My mind has been absolutely drenched this week with a torrential downpour of thoughts.
And I'm left struggling to remember what to do with all this water after such a long drought.
We had a relatively quiet winter and spring event-wise and decision-wise, which was good because so much of our energy had to go into simply just parenting and connecting with each other and making it through each day while I was entrenched in such intense healing.
A drought of major life events and a break from heavy decision-making was needed for sure.
But it feels like during the past month, the clouds have rushed forth, broken open and begun pouring on us; it's not necessarily bad, because you know, rain is needed -- both in gardens and in life.
It's just, well, heavy and saturating.
Earlier this week, on what was my anticipated due date prior to miscarrying last fall a sweet little love, I realized I'm not just dripping wet and soaked with thoughts about, well, everything but that I've actually been caught up and washed away in the flood.
I've been short in patience, fast to sleep, slow to rise and quick to get all wires of communication crossed, my overworked brain unable to transmit correctly all of the information floating around in my head.
The beauty of this is that I now realize when I've hit that point of feeling like I'm floating away on all the rainwater of thoughts before I'm tumbling over waterfalls.
But I'm still further downstream than I'd like, flailing and kicking and grabbing onto tree branches, attempting to pull myself out.
Yesterday, as I grasped at leaves, God in all His goodness threw me a line first thing in the morning in my devotions. And then again -- just to make sure I didn't miss it -- while I was at our last Bible study session of the summer.
"My sheep listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me." Jesus in John 10:27
A call to quiet the downpour of thoughts. A whisper to stop fighting against the current and let the Good Sheperd pull me out and carry me against His chest.
Because, I remember in the midst,
sheep were meant for still waters
not deep, rushing, rolling floods.
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