Words in Season

I can pour out because I know you fill up. I drink from a well that never runs dry. You are abundantly available to me, ever drawing me closer. You call me into communion with you and I am filled with your life over flowing even in the driest, hardest of seasons. You exchange my lack for your abundance, Christ in me the only hope of glory. Christ in me is enough. Christ with me is enough. Christ on that cross and risen for me is enough. You are enough, Jesus.

I just read these words.  In fact, I read them just in time.  

Words written by Katie Davis.  She lives in Uganda, giving and serving and pouring out her life for the least of these.  She sees and experiences sorrow and heartbreak and even terror that I cannot imagine.

I was just about to write about my day.  

My cup of tea sits just on the other side of my laptop, sweetened a bit and ready to sip.

My five healthy children lie sleeping in their beds.  My dogs are chewing rawhide bones nearby and my dishwasher is running.

It has been a tough day.  

Attitudes were sour, including mine.  Gracie spent a day at the farm with friends and came home happy but utterly exhausted.  Big kids back-talked and little ones argued with my decisions.  Mari refused to eat dinner so was sent to bed early.  The house is a mess.  The laundry has piled up and demands I pay attention.  The A/C repairman will be here in the morning...again.  My feet are tired and I was tempted to turn on the TV and let my brain check out for a few minutes, but I decided to write here instead.  

But God...

He knew I needed a dose of reality so He led me to Katie's blog first, and I am so glad He did.

I can pour out because I know you fill up.  I drink from a well that never runs dry.  You are abundantly available to me, ever drawing me closer.  You call me into communion with you and I am filled with your life over flowing even in the driest, hardest of seasons.  You exchange my lack for your abundance, Christ in me the only hope of glory.  Christ in me is enough.  Christ with me is enough.  Christ on that cross and risen for me is enough.  You are enough, Jesus.

If she can write these words of faith after the day she has lived, then I have absolutely no excuse. 

I have five healthy children sleeping peacefully in their beds.  Yes, one has an empty belly by choice, so I pray He will teach her.  I pray He will break that control-need she still grasps.  

My husband contentedly works at his computer, wrapping up the day.  He loves me through thick and thin.  

My house is comfortable despite the faulty air conditioner.  I have showered and am sipping a delicious cup of tea.  My God is alive and He sees every detail of my heart.  He consistently works in me, revealing the ugly and reminding me of why I am here.  

I choose to be thankful.  Right now I choose to be still and let Him be God.  

And tomorrow I will hopefully awaken with renewed vision, and a supernatural ability to mow through piles of laundry.  :)