Pajamas

I am wearing my PJs to work today. Like, I literally wore these pants to bed last night. And now I am wearing them in broad daylight, in a professional environment. I use the term professional loosely for a number of reasons, the first of which being: I work with a passel of men, most of whom tinker in a warehouse and wear padded plaid on the reg.

I would try to care a little more, but also I'm sick. I'm dealing with a fatal pollen attack, or my boss and two of the men I work closest with have been coughing up a lung and every inner organ for the past two weeks. Either way, I am stuffy and sneezey and coughy...and pajamas had to be worn.

I feel like I've had a lot lately. Not necessarily a lot on my plate, because everyone has their own version of a crazy schedule. Not really a lot in terms of trials or hard times, because I really believe that everyone is tested to capacity in their own way. I've had a lot of life happening lately. I follow this blog, and had a really neat experience the other day (or middle of the night) that came from something Jamie posted.

I was extra stuffy while getting ready for bed, and was dreading sleepy time because I had not slept well the night before. I asked JR for a blessing and then prayed extra hard for a good night's rest and sincerely thought my prayers of healing would be answered. Wake up in the morning and no more sicky. As I prayed, I had a clear impression that "My God is bigger than all this." He's bigger than my sickness, and my heartache and my "a lot of life". I didn't wake up super rested in the morning, in fact I woke up about 7 times throughout the night. But each time I woke up to sniff or cough or roll over, I had the same sleepy thought; "My God is bigger than this." It was so comforting.

Here's an excerpt from Jami that spurred that thought:
From everyday prayers by Scotty smith : 
The king is not saved by his great army; a warrior is not delivered by his great strength. The war horse is a false hope for salvation, and by its great might it cannot rescue. Behold, the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his steadfast love. Ps. 33:16-18
Dear Lord Jesus, though it’s not fun, it is a good thing to come to the end of ourselves—to be in situations where all our of resources and strength, all of our life experiences and smarts are simply not enough. Indeed, it is a gospel thing to feel the pain of realizing that whatever worked in the past is not working in the present moment; to feel the confusion of not knowing what to do next; to feel the helplessness of being out of control—to be in a place of actually needing you.

For only in those times do we abandon ourselves to the God who alone can part Red Seas (Ex. 14); who can overthrow whole Midianite armies with three hundred gun-less soldiers (Judges 7); take down Goliaths with a pebble (1 Sam. 17); feed multitudes with a few fish and pieces of bread (Matt. 14); raise a dead man for the salvation of his people and the transformation of the cosmos (1 Cor. 15). Indeed, some things happen to us that “we might not rely on ourselves but on the God who raises the dead” (2 Cor. 1:9).

Jesus, we abandon ourselves to you today, for you are that dead man who now lives. You are the One who is redeeming his bride and making all things new. It is your unfailing love that we can and must hope in. There is no other supply sufficient to the need. There is no other strength sufficient for the task. There is no other balm sufficient for the pain. There is no other rest sufficient for the exhaustion. There is no hope sufficient for the multiple issues in front of us.

We bring our broken, conflicted and wandering hearts to you. We bring our struggling marriages to you. We bring our divided churches to you. We bring our hurting friends to you. We bring our wayward children to you. We bring our unbelieving neighbors to you. We bring the needs of our community to you. We bring our crazy world to you. We bring it all to you, Jesus. We will trust in you and your unfailing love. Astonish us by bringing much glory to yourself. So very Amen we pray, in your merciful and mighty name.