Disorder

I've picked up Augustine's Confessions again, and was struck by the following paraphrased quote (from memory): "God is the Author of order, and the affliction of every disorderly soul is its own disorder."

Today is a disorderly day.  Got up too late, scrambled to work half put together, surrounded by mounds of tasks that claw at me, making it hard to sort out which to accomplish first.  My soul fares not much better: bombarded with a confusing chaotic cloud of sorrows and stinging thoughts all mingled together like tangled clothes lines on a blustery day.

But our Abba is a Father who loves us more than we love ourselves, and I submit my disorder to Him, and lean all heaviness upon His shoulder.  He then takes up the burden and creates order and breathes discipline where it is lacking.

And with such wrestlings we carry on through the tempest.

tempest.jpg