Quiet Time

I'm just a little depressed. (The details of this low ebb are both fleeting and selfish -- Surprise!)

So I'm sitting in our living room, in the coolness of the morning, enjoying a little quiet time. Although the family should be trekking to church, I am choosing a more dormant role for the day to think and plan and dream and pray about the future.

It shouldn't surprise you that I pray. That is, not so much in the conventional way -- "Now I lay me down to sleep..." My intercessory cries are much more desperate and urgent. "God help me!" or "Deliver me from this evil right now." I firmly believe that the most effective prayers are those that are prayed out of utter helplessness.

Ever wonder about the switchboard system that connects all prayer-ers to the ear of the Almighty? Picture Lily Tomlin's character "Ernestine" -- One Ringy Dingy! Probably not. Picture the Matrix with jillions of body batteries connected to the central core. Still not quite right.

Try this... Picture the midnight intution of a mother as she has a burden for a wayward child many unknown miles away. And the HQ of a modern war operation with real-time data coming in from all over the planet and a CO making split second life and death decisions to win the war. And the great composer wielding his pen to note by note (life by life, as it were) to create the most beautiful music ever heard. And picture a father running to the foot of his driveway to eagerly embrace a son who he hasn't seen for some time, who left under the guise of self-sufficiency, self-gratification, and selfishness.

God is all of that and MORE.

So why am I depressed? I'm not anymore.

I once was lost, but now I'm found.
'Twas blind, but now I see.

For the wonder of it all...