I haven’t been writing. I’ve been thinking of what to write. The ideas have bumbled around in my soul for a couple of weeks. But I haven’t been writing. Too busy. Too much to do. It makes me important to be busy, you know. A world to save, parties to host, wisdom to expound for others. Busy, busy, busy. Did I mention it makes me important?

Yeah, I buy that lie for quite a while. Then I crash. This week the crash is hitting. I’m not sleeping well, and I am carrying a backpack full of residual stress. My own fault. My own creation. My own choice. Somehow, it hasn’t made me important. It’s just made me tired. So, today, I put it all on hold. I’m writing. It’s my exercise for my soul. I’m like a lame little version of Isaiah, with a message burning in his bones. Only, my message is for no audience, and it’s just the stuff God is talking to me about. So, maybe it’s more of a smoldering tea candle, than a burning message. Either way, I’m writing. And, in a very strange way, feeling better by the minute.

What are you doing today? Are you busy and important? Is everyone depending on you to carry the day? It’s a lie, you know. You really don’t carry anything, neither do I. We follow the One who holds It All. But we don’t carry it. So, stop it. Do what it is that you are meant to do. Be still. Listen. Pray. Write. Run. But don’t try to carry it anymore. You and I, we’re just not THAT important. But He is. And that’s what carries the day.