I laid in bed last night, not sleeping. I could hear the whirl of my fan, and felt the softness of my mattress. I thought about the walls that housed me and the glass of ice water beside my bed. I tried to will my comforts go away, but they wouldn't budge.
I felt suffocated. I couldn't breathe with all that stuff around. So I got up, grabbed a flashlight and my Bible and headed out the door. Hopped in my car and headed due west.
The midnight sky became lost in the murky blues of the ocean, and the light of a fishing boat was the only sign of a horizon line. I settled easily into a nook, no stranger to this cliff. It is my place of rest, of seeking, and of vulnerability. When I sit here and look straight out, there is nothing but sky and water. I can hear the waves rolling below me, but I can't see them.
Here, I can hear God. Here, everything is made clear. Here, all the love in the world pales in comparison to His. All the wisdom of the world is nothing in comparison to His. He took my stress and turned it into comfort. He turned my confusion to reassurance, and my worries to trust.
It surprises me how caught up I can get. Yes, in work and bills and friends and life, but even in church. I can get caught up with spending time with people who talk about God, and I somehow let that replace actually spending time with Him.
But when I do come to Him, I realize there's no replacement. Today's color is midnight blue- the color of the clear night sky in the summer and the clarity in my heart.
