Yesterday, I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. My physical pain level was easily an 8. You know when you hurt so bad you won't cry because you know it'll make it worse? THAT pain level, and I told the Lord I'm done. I-hit-the-wall-and-then-it-fell-on-me type done. I took some pain meds and slept 8 hours.
This morning in my quiet time a deluge of ideas for the needed shelving units, safety classes and times and venues for them, sharing life skills, and building community came so fast I could barely keep up to write them down, and ideas are STILL coming.
Obviously, "done" does not mean the same thing to the Lord as it does to me. My idea of "done" is glasses of chocolate milk and a good book. His idea of "done" is, "Okay, so your braindead to that. Got it. Let's put that on the shelf a bit and pull down THIS box. Wait till you see what I have in HERE!"
Sometimes His excitement about life, how He wants us to spend time together, and what He wants us to do absolutely crack me up.
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