1:50 AM.
Sleep is not to be found on this early Thursday, and apparently the words to fill this page are equally as elusive. A crappy movie plays on the television in my makeshift lodging on this road trip, and my attempts at self-expression equally crappy.
The usual tricks to jump start the writing process are unsuccessful. I scan through notes and half-finished drafts. Reading old blog entries is a bit like time travel…but this morning my own words read like the rambling thoughts of a stranger. One recent post described the feeling of weightlessness you experience when words lose value. But the bankruptcy of my own words are far from weightless. Empty words weigh me down and threaten to break both heart and spirit.
2:26 AM.
Despite every attempt at forming my thoughts into a post, nothing takes shape. Whatever the Muse is hinting at, she will have to wait.
8:02 AM.
Broken. Sleep finally arrived at some point. My alarm chimed at 8:00 (the ‘luxury’ of the road…sleeping until 8:00 AM) and I started the day only to find a bathroom filled with water. The short version is that after a trip to a nearby Walmart and the purchase of a mini-shop vac, the floods have receded. Outside, the overcast skies threaten rain. To be honest, they mirror my grey mood.
9:29 AM.
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Lord, here comes the flood
We will say goodbye to flesh and blood
If again the seas are silent
If any still alive
It’ll be those who gave their island to survive
Drink up, dreamers, you’re running dry
This melancholy song moves me to tears. It’s no worship song to be sure…but an echo of hope can be heard. The flood comes and it cannot be stopped. Survive. Endure. For those whose spirit is parched and dry from wandering the wasteland, drink up…we are running dry indeed.
Jesus answered, “If you knew the generosity of God and who I am, you would be asking me for a drink, and I would give you fresh, living water.” (John 4:10 MSG)