When your faith is tired.

Greetings readers.
The Penguins coughed up yet another lead, and I just couldn't bare to watch. I am tired. So tired I don't think I could sleep right now. Sarah went to bed early, but I could not fall in love with the idea of resting my head on a pillow right now. I am in between awake and exhausted, and it's not just a physical thing.
Rob Bell spoke once about each of us having different fuel gages in our lives. There's a gage for being actually physically tired, like when you get home from a retreat tired. There's a gage for emotionally tired, like when your favorite hockey team absolutely refuses to well, play hockey. There's a gage for your faith. There are many many gages, and at the moment, every single one of mine is sitting on empty. 
I spent the day today cranky and irritable. Little things that shouldn't get under my skin did in a big way. I'm glad I had enough in the reserves to not blow up for no reason at all, which typically happens on days like today. Helpless victims are left scratching their head as to what they could have done to warrant such wrath, when the truth is my mind is just lashing out at how things aren't going exactly my way. 
One of the biggest tell-tale signs of an empty tank for me is an incredibly restless spirit. Like I said, I'm so tired right now I can feel the bags under my eyes, but I just couldn't lie down right now. All day I've been switching between activities. I would read a page or two, then put the book down and start writing a talk, then I would go to the worship service for this weekend and hammer out a detail or two before getting sucked into watching the news before picking up a different book and reading one or two pages of that. I sometimes feel like I'm going crazy. 

I've been carrying a prayer journal around with me the last few weeks, and today while I was eating lunch in the food court I wrote down that I wanted to drink God's grace like a cup of coffee. At first, it just seemed like a nice sentence to write down, but it turned into a whole train of thought for me. Coffee is not often a beverage chugged. For me, it's not even a beverage any more that is meant only to wake me up. I have a mug of coffee in my hands at all times during the day.

For a while on Sundays, I would stop at Starbucks before the Bridge. I would typically order either a Venti Peppermint Mocha or a Venti Raspberry White Chocolate Mocha (and yes, I'm aware those are two of the most pansy drinks available). But what shocked my friends was that a Venti coffee could last me from set up to tear down, all in all about 3 hours worth of work. I was traditionally known for sipping the last cold drop from my cup as I was walking back up to my office. Coffee is meant to be enjoyed, savored, slow, flavorful. To just throw back a cup of coffee in a college-worthy chug would miss about 95% of the experience. 

How much different would life be if we could convince ourselves to enjoy God's grace like a decent cup of coffee? Tonight, as I am running on empty in all tanks, I believe I need a different approach. So often I pray as I climb in bed that God would heal me tomorrow, that I would be back to 100%. But maybe grace is meant to be enjoyed slowly, savored, right down to the very last drop (which will ultimately never come, a coffee lover's dream come true). Maybe I should stop treating God like a bank teller, only there to provide me with a good or service. Maybe I should start seeing Him for all He is. Rather than going for the quick fix, maybe it should be more like a pair of friends catching up over coffee.