close or comfortable?

my husband and i have been married for four months now (i know- so many things happened in this lapse of not writing!), and in that short time, we have noticed huge differences between us. not even so much cultural​, but just personal preference. i'm convinced he is cold-blooded because in order to sleep at night, he has to be covered with at least two blankets over his flannel pj's and socks. me on the other hand?​ i sleep as if it were summer all year-round, and can only handle a sheet and maybe a thin blanket to tuck me in. so, on any given night after 11 pm, either i'm laying under the covers sweating, or he's freezing with not enough blankets.. we're still trying to uncover best way to balance covers and comfortableness (go figure that this was going to be such an important area of our lives to figure out!).

my mom sent down stringlights from the States so our house could feel homey- she's the best! :)

a week or two ago, i was laying in bed t i r e d. it was 11:27 pm and i still hadn't fallen asleep, and couldn't get comfortable next to his dreaming body. so i put twelve inches of dead air between us, pushed 3 layers of blankets over him, and laid comfortably under one sheet. and waited.

​sleep didn't come though; it rarely does in less than forty minutes, due to the heavy volume of thought processing my mind does in the evening hours.​ as my thoughts spun imaginary tapestries, an interrupting sentence entered from nowhere

do you want to be close? or comfortable?

immediately i could feel that this was both multi-leveled and from the Holy Spirit.

close? or comfortable?

​did i want to be close to my husband, even though it meant feeling like i had a fever because of the mass amount of blankets? even though his flesh and bones weren't as comfortable and soft as a fluffy pillow? ​even though sometimes my limbs are bent at awkward angles?

or did i prefer to forego intimacy to sleep comfortably?

now before some of you start saying "yeah sweetheart, you say that because you've been married for less than 150 days, when life starts to get real you'll understand the importance of a comfortable night's sleep".. hear me out, because it isn't exactly the point. try it phrased like this..

do i want to be close to God, even though it can mean feeling like i'm melting in the midst of a blazing furnace? even though being close to Him isn't as comfortable as simply lifting my gaze away from the homeless and poor, instead of stopping, looking into their eyes, and offering them something more? even though sometimes i feel more stretched than my human skin can handle?

or do i want to be comfortable, putting just enough space between me and Him so that it's harder for Him to touch me?

when my head is on Alexis' chest, i can hear his heart beat. my head rises and falls as it follows the path of oxygen in and out of his lungs. it is not the most comfortable, but it is the most beautiful, and the most intimate.

when i choose to draw close to my Father, to hear the rhythm of His heartbeat, it is not always so comfortable. sometimes it means not going straight home to our warm house to eat a nice dinner, but to stop in the middle of the street and pray for my husband while he ministers to the homeless guy who washes windshields to pay for dinner with the few pesos he earns. sometimes it means inviting over a girl to stay the night when you'd much rather have your privacy. sometimes it means opening up and speaking your deepest questions to someone else because that brings so much more freedom than hiding it does. sometimes it means letting the Holy Spirit wake you up in the middle of the night to pray for friends and family when you'd much rather sleep until your alarm sounds.

but being close to the heart of God, although not often comfortable, is the most beautiful and the most intimate.

so whether you're cold blooded and crave blankets, or warm blooded and crave the cool air, let yourself crave intimacy over feeling comfortable, because comfortable isn't what God invites us to be -- He invites us to be intimate. to be close.


edit: for those of you curious if i decided to sleep comfortably that night-- i didn't. i said "God, okay. lesson learned. i choose close." and i dove back under the 5,000 blankets to find my husband and lay my head on his chest ;)

confessions

i haven’t been very creative lately.

my camera’s been collecting dust. my writing notebooks have remained safely tucked away, white pages yellowing with my silence.

why has this season been so different from all my others? normally i need somewhere to exhale all my feelings but i’ve just kept them swirling behind my eyes, circling through my mind.

as i self-reflect, i suspect i’ve let my voice get lost in the vacuum of consumerism. a part of me has temporarily bought into the lie that the more lovely “things” i have, the happier i’ll be (and i call myself a missionary!)... but really i’m just selling myself to vaporous vanity. the balance between “see” and “do” has been dangerously shifted and i feel like my sense is sliding off the scale.

i write this to confess and get these thoughts off my chest. believe me when i tell you that i feel a little rotten having shelved talents that i know God has given me. the Holy Spirit has brought to mind several times the parable of the talents, gently reminding me to not bury and leave static what’s been placed in my hands but rather work it and continually invest it for the Kingdom. after all, i’m not here on this Earth for me… i’m here for Him.

so it comes down to balance. i guess i’ve struggled to encounter balance, to open windows of time that feed and encourage my creativity.

sorry, i wish this was an upbeat post written on an epiphany i’ve had lately, but.. just #KeepinItReal

i’m not at the bottom of the ravine but my i can’t say my feet are on level ground either. i’m in a creative and motivational rut, guys, and i can’t say i’ve tried hard to climb out. here’s to hoping writing this post is a step closer to the surface.