just when you don't have time, become a prisoner

Repeating it over and over, didn't make it true. It was painfully obvious.

Day five of being gone, again, was taking it's toll. And now it was Sunday, planned with games, food, fellowship and worship all rolled into one.

And as much as I love these get-togethers, this day my energy didn't match my typical anticipation.

So I said it in hopes my kids would have mercy, "I'm so very tired and grumpy." And I repeated it over and over that day.

It wasn't their fault I was exhausted.

Drudgery seemed to be in every effort to ready ourselves out the door. People normally energize me, so I had hoped to be revived.

But, this day wasn't normal.

Like a lump in the car, I sat, when my kids asked "Are you feeling better now that we're driving there?"

Loading up was over and now I could rest for the long drive. There was that. "Yes." I said without adding "for now".

And that blessed revival never came.

I remembered how long it'd been, five days now of weary sleep, early mornings, three days of sinus headaches, fall-into-bed-bone-tired and I missed being alone.

All my days spent being here, there and with good, sweet fellowship. But then I'd run out, spring a leak of time until I only had enough to get to bed.

"And it happened, as He was alone praying,

that His disciples joined Him, and He asked them, saying,

“Who do the crowds say that I am?” Luke 9:18

Who do they say I am? Who, but the crowds? The swarms of people, following, listening to every dripping word like honeycomb, crowds. He was tired. His flesh weak with physical exertion from all the travels, walking, ministering, talking, fellowship times of being near these people He created.

And my week had been a flurry and I felt squeezed. Days crowded by activity to the exclusion of getting alone. When the house goes quiet in sleep and my lone bedside light shining and I feel butterflies inside, "It's just You and me."

Alone. Precious time crowded out by worldly activity and sustaining rest is really about getting alone.

When the world caves and crushes with it's demands, I need a stronghold that withstands pressure. A communional of time, set alone, where rest comes to restore. Easter living remembering who is He, my eternal hope. The marvelous thought which sends shockwaves to electrify my senses and chains me, gloriously bond to an abiding restorer of Hope.

It's about taking the time to be a prisoner of Hope, daily.

"Return to the stronghold, you prisoners of hope.

Even today I declare that I will restore double to you." Zechariah 9:12

Shared this at Ann's.

And at Emily's "Imperfect Prose" ....