For me, that would be today. A hard day.
It’s late. I’m tired. I’m sick. I’m emotional. One of my projects is in hyper wound up mode to stay on track for release. I owe people calls. I owe people money. I owe myself a raise.
My bones are ground to the marrow. I feel the stress of people around me. I’m anxious for those in the path of the hurricane. My weakened state causes me to question my sanity, my ability, my strength.
But I’m going to write anyway. Something. Anything. Why? If I practice putting something to paper on days when there’s resistance, it will strengthen me. And maybe, in spite of me, it will strengthen you too. Besides, I want to. I miss you. And I want to stock the fridge so that when you come over to my new place there’s something to eat, even if there’s no paint on the walls.
My entry tonight may only be snack sized. But with what the Lord brings to the table, I pray you won’t go away hungry. Come.
Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters;
and you who have no money, come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.
Give ear and come to me;
hear me, that your soul may live. (Isaiah 55:1-3)