An Unpacking of Sorts

And it happens. The weekend comes to a close and I feel as though I have gotten nothing accomplished. The workweek is about to commence and I have sluggishly wiggled around my to-do list. And here I sit unsatisfied as I look back over the two days I had to myself. Where does it go, I wonder as I sit here and unpack the anxiousness crammed in my soul.

I travel back to Friday where I anticipated a weekend full of accomplishments: articles written, quiet time with God spent, and body rested. But I sit here in a Sunday with empty spaces where check marks should have been. Now with no energy to cook dinner, prepare for Monday, or move from this spot. I find myself here often, in a place that I never intended to be. Frustrated and disgusted with myself because I’ve got nothing to show with this weekend.

I mean how does life work? How am I suppose to spend time with family, work on my hobby, grow my talents, spend time in the word, and rest? Prioritization comes to mind but isn’t all the above important? Shouldn’t it all fit nice and neatly in my week only slightly caressing my weekend, instead of having to cram meetings, appointments, and to-dos into a fleeting 48 hours.  Oh yea and what about laundry.

I mean how does life work? What should it look like? I feel like a marble in a pinball machine being flung from one side to another; having quick reactions, and no true commitments, before I’m off to the next task. Always on the go never able to soak in the moment because time is a factor.

Time; it never stops, except for at work…I think they have some sort of time warp thing installed, who knows. But time, I’m always checking, always counting time spent. Whether I’m at work, on lunch, driving home, cooking dinner, washing my hair, time always accumulates and I always collect it. Collecting it to seemingly place it in the wrong space, causing my gag reflexes to trigger every time a minute is thrown into the abyss of my unprioritized day. There’s that word again, I mean how does it work?

It’s frustrating. I mean how does one meal plan, exercise, eat healthy, go to work, develop a ministry, spend time with God, study the word, and rest? I look up and things have gone unnoticed and slipped in the cracks of yesterday, never to be seen until the deadline smacks me in the face.

I’m trying and it seems when I try the most I fail, and that’s when I feel like giving up. I mean honestly I’m like what’s the point?

But something urges me to keep going, to keep trying, to find my flow in the midst of discord I hear in my eardrums. Something deep within reminds me that I wont get it all right, and it may take a while to find my flow. A flow that will change as I journey throughout the Mondays, Sundays, and all the days in between. But will always be found in the passionate heartbeat of Yahweh. Yahweh who reminds me that HE IS so I don’t have to be.  Yahweh who yearns for me to release so that he can Be. Be first in my life, second and last. So that he can remind me that it wont always look like I envisioned but will work out as long as I allow him to be Yahweh in my life. As long as I remain in his love and obey the sound of his voice he’ll send his strength to my thirsty soul.

A soul that must stay connected in order to see straight and not get lost amongst the details of each passing day.  Connection is key; that is what he speaks to me. Connection to the source who has it all figured out, and all I have to do is release and trust.

So here I am leaning on the support of my Father; starting blindly into a week I know nothing of, but trust that Yahweh is standing in each day, as he is standing with me right now.