The Daily

Lately my evening ritual consists of cramming the last 3 hours before I sleep with TV. I feel an urge to live someone else’s television life that includes a great deal of beauty, emotional connectedness, comfort, and meaning. I watch Fashion shows, dance shows, comedy. I wake up the next morning feeling rather numb to the life I actually live. I mostly stay within my physical realm of Home. I keep things as orderly and as beautiful as possible. I feed, I soothe, I wipe, I litigate, I feel the grit again under my heels. I feel by the end of the day that I have merely circled my Realm endlessly poking and prodding these Realities to try to make them shine or glow with comfort or simply just settle.

God, I am missing you. Once, at night in my bed, I saw your beautiful, bright face. Why is it so hard to see it in the day? Why does it require so much stillness, of which I have none? Can you be found in the chaos of children’s voices and needs, in the huddle of mess, creativity, and hunger? How do I find you, Lord, in Management? Did you manage people? What was it like when you were in charge of travel preparations for Twelve? Did you send out huge vibes of Glorious Beauty when you said, “Good morning,” and served your friends breakfast? When you washed the disciples’ feet, how did you find the towels you needed for this job? Was it with magnificence and meaning? Did they just appear?

How do you maintain your holiness while holding a whining toddler’s head above the soapy water? (Your watch is getting wet.) While downing the 12th set of pills in the day to feel some relief from my pain (did I take this one already?), can I, can I touch the hem of your garment? And will it change me? 

Two things I know. I have a great hole in me that longs for something Beautiful and Heavy with Meaning. 

It is rarely, rarely full.