Aimless Wanderings

As my heart continues to cry out for simplicity in life, it seems that life continues to crank up to yet another gear. The last three days have been one big tornado of chaos and messes, with every little thing turning into an emergency or dilemma to deal with. And although I've cried out to God to calm things down as I know He can, I can't help feel a little guilty for doing it. As we enter the season of lent, I'm reminded of the gravity of Jesus' sacrifice, how much He suffered on my behalf, and I wonder how I can complain.

But nonetheless, I feel strained, stressed, and stretched too thin. And my heart cries for solace, for simplicity, just for a break. A person's mind and body can only take so much before it wants to give up and go to bed. And I've come to realize that the more there is to do, the more chaos there is, the less effective I become at any of it. I lose all sense of direction and aim, and I begin to wander aimlessly. I begin to just toss and arm into the darkness hoping I can manage to catch the break I know is out there somewhere. 

And what's significantly worse, in my opinion, is that, at this pace, in this mode, I am no longer an example that I want anyone to follow. I grow dull and no longer can reflect much of the light of God that I am called to reflect. What kind of witness is that? God has called me to live as the moon, a glowing reflection of Himself, but I'm quite sure that no one sees the moon amidst a tornado. 

So, it's time to remove the guilt of crying out to God. It's time to become real with God, showing Him my whole heart, even if it is exhausted and stretched out. Because clearly, I can't calm the winds, but He can. Clearly, I can't shine myself up to reflect God's light, but He can. I don't want to wander aimlessly anymore. I want to see my Pillar of Fire in the desert and follow every move that He makes. I want to live a life that people want to emulate in order to give God glory. He will give me the strength I need.