When You Can't

...sleep because the sun is already up and you remember last summer's generative habit of word and pen out on the deck before the small people emerged from their beds.  But there are still other books to finish before the summer's practice book begins and just a few pages in this journal to fill before the new one, fresh with the unknown can be opened.  And so you tussle in the in-between looking out at the chairs shaded under the Crabapple and whisper, "soon."

...eat because the stomach's knots are particularly fierce and the heart is beating too fast and you keep bounding back and forth between stuffing the entitlement down, down and trying to understand how grace can actually slow among friends.  Searching for a solution takes days and too much time and what else is there to think about?

...plan because the boy is in his last days learning under your wing and it's time for summer tutelage to begin from professor earth and water and baseball and bike.  In any other year, next week you'd rush out to the sandbox with joy, breathing in the freedom air and line up all the summer read-alouds giddy with the non-required.  But in this final year you find yourself gripping the days and projects and taking long looks that follow the shape of his perfect small nose.  You drink in his laughter like water before a drought.

...quiet because the appointments are popping up in your memory too late, and the Bible study that was the anchor is finished, and certain transactions are still incomplete, home and car repairs looming again, and the workout is not going to happen today.  When you sit on the tops of all the plates spinning and can't see how to get from one to the next to stop them. This,yes, happens to pastor's wives too.  When we see all the swirling around us and determine not to jump in, it only takes one morning to wake up anxious, drinking from a canteen filled with hot desert wind.

But God hasn’t moved to the mountains;
    his holy address hasn’t changed.
He’s in charge, as always, his eyes
    taking everything in, his eyelids
Unblinking, examining Adam’s unruly brood
    inside and out, not missing a thing.
He tests the good and the bad alike;
    if anyone cheats, God’s outraged.
Fail the test and you’re out,
    out in a hail of firestones,
Drinking from a canteen
    filled with hot desert wind.

God’s business is putting things right;
    he loves getting the lines straight,
Setting us straight. Once we’re standing tall,
    we can look him straight in the eye.

                             Psalm 11: 4-7