Good Morning Jesus!

 The first week that I was in my new place, I would wake up and turn immediately to my right so that I would see what I always saw when I turned to the right- the wall. Somehow, that was comforting. I couldn't bear the view to the left. A new view. A view that represented change- my nemisis.
I am naturally a side sleeper...a left facing side sleeper, so forcing this half-awake-I just realized-again-that-I-live-here turn to the right was, simply put...awful.
The second week I decided to try just laying there with my eyes clinched shut, but then my puppy Charlie could sneak up on me and I'd get a two inch tongue up my nose which is even worse than it sounds. Eventually, I'd have to open my eyes and accept that I was in a different place, in every sense. The girl who traded fear for boldness a long time ago is feeling... afraid. And alone. I don't know anyone here. I NEED people. Who will I invite over for dinner? Or just to watch a movie? My whole life is now my kids, my dog and my cat. Uggggh. Kinda pathetic. I'm the cat lady of Davis. Holy Word!
I prayed about this constantly. My sleep habits changed because I didn't want to go to bed so that I wouldn't have to wake up. I tried sleeping on the floor near the closet, snoozing on the couch and attempted to wriggle a comfortable spot in my recliner.
Alas... I needed to sleep in my bed. I resigned myself to the fact that every morning when I woke up I would have to readjust to this "normal"and it would go that way until God decided it wouldn't.
This little apartment was nothing like my house and very hard to decorate. Nothing seemed to fit- not the armoire, the chairs, the couch...not even the art. I was desperate to turn this place into a home for the girls...and for me. I needed it. I thrive on structure and safety and repetitiveness..and the last 12 months had been chaos.
I decided to take the day off from work and FINISH unpacking. Every single item, hung, folded, displayed or thrown away. No more boxes. I needed CONTROL of my life (after almost 40 years you'd think I'd have given up that struggle!) and I didn't even feel in control of my 950 sf living space. So, I diligently went to work feathering my nest. After 5 straight hours, I had only one thing left. A 36 x 42 picture of Jesus. I have no idea why I ever bought that thing. I love my man Jesus and all, but that is HUGE. Kinda gawdy, even for a sweet Christian girl like me. I think, honestly... I bought it for the frame.                        How shameful.
I also had only one spot that needed something hung on it - a reverse wall in my bedroom. The blank wall I had been begrudgingly staring at every time I forgot to turn to the right when I woke up. A perfect fit. Let's just hang the giant Jesus so I can call this place DONE. Check it off the list. Feel accomplished.

And I woke up in the morning... to my Saviour gazing slightly to the left...at His Father.

JUST LIKE ME!!!!  I was gazing slightly to the left- AT MY FATHER!

For once in my life, I was exactly like Jesus. And it was amazing.

In an instant, God had let me out of that sad, sad place. I felt well rested and whole. When I prayed that morning I just was so overwhelmed with love...like the very first time that I asked God into my heart. I floated around the rest of the day unable to think about anything but the giant Jesus that saved me...again.

I realized today, after an amazing sermon by one of my very favorite people.. that sometimes Jesus has to be a giant for us. (Maybe because of my giant ego, my giant self-pity or my giant stubbornness?) And sometimes, he just leans down gently and kisses us on the forehead and tip toes out of the room.....                because.....
we are already asleep.