I knew I would wake up again tonight. It happens every night now, this falling asleep for a short time and then waking up. In my natural self I have been dreading and resisting it, fretting that it was unhealthy and that I would somehow lose perspective. But this weekend’s meltdown taught me something. (I went over the line (briefly) between healthy compassion for Stu and co-dependence, enough to feel the heat. It refreshed my memory about the huge difference between pressure from God and pressure from hell.) And you know what? This pressure that I feel each night now is something to yield to. As I say “yes”, whole passages of scripture leap into full color, even brighter in the face of the darkness and emptiness of my circumstances. I ache so deeply. And there is an answering comfort to the ache, a Person who meets me. He promises no remedy, at least nothing particular and earthy. No resolution of the dilemma that shouts its facts at me daily. But He does answer------he seems to be urging me to consider an answer that is intangible. There is an assurance that accepting what He offers will actually satisfy on a much deeper level than a mere fixing of the physical reality. He is offering healing. I believe, Lord. Help Thou my unbelief.
I step outside to the midnight stillness. My property is a refuge, the stars like a living, breathing canopy assuring me of His presence and providence. I am profoundly safe with Him, even in this darkness. As I walk through the days, I am profoundly alone with Him. Again, I sense the pressing to accept the aloneness as a gift, to trust that He is steering this experience masterfully, that there is a difference between willful isolation and this setting apart. Isolation would be me trying to preserve myself-----this is something different, a yielding to His design. My heart is filled with wonder and lightness-----I am the woman at the well, and he is giving me Living Water. Whether I sleep tonight or not, I am refreshed.