but sometimes, you have to close your eyes.
i'm bad at resting.
even when all i should be doing is leaning back, eyes closed to recover, i don't want to stop. i want to keep tossing, keep turning, keep moving and doing until i'm thin as paper and torn into shreds.
and right now i'm sick. and i should be focused on recovering, tucking my chills under a quilt with a steaming mug of tea and a brand-new book. and t i'm snuggled under these blankets with tea and Hell's Kitchen and fluffy pillows, but oh, my mind is fluttering in a thousand directions.
why can't i rest?
so close your eyes
you can close your eyes.
:: it's alright ::
how many times does He say be still?
it's important to Him that i rest, that i be still and know. and yet, it's not important to me. is that not such a horrible slap in His face? what matters so much to Him means nothing to me?
it makes me sick to realize how foolish i can be when my eyes go on me and dart to the lists instead of closing to serenity for His whispers of
breathe deeply, daughter.
because this Lion's song is what i should be singing, instead of this thudding drum of
it's this restless mind, this broken spirit that aches to overcompensate.
i strive too hard to fix my own mistakes instead of sitting in His hand and listening to the whispers that linger past the storm, the wind, the fire.
i must rest
in these unforced rhythms