I have no choice

I have to update you all today, although this may end up being more of repentance and confession than actually 'updating.' Last night before I went to bed I spent quite a bit of time reading Psalm 139, which I've done hundreds of times. But as crazy as it sounds, several of the verses actually allowed me to rest, almost as though God were giving me permission to sleep.

"You know when I sit and when I rise: you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways...

Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day,

for darkness is as light to you."

I'm certain that there are many more spiritual truths that could be gleaned from those few verses, but for me yesterday, God was telling me to just go to sleep. See, I have been so worked up and stressed out over my list of things to do that even sleeping feels like I'm wasting time. I haven't been resting well because I feel guilty and unproductive. These few profound verses reminded me again that God never sleeps. He is in control. His work does not depend on me. In my actual physical darkness, He is working. I know that this sounds so elementary, but it truly gave me new freedom yesterday.

And so while I was rushing to get to Rome today, and honestly dreading every minute of it...God was preparing the way...again, as always. When I arrived tonight I was met in the parking lot by people who asked for my name and before I knew it they said they were taking my bags to my room. After finishing the paper work at the front desk, I went to my room and honestly, almost cried as I opened the door. My room looked like a room straight out of the latest Pottery Barn catalog, with all of those accessories that you can never afford but they absolutely finish the room. Two lamps, dimly lit. My bag and my computer neatly placed on the luggage rack. And faintly in the background I could hear "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" playing on the CD player on the nightstand. Respite. That's the only word I know to use.

Thank you Father for preparing the way, for creating an environment for me to commune with you and to fellowship with your family of believers. For not letting me go another day. For nearly forcing me to 'BE STILL.' Thank you Father for caring when I go out and when I lay down. May these next few days bring restoration to my spirit and my relationship with you, at whatever the cost.