It happens to you, right? You know that you need to find focus to put words together for something. For a prayer, for a thank you note, for a blog post, for an apology, for a call to tell someone that things aren’t going well.
You know that when you finally start writing, eventually the words will come. But you “can’t” get to that moment. You cannot sit still.
I’m not sure that it’s normal procrastination, some of the time. I know procrastination. We’ve met daily for decades. No, there’s something about this one that feels different.
And then I hear a whisper.
“Come over here. You can bring your weariness and your confusion. That’s fine. There’s a global pandemic. I’m being blamed for it and for not stopping it. I’m aware of what people say. Sometimes they even tell me. And people are hating on people and blaming me. I’m blessed and blamed on every side of the hatred.
But I’m talking to you. You come over here. I will give you rest. I’m not going to take your list of suggestions about how to fix things. But I am going to give you rest. And now, think about what following me means. I give direction. I’m not giving you a snack and sending you out to figure things out. But the rule I give for pulling together isn’t itself burdensome.
The load you are carrying is about what you think I want based on what someone told you I want. But some of those people were taking what I meant just for them and making it for everyone, or taking what was true for that moment making it for always.
We need to talk about it. You need to reflect with me, learn from me.
Come over here. Rest a bit.”