Two observations today:
1) As an engaged woman, the wedding planner is now a horror film. As soon as you're not single, that movie becomes pure evil.
2) I sleep more than most people I know. When I get stressed out or sick, I sleep even more. And I get kind of rage-y when someone or something keeps me from sleep. Or wakes me from it.
Which is why it used to be rough answering the phone at 7:00am every morning when Anthem would call me on his work breaks. I would glare at my phone. I would consider throwing it against the wall. But I would pick up, and fight the urge to be cranky, and talk to the man I loved.
As the weeks and months have gone by, it is completely opposite. I grab my phone as soon as it rings, and often wake up a few minutes before it rings in anticipation. My brain starts working immediately to try and wake up so I can actually engage with my Anthem in the morning. I love waking up to him, even on days when I'm tired and can't get back to sleep because my brain has already started.
I was idolizing sleep. I was letting it decide my life, rather than using it for the tool it is. We are to conquer the flesh. That doesn't mean abusing it, but rather being master over it. And not giving it priority over anything that ought to be greater.
I'm so thankful for Anthem. I feel often as if he has woken me from a deep slumber that I had let myself fall into, forgetting the energy of youth and the ambition of righteousness and mission and adventure. Sleep is useful. But it is only a tool.
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