Life has held tough new challenges lately, and I've not felt the strength to meet them.
Worst has been that I'm not getting to my prayer closet as early and as undistracted as necessary for me to receive sufficient strength from the Lord to meet those challenges. I've been fighting weary apathy, devoid of the energy and passion more my character.
That weary apathy has been an enemy to face each morning. I've prayed for the Lord to awaken me as early as possible, when He knows I've had as much sleep as I need, so that I'll have time to meet Him and escape a downward vortex which the enemy says has entangled me.
The Lord has answered that prayer in ways He knows I can't resist—birdsong, thunder, cuddles.
My Daniel is five. He goes long stretches without a nighttime appearance in our room. Then he'll have a night when he awakens to use the bathroom, and not quite make it back to his own bed. Other times, he simply shows up inexplicably, snuggles into my arms quietly, and goes back to sleep.
He did so a few days ago at about the time morning light was making its own appearance. The clock display read 5:46—not too early to get up by any means. But it felt so good to cuddle Daniel's sleeping warmth. It gave my soul peace and joy and love. This was something real and tangible and strangely comforting, as only a small child might give comfort to an adult.
My prayer closet came to mind, and I offered the Lord, but Daniel's here.
He replied, this is that.
And I understood at once that my appearance in the prayer closet feels as good to Him as Daniel felt to me.
I relished the joy of Daniel's presence a few moments longer, then went to cuddle the Lord.
Why do I ever resist Him?
Why does He keep pursuing me?
He is so, so faithful. So merciful. So loving.