Psalm 4 is the nighttime lament. A soul caught between grief and grace, whispering through clenched teeth and softening somewhere mid-prayer. It's where anxiety gets turned inside out and Presence becomes a pillow.
Glad it landed, Lana. Shadows are sneaky like that. They’ll let you chase them all day but never once turn around and notice you. The trick is to stop running and realize the light was behind you the whole time.
I am tired of pretending i don’t need you (no energy left)
Sitting with me in the ache (who does that?)
This joy does not leave (longing for that forever)
Sleep comes not because the world is safe
But because I no longer need it to be. (Faith I’ve always dreamed of)
I am enough even in the dark (do i dare to believe that?)
Oversleeping till after noon, waking up to this took my breath away literally - sounds corny but often i AM corny & sometimes itz really true & does happen (at least to me). Also no coffee yet, still in bed - those comments in parentheses were too loud to stay in my head & escaped, proof of my ego’s mouthy wounds, incredulous & refusing to accept what heals me. I wonder what would happen if i allowed myself to surrender, believe & read this every day & nite?
(Guaranteed i will not throw my phone across the room, done that too many times, sometimes I DO learn)
Gratitude is spilling out of me out of the bed flooding the cluttered little house with it. I do wanna see the chiropractor but i just wanna tape these words, lay in the bathtub & listen to it on an eternal loop. 🪷
Beth Ann, your parentheses are psalms in exile. The parts of you that doubt, ache, roll their eyes, or throw the phone are not proof of unbelief. They are proof you are alive. Faith isn’t sterilized silence. It is exactly what you wrote: corny, tired, mouthy, suspicious, flooded with gratitude anyway. Keep letting the whispers escape. They are already prayers.
“I chase shadows then wonder why I feel unseen” felt like a punch in the gut of truth 🤣
Glad it landed, Lana. Shadows are sneaky like that. They’ll let you chase them all day but never once turn around and notice you. The trick is to stop running and realize the light was behind you the whole time.
I am tired of pretending i don’t need you (no energy left)
Sitting with me in the ache (who does that?)
This joy does not leave (longing for that forever)
Sleep comes not because the world is safe
But because I no longer need it to be. (Faith I’ve always dreamed of)
I am enough even in the dark (do i dare to believe that?)
Oversleeping till after noon, waking up to this took my breath away literally - sounds corny but often i AM corny & sometimes itz really true & does happen (at least to me). Also no coffee yet, still in bed - those comments in parentheses were too loud to stay in my head & escaped, proof of my ego’s mouthy wounds, incredulous & refusing to accept what heals me. I wonder what would happen if i allowed myself to surrender, believe & read this every day & nite?
(Guaranteed i will not throw my phone across the room, done that too many times, sometimes I DO learn)
Gratitude is spilling out of me out of the bed flooding the cluttered little house with it. I do wanna see the chiropractor but i just wanna tape these words, lay in the bathtub & listen to it on an eternal loop. 🪷
Beth Ann, your parentheses are psalms in exile. The parts of you that doubt, ache, roll their eyes, or throw the phone are not proof of unbelief. They are proof you are alive. Faith isn’t sterilized silence. It is exactly what you wrote: corny, tired, mouthy, suspicious, flooded with gratitude anyway. Keep letting the whispers escape. They are already prayers.