When Sleep Elludes

4:15 am. CAT.

Thats "Central Africa Time" which is about 6-7 hours ahead of those far ones that inhabit my heart.

That seems to be the time I see these days. I wish it was because I am a morning person, but sadly that's just not the case!

Thoughts. Things out of my control. Dreams. Like seriously... really weird dreams.

I am admittedly the worst over-distance communicator. While I can communicate well, it seems that it is a location thing. I knew this about myself before the distance thing happened. I have struggled with correcting it, but I have really not figured out how to do it.

So boiled down... my communication looks a lot like this.

Close = Good.
Far = Bad.

I have no idea why. It isn't like my mind and heart shut the "far" ones out. Its quite the opposite in fact.

I think the biggest part of it is, it hurts. Like literally, physically hurts. There is a yearning and a desire to be with the far, and when it is Absolutely. Impossible. I seem to have no guard against the overwhelming missing and longing of them. It is almost like to survive, a part of me closes off. Like a slide covers my heart over the spaces the far inhabit. It is a protection to be sure, but it feels like a wall. A callous.

And even more troubling, to the far, it looks like disinterest. Un-love.

This makes a void, and that is always a problematic thing. Minds and hearts cannot easily manage voids. Voids are like sucking spaces that grab onto things, whether true or not, just to be filled. The void can fill with thoughts and feelings that are untrue. Thoughts that are completely understandable. Feelings that are real, painful. Both are justifiable.

The problem with voids filled with untruth is they don't go away. Like little swollen glands they remain painful when touched and grow with time. Time. Time.

And when the time passes and the far become the close, its just painful. Awkward. Funk.

Oh Lord! please help me to navigate this. I am overwhelmed with the weight of it. Troubled with the lack of solutions my feeble little brain can come up with. Frustrated with my weak self. Wanting things to feel full and free, whole and complete. These are the things that Only the Omniscient One can know, and the Omnipotent one can solve.

You have very little to work with, and this clay is really not the best for any potters wheel. I can feel the grit and rocks that will fight you. I can feel my off-centeredness fight against your hands. I am dry.

I fall on you to be broken. To be made pliable. Smooth. Useable.

Throw me upon the batt of your wheel and make a vessel that is useable. Loving. Able to pour out onto those near and far.

Thou art the Potter.

I am the clay.

Mold me and make me.

After thy will.

While I am waiting.

Yielded and still.