
I honestly think it was partially God reminding me that ultimately He is sovereign over every little thing: even my ability to get out of bed. I have been so determined this month to do every. single. day. for the full thirty days. Surgery forced me to let go of that idealistic goal.
And now for the "Early to Rise Challenge - The Midnight Edition on Adjusting Expectations" post. (And possibly the longest blog post title in history; or at least the longest in this blog's history.)
I got in bed at 8:45, watched NCIS until 10:00 and then settled in to go to asleep. My handy new alarm clock app was set for 6:00am.
Everything was perfect.
Well, until the pain in my mouth increased to the most it's been in days. Actually, this new kind of pain is the first time it has really kept me from sleeping. The other pain was awful too but was easier to sleep with.
So here I am at midnight. I finally got up and ate a string cheese so that I can take Vicodin. I have my "sleepy playlist" playing on my alarm app. It's doing its job but I have to say it's failing miserably in putting me to sleep.
The alarm clock is about to be switched to 7:30. I'm still fighting infection and can't deny my body of too much sleep or the hospital may just be my new home for a night. And seriously, I'd like to avoid that if at all possible.
Adjusting expectations and goals is not my favorite thing to do; especially when those expectations and goals are good things. Rising early has so many benefits and has been a real growing experience for me. Letting go of my ideal plan for being up by 6:30 every morning has honestly been hard for me. I'm an all or nothing person (almost to a fault).
The best way to look at this right now (at least the best way my foggy, exhausted, drugged brain can come up with) is this: I'm learning more lessons by having my plans thrown off, by having my expectations adjusted, than I would have if these thirty days had gone "perfectly".
There are more lessons.
There is more growth.
There is more character being built.
Jesus is becoming even more of my daily and hourly thoughts.
He's becoming more of my continual strength.
And that makes each painful, sleepless, tear-filled moment worthwhile.
(And makes it easier to switch that alarm clock to an hour and a half later.)
Because what I want is more of Him.
The Lord is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; Of whom shall I be afraid? Psalm 27:1