Sorting the Pile

So many days are not tidy.

So many circumstances just won’t be tidied, not any time soon, anyway.

Part of me is ok with unattended piles and those metaphorical dishes left undone, but there is another side that wants order…punctuation, as in, tidy periods that cross things off the list. Essay-like seasons with beginnings, middles and ends. Complete sentences. Unlike that last one, or this one.  They're only fragments made to look tidy by punctuation, not ideal, but real. Isn’t this how I think and how I often speak?

Now I’ve jumped from housework to grammar with no clever transition…

This, too, is life.

The pace is dizzying. No time for grammar or syntax or clever, just a constant pace of ideas, events, and emotions flashing past at paralyzing speed. And because all disciplines tend to intersect, science brings inertia to bear. When I feel that sudden inability to move amidst the rush, a twenty-three car pileup of thought comes crashing from behind.

Today is pileup day.

It happens.

I could have ignored the pile, but somehow saying what is has helped sort it out. I know the pile or the pace does not define me, yet I sometimes trip or get run over. 

A friend of mine spoke truth today…declared what is, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding…” (Proverbs 3:5) and she added much encouragement. This passage in Proverbs, a well-worn road in my heart and mind, continues, “In all your ways acknowledge Him and he will direct your path.” 

Praying what is. This, too, helped me sort the pile.

Truth does that.