At her usual frenetic rate of 5 questions per second, my daughter asked,  “Dad are you happy? Are you sad? Are you anxious? Are you depressed? Did you hear me?” 

Given that this fusillade of questions was peppered at the conclusion of a family trip, I said, “I’m just tired.”

“But that’s not an emotion, Dad!” she stated indignantly before listing off the options once more for her ostensibly obtuse father.

“No, I’m just tired.  And since I’m tired, it isn’t really giving any of the emotions a chance. I don’t feel much of anything…and that’s why we’re at Starbucks.”

I hate being tired. It’s one of the most annoying things on this side of Heaven. Previously boundless energy screeches to a halt. Free-flowing creative juices grow viscous. Razor sharp wittiness gives way to robotic retort and canned cliche. It’s lame. It’s life…but it’s not living.

And when we’re tired, that’s when we’re vulnerable. We default to destructive habits. We fall prey to entangling temptations. Seeds of doubt germinate in the misty midst of impaired clarity. It’s easy to sail off course and miss the glory all around us.

But rather than fight fatigue, I need to just rest.  I need to sleep in the storm. Because when I awake, a cloudless clarity of renewed perspective will enable me to lift the vertiginous veil and, in awestruck wonder, appreciate the glory of the One who calms every storm…even my self-imposed manic mirages. 

Matthew 11:28-30