my to-do list is attacking me...

So, the other day, I was talking with one of the incredible young ladies at our church, Kristen Schnoor, and she had me cracking up about the fact that I make analogies out of everything in life. As a 5th grade teacher, she sat in her classroom after school, eating Girl Scout cookies and trying to make an analogy. She sat and looked about her room. For quite a while. (Long enough to eat just a few cookies :) 

Stumped, she called to haze me because she couldn't think of anything. And I said, "you could have made an analogy about how Girl Scout cookies are sooooo good. And how they only come at certain times so you have to pace yourself or they'll be gone! And this is like God's blessings. He gives us incredible things but we must use them in a timely fashion and not waste them." 

Kristen sighed, "ughhhhh! see! I ATE MY ONLY ANALOGY!" 

-Just thought you'd appreciate that laugh- 

That's the precursor to this actual post. 

So, today, I've been trying to think about what's on my heart to say. And honestly, every time I try to get there I'm interrupted by some task sitting on my mind. Like there are literal papers flying around in my mind as I try to nail them down and ascertain what the next "must-do" is. It's an overwhelming feeling: to feel like I don't have access to my emotions, deepest thoughts or sometimes prayers. To feel like every effort to turn my eyes upon Jesus is met by some crucial demand before me. 

My real self must be somewhere underneath this: 

Camouflaged by to-do lists, calendar notifications, two phones ringing simultaneously, and events looming in the days ahead beckoning me to take more action than I have.

It's these moments when I long for the day to draw to a close. Not because it's a bad day. Not because I want it to be over. But because that moment, when I rest my head, is the sweetest moment of commune with Jesus for me. Psalm 4 says that when we lay on our beds, we should search our hearts and be silent. Don't you love that moment? Right before you fall asleep:  For the most part, the world can be silenced. You breathe deeply. And the things that demanded your attention all day are hushed. 

I want that in the middle of today. I want the hush, the quiet, the peace. I want to walk in it. I'm reminded often of the line in a worship song that says, "I'm finding myself in the midst of You, beyond the music, beyond the noise." 

That line has always made me think of being deep in water. Like when being a kid in a swimming pool, submersed under 8 feet of water. Seemingly, without a care in the world, just bouncing about in the water. Floating to the top, then diving back down. It makes me think of being in over my head...the world outside muffled and ambiguous. Voices quieted, the hot sun cooled. 

But inside the water, senses are heightened. If a coin dropped on the floor of the pool, I could hear it with a clear precision. I want that with Jesus today - a muffled world outside, His voice clear and resounding within.