As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.
Psalm 103: 13-14 NIV

The trouble is my days are like my nights. Ideally, my night would start at a nice, solid, concise time. I would fall into bed tired, sleep a full eight hours, and wake up promptly in the morning refreshed and renewed, ready to tackle a new day.

Instead, I stay up a bit too late, pumped up on too much adrenaline and thinking about unfinished projects. I’m not sleepy enough because I slept in a bit too late. So I force myself to bed, sleep for a while, and get up to give my four year old some cough medicine. Then it’s back to sleep. Before long I find myself, half asleep, settling my two year old, who woke up wailing and neither of us know why. (Although if I start wailing soon, I’ll know why.) I manage to sleep through my husband’s alarm, only to have my four year old come in complaining of a wet bed, nightgown and panties. Rather than face the mess and probably disturb the baby, I have her strip and join me in bed. But it’s not long before our two month old wakes up and wants breakfast. I feed her in bed so that I can lay too long, unable to sleep anymore but somehow setting my internal clock to think I spent too much time in bed today to go to sleep early. Well, my six year old is ready for some attention. Come to think of it, so are the other three kids, though I can’t imagine why.

Another day has begun. The trouble is, the days are like my nights. I have always taken so much comfort in Psalm 103:14. God knows how I am made and how much I can handle. He’s definitely not shocked at my lack of accomplishments in life, or my inability to handle things at times. He made me, and He knows that I am nothing bust dust. How much can you expect from dust?

Written by
Melody Anderson