Why I Keep Stumbling Through the Darkness

It’s cozy under my blankets.

My alarm begins to beep.

I hear it fade in and out as I try to get comfortable on my pillow.

But my clock, like a determined child, continues beeping until I finally sit up.

I tap the snooze button a couple of times before giving in to the reality that night has ended even though the sun has not quite made its appearance through my bedroom window.

What is it about the power of mumbling “ten more minutes” that causes me to set my alarm clock thirty minutes earlier than necessary?

Finally, I face the fact that my three snooze button gifts have ended.

It’s either get up and get moving now or miss my chance, my one pocket of time when no one demands my attention.

So, I stumble through the darkness of our bedroom,

sometimes tripping over one of our dogs, sometimes stubbing my toe on a misplaced computer bag, and eventually I find my way to the kitchen.

I find my way to my morning drink and my reminder that no matter how tired I may be,

“This is the life!”

And I am reminded once again that the only way to live this life is by stumbling through it with Him.

So, I take my drink (and sometimes a banana), and I join Him for our morning date.

Nothing fancy.

Just my heart and His Word.

And sometimes what I read is hard to swallow.

I don’t always “get” the why or the how of the Bible stories.

Some even make me terribly upset or sad or confused.

It’s His story and our history.

And history, just like many things that happen today, isn’t always pretty.

So, I read and I wonder,

“How can His Word make me better today?”

And it never fails.

Something happens as I read.

I see Moses or Joshua or Caleb or Deborah through the lens of an aunt, a sister, or a mom, and I realize they lived and breathed and had to make hard decisions all along the way,

but one thing always remained they same.

They loved and trusted God with every stumbling step they took, and because of how they lived, I am inspired to love and trust God too.

Sandy feet, gravel roads, dimly-lit caves filled with candles, food heated on open fires.

I can’t even get my mind around how they lived day in and day out and yet trusted in a God who smoothed rough roads, turned their darkness into light, and provided for their every need.

YAHWEH

He was their one and only God.

They loved Him with all they had.

Should I love Him with any less of me?

Deuteronomy 6 says,