Eye of Newt and Dead Flowers

Somewhere between waiting at work for hours for a paycheck and arriving home to a televangelist praying against high blood pressure on late night tv, I think I've cracked. No, maybe that was a few nights ago when I just wanted to swear a blue streak while driving home. Home. What a stupid word.

"For Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our hearts are restless till they rest in Thee."

Sure. It's profound and beautiful and profoundly beautiful. Why must it be so frustratingly paradoxical to try to rest? I don't mean to strive. But HOW THE BLOODY DEUCE?!

When You feel like answering, God, I'll be here. I probably just won't hear You because I adore fireflies and revel in poppies, but can't hear the voice of my own Creator. Great. I'm dying to fail. Again.


"My soul, wait silently for God alone,
    For my expectation is from Him.
He only is my rock and my salvation;
    He is my defense;
    I shall not be moved.
In God is my salvation and my glory;
    The rock of my strength,
    And my refuge, is in God.
Trust in Him at all times, you people;
    Pour out your heart before Him;
    God is a refuge for us. Selah."
//Psalm 62:5-8//

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