Take My Time

I often create situations that require too much of my energy and focus. Stress is an enemy that I feed instead of starve. It leads to lack of sleep, which leads to illness. I have a huge heart that desires to experience whatever life offers. Unfortunately, my open heart is commonly broken. My stress is similar to an abusive boyfriend. It knows my weaknesses and presses them.

I usually have three or four months of exceptional productivity, a month of brokenness, and one to two months of recovery.

March was my broken month; April and May were my recovery months. I went to a hospital and had many hours to calm my spirit and wrestle with thoughts that would otherwise stay hidden. During my entire stay, one idea remained fixed in my memory: Jesus doesn’t require anything from me. I had plenty of worries, but Jesus kept reminding me that these two months were for my recovery; not for my preparation. He gave me the grace to relax and escape.
I had two dreams during my stay. In one dream, Jesus was on fire and bleeding from the cross. He came to me and said, “This is what I have done to prove my zeal for you.” I pulled him out of a pit and hugged him. In the other dream, He was in a king’s court discussing kingly matters, but He was more concerned with what His wife was doing as she moved from room to room. These types of dreams come from my deep love for God. They help to explain how I view Jesus. He has proven He is the God that understands the human heart. More than anything, He proves that He doesn’t need my efforts or excuses; He just wants my time. He is my magnificent obsession. He is the solid in my rock. The shine in my star. The giggle in my belly. 
Jesus went to incredible, selfless lengths to solidify our relationship. God isn’t preparing me for something more. He is giving me the grace to recover from my hardships. He doesn't require anything from me unlike American culture. Jesus's zeal for His house and my love will never waiver. his faithfulness rescues me from incredible pain. He places me on a rock.