Radiator

It’s been a week.

Actually, it’s been a couple of weeks. Draining weeks. We’ve been going. We’ve been planning. We’ve been fighting with insurance companies, doctor’s offices, hospitals.

In the probably 16th day of the Battle with the Medical Bill, I walked out of my building. I feel empty, drained, deflated, flat. I just wanted to breathe outside air, feel God’s presence in the sunshine, not under the fluorescent lights of my work area. It was beautiful weather. I closed my eyes and breathed in, brought some of my favorite scriptures to the front of my mind. Drawing my tired brain and weary emotions to the beauty and sunshine and promises held in them.

Everything the Lord does is righteous. He is full of kindness. Psalm 145:17

The eyes of all look to You in hope. You give them their food as they need it. Psalm 145:15

Be anxious for nothing, but pray about everything.. Philippians 4:6

I hold them in my mind, in my heart, like hands hold a steaming mug of hot tea.

Breathe some more. Consciously turning away anxiety and asking the Holy Spirit to replace my holes and gaps with His power, His strength, His filling. Reminding myself that HE IS ABLE. Yes, fragile flighty emotions, I hear you, but I’m not listening because I’m reciting scripture.

I lean back against the bricks. It is not warm outside, but the bricks have soaked up the sun and it is warm. Very warm. I press my palms on it, my back all the way up. Crazy how it gets so warm on a not-warm day….

Its because this wall looks at the sun all day. It has warmth to give, comfort to share, even on a cool day.

Do I have any warmth to share? What, if anything do I radiate?

What have I been soaking up lately?

Sigh. Stress. Anxiety in, anxiety out. Why do I let myself get here, so often? It makes absolute sense to keep going in the good things, reading the Word and praying to a God who is, and who knows, and who listens and hears me. It makes even better sense to lean hard into those good things when a hard thing looms on the horizon.

I’m so sorry, God. I have no excuse. It didn’t even sneak up on me this time.

Worry has been seeping in. Hurry takes over and suffocates joy, blinds me from Your goodness. The list of things to do, phone calls to make dizzies me, glazes my mind over. So I tell myself I don’t need that precious quiet time, I need more sleep. That I’ll meet with you later, God. I’ve kinda got a lot going on.

Then what? I’m foggy and gray. Flat. Missing the joy and grace that He has for me!

I need to step back into the Light.

I need to soak up the Son.

I need to be spiritually awake — aware of the joys, aware of Your greatness, aware of Your power, of Your Provision, aware of Your presence and real involvement in the cares and details of my life.

Like the gift of sun-warmed bricks on a cool fall day.

My open Bible – Your Living Word, everything you want me to know, contained in its pages. Why do I neglect such a precious resource?

The praises and thanksgiving of friends.

The steadying, strong love of a godly man.

Baby button noses…new words learned everyday, new discoveries bringing uninhibited baby joy.

God’s presence – whispers, hands of strength and comfort.

“For the beauty of the earth
For the glory of the skies
For the love which from our birth
Over and around is lies!
Lord of all, to You we raise
This our hymn of grateful praise!”

My back and palms drank in a little more warmth. Lord, teach me discipline, so that I can store up Your Light, Your goodness to share and support others who need You.