And oddly peoply sort of day...

It was an odd sort of day. Filled with people and moments.

I found my heart hurting, myself crying out to God in desperation from the moment I came awake from my dreams this morning.

I had a long conversation with a relatively new, relatively temporary employee at work first thing this morning. I didn't really expect to actually chat about the real stuff of life with her. She's married to our general manager, and is just helping us through a transition by coming in for four hours a day in the mornings to answer the phones and do whatever administrative tasks we can throw her way. As we've talked, she's informed me several times that she feels that she and I are "kindred spirits" of sorts. It's funny, because I didn't expect to like her, or respect her. I didn't expect to love her heart for God and people. But this morning we sat in my office, sipping our respective cups of tea, and chatted for probably 15 or 20 minutes about our respective weekends, and about some very broken people in each of our lives, and the ways those people have challenged us and our faiths.

I had a conversation with someone else today that rocked the core of my already hurting heart. A conversation about grace and forgiveness and judgment. I don't understand, though I suppose I've been guilty of it, how it is that we cling so strongly to judgment, when grace is offered. I also received an email along the same lines of this conversation. An email that started out promising, but left me sad.

I spoke with a work acquaintance on the phone, and he mentioned a trip that he is making. A trip that is my dream trip. A trip that God called me to. It was fun to hear someone talk with excitement about the trip. But hard on my heart as well. Because it is a dream that feels fleeting and distant still. Something for which I am longing, for which I hope and pray and wait.

I had dinner tonight with a long-time friend. We met in our last year of high school, via mutual involvement with Young Life. We share a sarcastic sense of humor, a preference to not be the person in the spotlight, and a love of things like books, museums, and the zoo. I hadn't seen her in over a year. After one of the hardest years of my life. So, over dinner, and some post dinner wandering of the mall in which the restaurant was located, we navigated the catching up on a year of each other's lives. And each other's families, since we've known each other long enough that we know bits and pieces about each other's parents and siblings as well. I shared more than I expected to share about my own year. She felt bad, I think, that in the midst of what had obviously been a hard year we hadn't managed to connect. We tried a number of times, but the timing never panned out. All in all though, we mostly talked about books, and work and family, and the fact that she is now expecting her first child with her husband.

It was a good way to spend an evening all things considered.

But this day was hard. Very full of people.

And full of things that hit my heart at some of the deepest core places.

And so, I'm sitting in bed, getting ready to read and pray, and then sleep.

And see what tomorrow brings.

Restless

There's a lyric from a Steve Bell song I've always loved that says something to the effect of "I guess I'll just be restless 'til you satisfy me"

Stillness has been kind of an elusive thing for me this last week or so.

I have a need to be moving. To fill time.

Trying not to think. To combat the panic and the loneliness that come sometimes late at night, or in the early hours of the morning, after I wake and before I pull myself out of bed.

I've attacked projects with a sort of manic discipline. A need to be doing something combined with a drive to feel different.

I'm back on regular supplements to help me sleep. I'd dropped the strength of the supplements by 2/3, so I was sleeping, but waking often, and not dreaming. A friend of mine recently pointed out that the omnipresent fear in my life was exhibiting itself in this area as well. That the active and intense and spiritual nature of my dream life scared me, and so I was making unhealthy choices - afraid to allow myself to hit a stage of deep sleep. Her words weren't easy to hear. In fact, I set them aside, and just to prove her wrong, immediately went back to taking the higher dosage of the supplement I use for sleep.

She was right.

I've been taking the full strength dosage again for about 12 days now. The first several nights I think my body was so sleep deprived that I just slept. Deeply. For four or five straight hours. Which, if you're me, is kind of a miracle. The last week or so, though, the dreams have started again. Not the fully intense ones that are remembered on waking. These are the ones marked by tossing and turning, by flashes of images, and words, seemingly unconnected. By waking unsettled and shaken and off-kilter, struggling as I head into the day.

Today there is panic. Thinking about decisions I've made. Asking if they are truly right for me.

And this longing for change. This discouragement at waking still struggling so deeply.

Laying here in the dark, talking again with Jesus about the story of the man at the pool of Bethesda, "do you want to be well?"

desperate cries.

Rational self-talk, and attempting to only take the 24 hours that are ahead of me - no obsessing about things 3 weeks away.

I used to take a lot of comfort in that Steve Bell lyric that I opened this post with. "I guess I'll just be restless 'til you satisfy me." It promised a drawing near of Jesus, a satisfaction.

These days it feels like a statement of resignation. The sort that says I believe he'll satisfy because I still believe scripture promises that he is truthful. The sort that offers hope that is cold and distant. And don't get me wrong, I'll take hope in whatever form it comes these days, even the really distant sort. But right now, I'm tired of restless, and I'm longing for quiet, and for Him to come and satisfy me. To quiet the manic racing of my spirit, and bring rest.