becoming less and less my father and more and more my patient.) And I’m probably blowing it all out of proportion – again.
Yes, I’m feeling decided hemmed in. Even now, as I have said before, “God is still good.” There are benefits to being stuck at home. One huge benefit is that it’s an opportunity to practice loving Dad more. Another is that it reduces the distractions from my books. Perhaps the most important is that it forces me to trust God to bring to me what I cannot go get.
Bring it on, Father. Bring on the blessings both hard and soft that I cannot go seek. Begin with wisdom, direction, and attitude, but don’t stop there. Guide me to finish Earth Fire and Soul Fire, and to get work done on the third book. Bring to me the ideas, the motivation, and the discipline I need to see them completed. Above all else, give me You.
This morning, I’m feeling hemmed in. God seems to be closing me in. This isn’t the first time I’ve assumed the worst and had it turn out later not to be so bad. I tend to see things through dark lenses. The good side of that is that I enjoy the benefits of it not being as bad as I thought it would be, instead of thinking it’s all going to be fine and it turns out harder.
I’m mourning my freedom. I’m mourning getting a good night’s sleep, taking part in activities I enjoy, the intellectual and spiritual stimulation I enjoy at my church, my father’s passing (even though he’s still alive, he’s becoming less and less my father and more and more my patient.) And I’m probably blowing it all out of proportion – again.
Yes, I’m feeling decided hemmed in. Even now, as I have said before, “God is still good.” There are benefits to being stuck at home. One huge benefit is that it’s an opportunity to practice loving Dad more. Another is that it reduces the distractions from my books. Perhaps the most important is that it forces me to trust God to bring to me what I cannot go get.
Bring it on, Father. Bring on the blessings both hard and soft that I cannot go seek. Begin with wisdom, direction, and attitude, but don’t stop there. Guide me to finish Earth Fire and Soul Fire, and to get work done on the third book. Bring to me the ideas, the motivation, and the discipline I need to see them completed. Above all else, give me You.
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