Sunday afternoon found me in just a rotten state!  For whatever reason – hormones, the dust in the house, the dog hair on the floor, my ungratefulness (!) – I was throwing daggers with my stare and tone and words.  So I sat myself down for 8 hours – 8 hours I will never get back – and wasted time!  No amount of encouragement about me being human can justify 8 hours – a whole work day – of dishonoring my God, my husband, and my children!  I sat in a chair, ear phones plugging my ears, and set before my eyes vain things.  There was no excuse, just feeble reasons of this and that…that amounted to nothing worth my empty afternoon.  I said I was sorry before falling asleep that night, but God woke me early for one of our Father-Daughter talks.  He knows so well how to hold me in His comforting arms while He stirs me with His straightforward Truth.  Conviction can cause you to stop in your tracks, to catch your breath, and to cling to the only One Who has enough grace and mercy to make the soul well once again.

The alarm went off as any other day – 5 a.m., but I lacked the normal urge to get up and meet with Father via Word and prayer.  So, it was something else altogether Monday morning that moved my body up and out.  I wanted to lay there in my despair and consciousness of sin – in my self-dug pit – and hide from the world.  It seems Father would have none of it; He would pick me up, by His Spirit, and bring me to Himself.  So I sat in that chair and memorized and read the Word and read about joy and just tried to feel okay again.  I went out early to sit on the step…before 7 this time.  It was dark and still; a good reflection of how I felt.

I sat there crying out my shame and my need and my repentance and my desire.  I could never have back Sunday afternoon, but I didn’t want Monday to be stolen from me as well.  I wanted – needed – every new mercy my Faithful Father had promised me on the wings of a new morning.  The sky began to lighten.

How does the Redeemed live again after laying herself down at death’s (sin’s) door?  It’s simple really. She realizes, once again, that she is a Princess laying among rags, and she gets up.  Though she wants to lie there and hide her stained existence from the world, she gets up instead.  Even though she can’t imagine how Father could still look upon her with love, she gets up and goes to Him because He’s her only Hope.  Even when she is tempted to sleep until it doesn’t hurt any more – til she can’t feel – she gets up.  She doesn’t deny the pain or the stain; she just goes to the Healer of her soul Who is able to make her whiter than snow.  And though she goes out to sit in the darkness – her “old friend” – the light still comes.