I can hear the rain outside my window, collecting and then running down the storm drain and onto the sidewalk below. And in the distance the light roar of a passing airplane along with traveling cars splashing through the puddles in the street. Then there’s the dull hum of an air conditioner kicking on and off again. Attempting to lull me back into slumber, though its attempt are much appreciated, they have been foiled.
Because in this moment, instead of finding sleep, I find myself at peace. A brief exit from the constant discontent my soul has felt from the very first breathe I took. Though I don’t think in this moment I’m sampling heaven I do think that my soul is recalling the time before it stepped into brokenness. Before it was cast into walking in the fall. When it was still blameless and one with the very one who breathed that soul, deeply, into my nostrils and allowed me life.
In this moment I am not upset that I can’t sleep. Instead I’m joyful that I can rest in God’s grace, mercy and love.