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Daily Grind

Dear God,

The daily grind has got my Spirit by the neck.

There are too many things to do, and I am exhausted down to My bones.

Even the things I like to do feel like a chore, and in all this ordinary chaos,

There is no room for me to make art.

But I hear you whisper that I was not created in your image

To run errands.

And that a year from now, no one will remember the imperfect nutritional value of tonight’s dinner, but everyone will remember the piece I create.

So, just for today, I will claim some time — ironclad, nonnegotiable, uncompromising, turn-off-the-phone time — to do the work that you designed me to do.

That is my promise to you, so that I might fulfill your promise of me.

Love,

Me