At Peace

I can't sleep.

This is a problem most especially because by 8:30 tomorrow morning there will be six children in my house, all ages five and under.

They will pulse through my home with the energy and enthusiasm of youth, and I had better be ready to keep us moving smoothly through our busy, exhausting, glorious day.

Why I can't sleep is another question entirely. Insomnia usually means the anxiety is beginning to suffocate my spirit.

I realize the generally dull affect I am experiencing is not merely fatigue or a "mood" but rather that dark shadow that hovers around me.

Instead of restful sleep, my mind swims with the multitude of unanswered questions ... plans that need to be finalized, persons recruited ... all things I could not possibly tackle at this moment.

Leaving me wide awake. Alert in the darkness.

And the harder I try to clear my mind of the din, the louder and more urgent it becomes.

And I pray, crying out to God my silent petitions for the peace of his presence.

Instead I am drawn here. Words pouring onto page.

I yearn for Him.

For communion.

For the whisperings that pierce through the din with their clarity and truth.

The answers that come like hot breath in my ear.

But those answers are not for tonight.

Tonight I wait upon the Lord.

Not in the easy, cliche' sense.

But in the honesty of being bound up with longing,

frustrated in absence,

and simply resigned to wait.

And in doing so,

finally at peace.