My Week Off

You may have noticed that I inadvertently took a week off from blogging. I thought about all the words I could write and all the stories I could share with you but the only thing I came up with was "I've got nothing."

Sometimes that happens. Sometimes that happens because I am fully entrenched into a routine that consists of sleeping, working and driving. As much as I would like to make that entertaining, sometimes it just isn't. Surprisingly, sometimes I don't fall into a fountain or compete with a pregnant woman on the treadmill.

Sometimes that happens because I have computer meltdowns or loss of connectivity or I am halfway around the world where I am having trouble finding running water let alone free wi-fi.

Sometimes that happens because I need a break. Hey, we all need vacations and I am a HUGE fan of taking them.

But this time, this time it happened because I was empty. I was running on fumes and the thought of even typing that out made me tired. I was in a deep funk, a funk consisting of stress, fatigue and a touch of depression. In other words, the trifecta of anti-blog material.

Sometimes, this is where life drops you off, even if only for a week.

So, I did what I do best: I spent my free time eating. And when I felt guilty from eating, I ate some more to stuff down my guilt. And if I wanted to escape the sense of guilt from eating 39 miniature Twix bars, I would watch TV. Hour after hour of mindless "entertainment" would pass and do you know what I felt afterword? Worse. I felt worse.

And all the while, as I tried to fill the time and the void with overly-processed garbage, I did my best to stifle the still, small voice inside, saying:

Sarah. I can quench your thirst. I can give you a new song.

And I was like: "Nope. I've got this. I know what I am doing. My parched soul and I are doing just fine."

This went on for a full week.

Just ask me. I can fill you up.

"I am full. Full of nougat."

Stop fighting me. I long to comfort you.

"Hulu does a great job of comforting me. And so do stretchy pants."

I want to give you an abundant life, not one of left-overs.

"I love left-overs. Just throw me some scraps."

And then finally, finally, something clicked. The voice of self-pity was drowned out by my need for something more. Something that this world was not offering: life. I needed the restoration of a hope-filled life not the continuation of a man-made rut.

And with that realization, the cycle stopped.

I love when He brings us around to see this. Because it boils down to this: do you trust Me enough to provide you with what you need?

And for most of last week, I did not.

Oh, the tragic loss of a week.

But oh, the sweet grace of what awaited.

And now I am back.