The familiar old story -- the mundane, nothing tale.
The story goes something like this:
You wake up.
You check your e-mail/work out/shower/eat breakfast/feed the baby/go to work/etc./fill in the blank here.
You go on with your day.
It is very, very busy.
You get home.
You make dinner/eat dinner/put the baby to bed/wash the dishes/fold the laundry/try to unwind/etc./fill in the blank here.
You go to sleep.
And as your head hits the pillow. you suddenly remember:
"Oh. Hey, God. I'm really tired. Thank you for this day. Please let us have a nice sleep. Be with us tomorrow. Amen."
Any part of that sound familiar?
I get caught up in this story nearly every day of my life.
Today, though: I remembered before my head hit the pillow. And then I read this:
"A mind focused on the flesh is doomed to death, but a mind focused on the Spirit will find full life and complete peace."
Romans 8:6, The Voice
The flesh doesn't go away. The hectic world doesn't leave us. But we are not bound to it. We are not slaves to it any more, if we have accepted the Lord's work through Jesus.
I'm not gonna lie: reading the Bible and spending time with God doesn't erase all my worries just like that. I still might have a crazy day after these moments of peace with the Lord. But He is filling me up, and I always sense a new perspective -- a sense of priorities in their places -- when I read the Word than when I don't.
Because when I don't spend time with God, I'm basically saying I'll focus on the flesh and let stress live in my heart.
When I spend time with God, I'm saying I'm willing to let Him do some work in me, even if that means I have to stay up a half hour later doing the dishes.
Today, I'm saying I'm willing.
How do you choose peace every day?
What part of the story resonates with you? What do you struggle with, and how do you try to overcome that struggle?
"There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs."
The break was good.
And although I had trepidations about returning, there was this persistent prickling in my brain. Words that needed to be written. God's Spirit calling me to think more deeply about the words I was reading from the Word. And then finally: a conviction to start.
It will be different. At least in the beginning, I fear I won't be a "good" blogger. I know what it takes to be a good blogger, and it takes a lot of time. A lot of research. A lot of reading and commenting and community. I honestly just don't know how I will do it all. Maybe I will, but I can't promise I will be able to comment on everyone's blog every week. I will do my best, but I can't have the pressure of trying to be a "good" blogger.
I will be me. Just me.
Writing when I can; abstaining when I can't.
Hoping someone will hear, but being okay if no one does.