A little different type of post this week… hope you enjoy.
Picture this. Sunday evening. House clean. Laundry done. Pantry full. Beautiful dinner eaten and dishes washed. Showered, snuggled beside my husband on the love seat with approximately 90 plus pounds of four legged love in my lap. Life is good and we are blessed….
We take the dogs out, lock up the house and settle into bed with full bellies, contented hearts and goodnight kisses. And I drift off into a peaceful deep sleep.
And then for some reason I wake up. Maybe cause I’m thirsty. Maybe the dogs barked. Maybe cause I’m old and my bladder has shrunk to the size of a walnut. However, I get up and address whatever it is, look at the clock and silently fist pump the air because it’s only 2:13 a.m. and I still have FOUR more glorious hours of sleep. Or so I think. Snuggle back into bed against the hubs, sniff his head (one of my weird habits, but it always smells SO good), kiss him and tell him I love him.
And then… here it goes. My brain is has gone full tilt-a-whirl rollercoaster and the fight is on. I get into my favorite savasana (fancy yoga word for nap) position, try counting my breaths, imagining my happy place and finding zen. Nope. Bring in the horns and here come the songs…. I figuratively kick Miranda Lambert of my head and then Mercy Me shows up. So I decide that maybe they will sing me to sleep… But then I start to sing along in my head and that fails too. Finally, I decide to pray. What I should have done in the first place. And I pray for everyone and everything. I give thanks and gratitude for all of our blessings. But the worry monster has reared her ugly head and refuses to give up. So I get out my bucket. The virtual bucket where I shove her, my anxiety, my stress and all of life’s problems that I cannot control. I pack it in tight. Sometimes it’s a specific thing, sometimes it is life in general. Most of the time the lid goes on easy but there are times when I picture myself jumping up and down on it to close it. And then I grab the rope….
And I pull and pray and pull and pray until it reaches the Heavens. And I hold it. Right there. Fearing that if I let it go it will come crashing down on my head and send emotional shrapnel all around me and pierce all it touches. Holding on to that rope SO tight my hands hurt. I resist the urge to open the lid I so carefully closed and pull out things that I think I need to hold on to because maybe I can fix them. Sometimes the urge wins and I sneak out a few worries, knowing all the while they will gladly rob me of my peace and rest.
But the nights that I trust… The nights that I pull that heavy bucket to Him and trust my faith and open my hands and fling that rope…. The only thing that falls and surrounds me is peace. Why is that rope so hard to let go of when we know He will catch it and us? So I’m learning. To let of go the rope… to keep trusting in Him and know my bucket will never be too heavy for him. I’m not sure why I’ve felt led to share this…. But I hope it encourages you to let go of your rope. And remember we all have buckets…. So be kind today… because you never know what may be in someone’s bucket.
Psalm 55:22 “Cast your burden on the Lord, and He shall sustain you…”