Falling asleep at night has never been difficult for me. I usually collapse into bed with a grateful heart in the throes of pillows and enough blankets to make even the Princess and the Pea claustrophobic. But around 3.30 am I wake with a start. Full of regret. Like that extra glass of wine you poured. Or those words you used. Or that tone you took. Or that look you gave. Or. All of the things you didn't do. You didn't read to the 5 year old. You didn't look in the eyes of the 10 year old. You didn't hear the 12 year old. You hurt the 8 year old. And don't get me started on the Mister. I tell you my night terrors rival those of Freddy Krueger-only worst. Mine are real. It's torture, I tell you. Living with regret, resolving to do better only to wake with the light of day unchanged. You fall back into those familiar patterns. Until you wake at 3.30 and vow to do better. To enjoy deeper. To love with abandon. To serve gratefully.
It's like the thought I once had, "If I wear my workout clothes to bed I will be more motivated to wake early to hit the gym". On those mornings when I sleep in, my spandex taunts me all day like that infamous "walk of shame" you experienced in college. I say you because I never experienced that in college. High school, yes. Not college. Lord, have Mercy! That is all I can say…to it all. Lord, have mercy. Thankfully, God is bigger than regret as well as resolve! Mine. and Yours. xo
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