In this season, I feel God calling me into a spacious place.

A place with wide green meadows and endless sky and even a few little wildflowers blooming at my feet.

I picture soft grass and sunshine.

I can almost taste it.

But my soul feels stuck. Tight. Crammed inside my 5'3" frame.

Like it has no breathing room.

I don't think that makes sense, intellectually. This is my gap year. My year off. My time for freedom -- artistically, personally, and otherwise.

But when I've done all my tasks for the day, my soul feels like it has no more room to be free.

I'm out of energy and out of focus and honestly, out of the ability to care.

And then everything starts to turn gray.

Recently I've had trouble with my reading habits. I just cannot scrounge up the energy to read the way I would like to. And when I'm not reading, I don't really feel like I have the energy to do anything else, either.

I am craving wide open spaces.

Everything feels tight, constricted.

I have no energy, and although I have goals, I feel that I lack purpose.

Like I'm walking around in a fog of sleepiness and skin and more ugliness in my own heart than I've ever been willing to face.

It's like I'm trapped by my weariness and also myself because, for the love of God, I'm too tired to forge new paths.

The Spirit of God wants to lead me into a spacious place.

He wants to lead me somewhere new.

I can smell it in the air.

Taste it on my skin.

I am willing -- I think.

But I am so tired.

And I wonder if I care at all.

Spirit, I am willing, if You will lead me.

It's really gray right now, so that I can't even see the hand in front of my face. I can hardly tell where my feet are, let alone where I want to put them.

But You will lead me, if I place myself in Your hands.

You are reaching out to me, and my small fingertips extend feebly and meet your firm and tender grasp.

I'm so tired, and everything from my muscles to my soul is tight.

But You say to me, Darling, follow me.

Further up and further in.

I can sense a change in the wind.

The wild, clean air of freedom calls to me.

This is what we were made for.

Forget the former things;
Do not remember the things of old.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.
Isaiah 43:18-19

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