A pervasive restlessness has gripped my soul.
Sleep is vacant
In the hollows of my consciousness, the thunder cracks and lightening brings an eerie daylight into my living room.
Nightmares continually plague my mind, not allowing the gift of rest
My personal inventory is revealed once again, like a rolodex on steroids.
Each incorrect word
Each mistake is amplified with each loud crack outside my window
The crescendo of pelting rain emphasizes all of the wrongs in my life
Am I a failure?
How did I get here?
Surely there is joy in the morning?
Instead, I feel intense mourning
for all that I lost
and all that I failed to be.
Yesterday cannot be repeated today. Oh please no.
The chastising words imbedded in the threads of sleep cannot dictate my future
yet, here they are–condemning, hateful, and isolating.
Will I leave this world better than I left it?
Will anyone care if I am gone?
Do I matter?
Thankfully, a Psalm is open on the table to my left.
perhaps, this is my answer. Thank you God.
“Praise, O servants of the Lord
praise the name of the Lord!
May the name of the Lord be blessed
both now and for evermore!
From the rising of the sun to its setting
praised be the name of the Lord!
High above all nations is the Lord,
above the heavens his glory.
Who is like the Lord, our God,
who has risen on high to his throne
yet stoops from the heights to look down,
to look down upon heaven and earth?
Even from the dust he lifts up the lowly,
from his misery he raises the poor
to set him in the company of princes,
yes, with the princes of his people.
To the childless wife he gives a home
and gladdens her heart with children.”—Psalm 113