I am exceedingly weary tonight, and my heart is greatly troubled. It’s just how it is. I cannot escape my tiredness, nor can I deny the heaviness I feel in my spirit. As much as I would like to be in this place, to take the time to fill up this space with words, I cannot. There’s simply not enough of me to go around this week. Accordingly I pull back, lay low, and retreat behind these walls that are strong, safe, and guarded.
We need them, you know—our boundaries. We shouldn’t fear them; we should celebrate them, crawl inside of them when the world demands its due. It’s sometimes hard to go in, sometimes difficult to put aside the temporal pull of our humanity. But harder still, is the struggle to stay out … be out … live out in the sea of humanity—a world that is not always kind and generous with its grace.
In is where I’ll find grace and generosity. In is where kindness lives. In is where Jesus is. In is where I must go until it’s safe to go out again.
Until then, sweet, tender peace for the journey, friends. I love you each one.