Re-Center My Soul, Lord Jesus
My day is filled with this conversation or that piece of paper
Emails bombard me, the phone interrupts me,
Everyone needs something as quickly as possible…
Then five o’clock comes and I fight traffic to get home,
By six if I’m lucky.
Only my evening rapidly crowds in on me with
Dinner, laundry, dishes, cleaning, homework for school,
Until my bed clamors for attention.
Recreation seems a thing of the past.
Weekends are not much different really.
I wake up determined to accomplish… something.
More cleaning, dishes, emails, homework, yard work…
Shopping for groceries, the house, the car.
I wonder when I’ll get to stop doing all the things I have to,
So I can stop and stare at the sky, or shut my brain up
For just a moment of still, quiet rest without guilt.
I snatch minutes here and there—
Doing cross stitch at lunch, playing flute at church,
Making time late at night to write as I haven’t done in
So… very… long…
I keep thinking, “Tomorrow, I won’t let myself get so frantic to finish,�
Then, “Finish what?�
There are so many things in process that getting to the goal
Seems an impossibility to me, and I am suddenly overwhelmed.
This frenetic pace of my private life is somewhat silly.
What’s the rush? Someone’s deadline?
My own artificially imposed timetables create
Stress on top of stress until, like an overworked muscle,
My whole self cramps into painful immobility.
I am forced to stop, to breathe, and to contemplate who I am.
I have this crazy mind that wants to take EVERYTHING in.
I want to learn; I want to do; I want to know; I want…
More than is humanly possible for one person.
When I am realistic about what my limitations are
Versus all that I know I am capable of accomplishing,
I have to silence all the clamor of my inner child to “do� and
Remember that all I am required is to “be.�
Someone had a vision of me long ago—
A tiny bird cupped in the strong, gentle hands of my Father,
Held close to His heart like a beloved treasure.
Then He held out his hands and the bird was a broken heart.
He molded the pieces all back together until I was one—
United, healed, whole, strong, and resting in His hands.
It is difficult to halt the habitual frenzy and return,
To the core of who I know I am deep within.
The choices have become so diverse.
I keep trying to do it all and do it all well…
I can in spurts and short sprints with the ticking clock,
But inevitably, I lose momentum and motivation.
The whirlwind must give way,
Because, “The Lord is my Shepherd.�
The green pastures and still waters offer relaxation.
“He restores my soul� if I will quit struggling.
My day is still the day He made and gave me life to live.
In the center of me…
He…
Holy Father God Most High, please reign in me again.